"Beware of men, for they will hand you over to courts and scourge you in their synagogues,
and you will be led before governors and kings for my sake as a witness before them and the pagans.
On the day after Christmas it is probably fair to ask if anyone is in the church. Perhaps everyone has left the building to continue the festivities elsewhere. There remain only the long shadows of winter and the lingering smells of incense to honor the Martyr. But the quiet is appropriate; martyrdom is a lonely business as the body collapses and consciousness retreats to some inner, pain-filled place -- before it too leaves the building.
If Christmas is, as some people say, a pagan feast held over from prehistoric times, the Feast of Stephen is deeply, profoundly Christian. If anyone didn't understand who and what we celebrated on Christmas Day, the Martyr will explain it to us.
We can only imagine the shock of Christians in Jerusalem when they saw and heard of Stephen's death. True, they knew of the Sanhedrin's rough treatment of Peter and John. The leading apostles were arrested, held overnight and whipped with thirty-nine lashes before being released. But they had also seen Peter and John laugh about the experience. They thought it a privilege to suffer as the Lord had suffered.
Stephen's death was more sobering. The murderous resistance to the Lord, which seemed to climax on Good Friday, was not receding before the preaching of the gospel. Despite the healing of many sick people and the ecstatic joy of the newly-baptized, a reaction was gaining strength. Just as slavery survived the American Civil War and still stalks the nation as racism, a deeply entrenched violence would pursue Christianity throughout its history. At times it would appear as persecution from outside; more often it would manifest as betrayal from within.
Rather than ignoring or dismissing that resistance in the hope it might go away, we keep the feast of Stephen. We find a brilliant light shining in a very dark place.
No one would have blamed Stephen had he been more politic. He might have recognized the opposition and realized his persuasive arguing was for naught. They had ears but they would not hear. He might have let his friends haul him away, rushing him off the scene as the first stones were thrown. He might have retreated to return another day. But, as Saint Luke tells us, he was "filled with grace and power" and he would not stifle the Spirit.
States usually represent the citizenry when they execute a human being, stoning is a popular act before the state intervenes. But it often has the state's tacit approval. Rather than discrete, impersonal methods as used by some American states, stoning is public theater. Everyone is invited; if you have never killed anyone, here is your opportunity. The distinction between killers and bystanders is erased in the mob action; everyone has blood on their hands.
Capital punishment is a ritual, cathartic way to vicariously rid the world of perceived evils. It is a form of human sacrifice to a vengeful god, punishing both the wicked and the undesirable. Stoning allows personal enemies, acquaintances and passers-by with no particular grievance, to express themselves with savage violence. In the United States lynching has served the same purpose.
Later the mob will have to deal with the aftertaste, the spiritual hangover. Some will still insist, "He asked for it!" Others will prefer not to think or speak of it. In later years their descendants will piously declare they had no part of it, as Jesus said,
‘Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you build the tombs of the prophets and decorate the graves of the righteous, and you say, “If we had lived in the days of our ancestors, we would not have taken part with them in shedding the blood of the prophets.” Thus you testify against yourselves that you are descendants of those who murdered the prophets.
Not many will seek atonement through penance, prayer and fasting. Reparation is out of the question.
The Feast of Saint Stephen invites us to ponder the deep roots of Original Sin. Whether we're pondering racism, misogyny, clerical sexual abuse, abortion, addictions, the military-industrial complex, the widening gap between rich and poor, or the poisoning of our planet, we realize this Evil will not dissipate with the ritual ceremonies of Christmas.
Stephen invites us to speak out, risk hostility, and see what no else sees, the heavens opened and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God.
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I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.
Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.
I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.
You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.