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Christmas Saints
H O M I L Y G R I T S
The Christmas Saints: Stephen, John, the Innocents
St Stephen - December 26
Jeremiah 26:1-9, 12-15 Changing God's mind
Psalm 31 In te, Domine, speravi
Acts 6:8-7:2a,51c-60 Stephen saw Jesus at God's right hand
Matthew 23:34-39 I send prophets, sages, scribes
St. John - December 27
Exodus 33:18-23 You shall see my back, but not my face
Psalm 92 Bonum est confieteri
I John 1:1-9 What we have heard and seen
John 21:19b-24 The rumor spread in the community
Holy Innocents - December 28
Jeremiah 31:15-17 Rachel weeping for her children
Psalm 124 Nisi quia Dominus
Revelation 21:1-7 Look! I'm making everything new!
Matthew 2: 13-18 Herod killed all the children
The second, third, and fourth days of Christmas are devoted to the
Christmas saints, who crowd themselves about the crib in this
mini-season, called Witness days from earliest times, like kids
around the Tree. For the Prayer Book does not place them with the
lections for other worthies in the Sanctorale at the end, but stuffs
them into our Christmas pudding right after the 25th, in the
Temporale. Thus they are part of the Christmas season which lasts for
Twelve Days, for in honoring angel-face Stephen's crown, Saint John's
wizened old life, and the sinless slaughtered babes, we do honor to
the Christmas faith of millions who have come through the struggle
for innocence and justice, and bring the gift of their martyrdom to
the Martyr Jesus. La Lucha que continua. The struggle that goes on.
Stephen's name is given in the Acts of the Apostles as the first of
those young people appointed to be deacons, whose ministry is
described as one of waiting tables. He was the first to be called
to be a *marturion*, a witness in word and deed, or in life and
death; as faithful old John stands for all those called to witness in
life, but not in death, in word and witness, but not in the bloody
baptism of martyrdom; and the Bethlehem infants symbolize, as the
most precious ornaments of the gospel, the millions of children in
the horrid holocausts of human history, martyrs in deed, but with
their will stolen from them and their lives dashed with our hopes for
them. The slaughter of Innocents goes on now in Iraq, the West
Bank, Gaza, the racist murder of millions in African cribs and
cradles every day.
In Nicaragua, their day is the equivalent of our April Fools'
Day--and an Innocente is one who is easily tricked or hood-winked.
We celebrate the Innocents by a feast of acting the fool and being
innocentes. In the days of the Sandinista government, it always made
fun of itself on this feast, with a great issue of the Barricada, its
party newspaper, devoted to
poking fun. What capitalist government can make fun of itself? What
Republican could be an Innocente? As Oscar Wilde said of the
serious, they have become all nose and all forehead. And so they
take an elephant for their icon!
St Stephen's courageous preaching before the Sanhedrin is described
in Acts, and his death told as a mirror image of Jesus' own
offering, praying "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit" and "lay not this
sin to their charge." The impossible Jesus lesson, to pray for our
enemies, is laid to our charge instead--and Stephen inaugurates a
whole calendar of saints: As Abel was the first martyr to the faith
of the Old Pacto with God, and Zacharias the last, so now Stephen is
remembered as the first martyr (after Jesus) of the New Alianza: a
witness in word and deed, a "crown", as his Greek name tells us, of
the gospel itself.
These three sorts of saints have been called the "Companions of
Christ" and "Christ's nobility". John, especially, has been linked
immediately to the Jesus of history: once called Boanerges, a Mother
Thunder's son, for his teenage enthusiasm, he wanted to firebomb
Jesus' critics: the way I feel about the IDF (the Israeli Destruction
Force) and the puppet armies of Bush, Blair, and Allawi in Iraq.
John was when young one of the most "confrontational" of Jesus'
students, he ended up ironically dying of old age and full of grace.
