Sunday Prayers
for the Feast of St. Stephen (August 2, 2020)
On this Feast of St. Stephen, we invite you to set aside some time tonight at 5 pm to pray and worship at home.
Rooted in simplicity and practiced in community,
even if separated by space and circumstance,
we celebrate Christ’s gentle and loving rule.
The readings for today are:
- Jeremiah 26:1-9, 12-15
- Psalm 31:1-7, 16
- Acts 6:8-7:2, 51c-60
- Matthew 23:34-39
Transcript
The feast of St. Stephen, which we celebrate today, is a bit challenging. As far as feasts go, it’s a bit depressing – because St. Stephen is admired and celebrated as the very first Christian martyr. The book of Acts tells the story of his powerful and unrelenting preaching, which leads to him being hauled before the religious authorities and stoned to death.
The feast of St. Stephen, which we celebrate today, is a bit challenging. As far as feasts go, it’s a bit depressing – because St. Stephen is admired and celebrated as the very first Christian martyr. The book of Acts tells the story of his powerful and unrelenting preaching, which leads to him being hauled before the religious authorities and stoned to death.
There is much to admire in St. Stephen. His conviction. His passion. His astonishing faith, for which he gives up his life. His compassion, as he prays for his attackers even as he is stoned to death. His keen awareness of the presence of God even in times of trouble, as he has a vision of Jesus even as he is being persecuted.
One of the things that strikes me most about St. Stephen is his ability to be present to the moment he has been given, and to model integrity even in circumstances that might seem hopeless.
Sometimes we might imagine that health or stability are rewards for a godly life. Or that if we just pray enough or are pious enough, God might intervene to remedy our crises. Heal the illness. Provide a new job. Mend broken relationships.
But it just doesn’t work that way. People who do everything right still have things fall apart. Disaster strikes. Frail bodies fail. Relationships flounder. Businesses close. And when we reach the end of the road of conventional wisdom, we meet the limitations of our own understanding. We discover mystery. And, I believe, we discover God.
In Hebrew tradition, there has always been room for conventional wisdom – we find this in places like Proverbs – that helps us to navigate the known world in predictable ways. This is good, but it only takes us so far. Because sometimes everything falls apart, and there’s no apparent rhyme or reason. And so, alongside this conventional wisdom, there has always been an alternative stream of wisdom found in texts like Ecclesiastes. And it’s also all through the teachings of Jesus.
This alternative wisdom points to the existing structures, and says that it’s all temporary. Empty. Transitory at best. That when it really comes down to it, all we’re given is this moment and the insistence that God is with us in it.
This alternative wisdom asks us to be willing to give ourselves over to the moment, to be really and truly present to God and to those around us, because there we find life that survives even death. We find that God can fill even the emptiness, and help us to find meaning in things that are painful and wrong. Not because God has willed these things to happen, but because we come to discover that we haven’t been abandoned, and that God continues to desire good for us.
And so Stephen speaks truth even when it costs him his life. He doesn’t try to hide, or change the circumstances. Aware of God’s presence with him, he sees Jesus in a grand vision and also in the very faces of his accusers and attackers. He manages to take a story that is essentially about senseless violence, and show us something about goodness and love and forgiveness. And the assurance of God’s abiding presence through it all.
In a great many ways, I hope we’re nothing like St. Stephen. I hope we’re not ever put in circumstances where we have to show his courage or faith or passion. I hope we are given kinder, simpler days. But, in other ways, I believe that we are on our way to finding ways to live a little bit like him. To be a community that is willing to give ourselves away.
May we know the value and depth of every moment, no matter the challenges it brings. May we speak the truth we’ve been given, in a way that shows love and compassion for those around us. May we so love God that we hold fast to our faith, even in times when that faith is inconvenient or unpopular.
And when we come to the end of conventional wisdom, when we’re at the end of our rope and it all falls apart, may we know the love and peace of God which pass all understanding.