Heaven Opened: St. Stephen and the Meaning of Christmas

Merry Christmas, brothers and sisters!

I love Christmas so much. The carols and hymns, our beautiful greenery and decorations, the lights, and everyone seems a bit more kind. And I say Merry Christmas because this is still Christmas. The church doesn't rush through feasts. Christmas isn't just yesterday; it's today and tomorrow and for twelve days. We're in the midst of celebrating that God became flesh, that the Word dwelt among us.

But Christmastide is a bit…werid. Here we are, the day after we gathered around the manger in Bethlehem, wearing red. The day after we sang about the newborn king, we remember a man being stoned to death in the streets of Jerusalem.

This seems really odd, doesn't it? To follow the joy of our newborn king with violence, birth with death, peace with persecution. But the church knew exactly what it was doing when it placed St. Stephen here, right next to Christmas Day.

Look at what Stephen saw. In Acts, we read that "filled with the Holy Spirit, he gazed into heaven and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God." Yesterday, Jesus was a baby in Mary's arms. Today, Stephen sees him standing at God's right hand. This word choice matters here. In the ancient world, you sat when you ruled, when you were established in power. You were enthroned. But Jesus stands. He stands to receive his first martyr, to welcome home the first person to die for his name.

Christmas and Stephen's Day belong together because they tell us the same truth from different angles: the incarnation changes everything. God didn't become human to stay safe in Bethlehem. He came to open heaven. He came to make a way through death to life. And St. Stephen, as the Protomartyr, the first martyr of the Church, was to enter heaven thist way.

St. Matthew's Gospel reminds us: "They will hand you over to councils and flog you...Brother will betray brother to death, and a father his child." This isn't theoretical. This is Stephen's story. This is the story of countless Christians martyrs and confessors throughout history. This is, perhaps, our story too - maybe not with stones, but with the smaller violences of mockery, exclusion, the cost of following Jesus when it's inconvenient.

But here's what strikes me most about Stephen: he stayed focused. He kept his eyes on Jesus. And in his dying moments, he prayed, "Lord, do not hold this sin against them." He is a true Christian, a true little Christ as he mirrors Christs own words from the cross. The first martyr dies like his master died.

That's why the Church puts Stephen next to Christmas. Yesterday we saw the fulfillment of centuries of God’s promise. Today we remember that sometimes we don't see how God is keeping them. Sometimes the answer to our prayers doesn’t look like an answer. And sometimes following Jesus costs us everything.

But Stephen saw. In his final moments, heaven opened and he saw the truth: that same baby we see lying in the manger is the King of Glory. Our Prince of Peace is also the victor over death. And nothing, not threats, not stones, not even death, can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.

So like I said, merry Christmas. Because Christmas means that God is with us, even in the hard places. Christmas means heaven is open. Christmas means the cost of following Jesus is real, but so is the resurrection. Christmas means we can face whatever comes with our eyes fixed on Jesus, knowing that what looks like defeat is actually counted a victory with God, what looks like death is actually life.

Stephen's last words were "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." This is what comes to mind every time our teens come together to pray compline or we pray it before bed at home when we say "Into your hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit." Whether we die as martyrs or in our beds at a nice old age, we die saying the same thing Stephen said. We die entrusting ourselves to the same baby Jesus we welcomed yesterday when he humbly entered the world in a stable, who Stephen saw standing at God's right hand.

The incarnation changes everything. God became human like us so we can see God. And Stephen saw him. And so can we.

Amen.