He acquired other names in all those years--Apostle, Evangelist,
Divine (i.e., theologian), Seer, Apocalyptic prophet, Virgin, and not
least, "the disciple whom Jesus loved." There is a particularity here
which disconcerts when we first think of it, for didn't Jesus love
ALL his alumnos? It was what they called (and discouraged) in
seminary, "a special friendship"--John was special to Jesus. Very
tricky task today in a Roman Catholic seminary! One of the Lutheran
commentators wrote: "He must have been an amiable, lovable young man
when he first followed the Master. . . but any particular softness
was not essential for Jesus to admire this Apostle especially. It
would not be surprising if at the mention of St. John we immediately
visualized him as a rather effeminate man, soft and more or less
spiritless. Perhaps Leonado da Vinci is partly to blame for this
misreading of the Apostle's character. . . in his painting of he last
supper we see John with eyes downcast in feminine timidity,
beardless, his hair parted in the middle and falling on either side
in wavy ringlets. . . no rugged firmness. It is a Roman Catholic
picture," the excited Lutheran commentator goes on, "executed by a
Romanist for the Roman Church." So wrote Fred H. Lindemann in his
commentary "Christ chose strong men to be his disciples." Yeah, and
bid them rest in his bosom, these kissy sons of thunder. Now the
makers of a new literary form, the DaVinci Code, a detective novel
presented as serious church history, have shown us that John was
really Mary Magdalene masquerading as one of the Twelve, and she had
been married to Jesus somewhere out of the picture.
A drag show today is probably appropriate, for in the eleventh
century this little season of Christmas saints became the Festum
Fatuorum, the Feast of Fools. Great merrymaking and drinking and
wearing drag, and all that. On the Feast of Stephen, in honor of
their fellow deacon, all the deacons had their party, and like their
antecedent, were anxious to get stoned. On Holy Innocents, the choir
boys and acolytes had their party, in all innocence. And on St.
John's day, the presbyters had their fling, and there grew up in
places the custom of blessing "St John's wine" from the tradition
that John had been given a cup of poisoned wine that did him no harm,
and Jesus had promised him he would tarry till he came again. But
failed to leave us the variety and vintage of the vino.
Christians toasted each other "Drink one for the love of St.
John"--and so the custom of one more for the road had its origin, for
St. John's wine was drunk before a long journey, as insurance for a
safe trip. Nowadays we are advised that one of the drinkers abstain,
to drive us all home. St John's wine was also used as the last drink
of the dying, after Viaticum. Some was taken from mass and a bit
poured as a fermentum into every vat in the wine cellar, to hallow it
all. Any child with the name of John or Joan, Jean or Jeanne, or
their variants, was privileged to light the candles on the Christmas
wreath or tree. Drink the love of John at your wassail this year.
Abstainers can have a sip of sparkling cider and call it champagne,
and to them will be given the keys to the vehicles for the ride home
over the river and through the woods.
The presence of Saint John's day here in Christmastide is especially
significant because of his special place as the youthful disciple,
still in his teens when he went to follow the Galilean rabbi. The
Lord gave him a special place in his own life, sharing with his
brother James and with Peter the special inner circle of disciples,
sharing with them the special metamorphosis of his glory on the
mount, commending his own mother to John's special care at the place
of execution. So John is special in many ways--the morass of
historical analysis of the Johannine literature is not our concern
here now--who actually wrote chapter seven of the gospel and who
actually wrote chapter twenty-one, or is the same person the author
of the gospel and was the author of the first epistle? Or is this
the same John who wrote the Apocalypse. Or was this the same John
who was bishop of Ephesus and died in the year 100? What about
Prester John and all the other legends? Our concern is to hear
John's special message for us: a message that is the message of
every Christmastide. First of all it is a message of Life and
Light. John's gospel begins with the prologue, "In the beginning was
the Word. . ." and goes on to regale us with Life, Light Power,
Grace, Truth, Glory, Fullness. It is the primary Christian
preaching, and if only one mass is celebrated on Christmas day, it
is the first chapter of John's gospel which is read, not Luke's story
about the manger, not Matthew's about the magi, but John's, a hymn to
the eternal
Logos, the Utterance of God who becomes flesh and bone and lives
among us.
The Christmas gospel is not a lovely old story, "a cleverly devised
fable," like Clement Clark Moore's "A Visit from St. Nicholas." All
of that Santa Claus hoopla is a lot of fun, and good, clean fun.
Christians should be glad that all the world's myths have come to
roost in the stable, and have a share in the angel's song. The more
the merrier. I don't look upon Saint Nicholas as a forbidden alien
god at all, but as one of the magi whose reindeer got him to us a
little late. The "little drummer boy" is another one -- his
moronic song I detest but I hear it for days in Managua on the radios
of neighbors, who like it -- Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer is
another-- come to join the ox and ass, and the partridge in the pear
tree. These fables are mostly only window dressing, for Christmas
sales. We need to remember that Jesus was born outside the
capitalist system on the edge of empire. But the Christmas gospel is
not even a commemoration of his birth in poverty. It is not, as
Thomas Merton wrote, "an old thing which happened long ago but a new
thing which happens tonight." More than all the other writers, John
was closest to our Jesus and had more time than any to ponder--not
the events of that life, but its meaning. In John's gospel, the
Christmas liturgy becomes an Easter liturgy, as do all liturgies.
Death is conquered by this Birth. The tomb of humankind has been
opened by the cry of this newborn. It is John who sees that Christ
must be born in our hearts, for "to as many as received him he gave
power to become children of God." The collect for today prays that
the Church will be illumined by the brightness of this Christmas
light. It is not private prayer, but liturgical prayer, common
prayer, and so for all Christian people to receive the
illumination. John sees the connection so clearly, for "If we say
we have koinonia with him, while we walk in darkness, we lie and do
not live according to the truth, but if we walk in the light, as he
is
in the light, we have koinonia--mutual share-holding--common
responsibilities, common concerns--with one another and with Him." We
are thrust by Love into commune-ism.
Orthodoxy (right teaching, but at root right worship) is not enough.
John would have us do Orthopraxy--justice work, doing it right. As
Jesus put Peter in charge of the Church's business, so he put John in
charge of the Church's purpose: LOVE. The theory and practice of
Love. St. Augustine saw in Peter a symbol of the earthly church,
and in John a symbol of the heavenly one.
"The Church is familiar with two types of life," he wrote. "Both
having been revealed and commended to her by God. The one exists
through faith, the other through vision: the one implies a time of
pilgrimage, the other provides an eternal home. The one means labor,
the other brings rest, the one is an exile, the other a homeland; the
one calls for acts of virtue, the other gives the reward of
beatitude. The one turns away from evil and does good, the other has
no evil to turn away from because it knows and enjoys only the good.
The one struggles with the enemy, the other reigns with no foe
about. The one helps the needy, where the other is, there are no
needy. The one forgives insults that its own may be forgiven, the
other suffers nothing that need be forgiven and does nothing that
calls for forgiveness. The one is encouraged by visitations that
good fortune may not occasion pride, the other possesses the fullness
of grace, is devoid of all evil and clings to the highest good
without the least leaning to self-exaltation. The one life is good,
yet full of misery; the other is better, replete with happiness.
The former is typified by the apostle Peter, the latter by John. The
former will continue to the end of the world and then ceases, but the
latter's fulfillment is postponed to the end of time and in the
future world will know no end. Therefore to Peter it was said,
'Follow me', but of John: If I should will that he remain thus till
I come, what is it to you?' Now what do these words mean? As far as
I can see and understand (says St. Augustine) they mean: 'Peter, you
follow me, imitating me and enduring transitory sufferings, while
you, John, remain until I make my everlasting appearance, bestowing
rewards."
So as John's gospel itself has it, without naming himself:
"The other disciple did outrun Peter." John is the long distance
runner, and remembers that he outran the first pope. As Love still
outruns the hierarchy, and the patriarchal dominance of the church.
The "other disciple" may be John, or may be Mary Magdalene!
And it is still the special love of John that outruns the huffing and
puffing of Peter's church, built twixt a Rock and a hard place. The
epistle, from John's first letter, written to combat the Docetist
heresy which denied Christ's full humanity, his complete human
nature, which declared Jesus a phantom, a flesh-less spirit, who
could be seanced up by
Mother Eddy in a Boston parlor. John knew better, and had lain upon
his breast. He knew Jesus' habits, his likes and dislikes, his taste
for broiled fish and honeycomb for breakfast on the beach. Lox and
bagels with cream cheese are on the menu, too. John sat next to his
Teacher at meals and must have heard him burp after the garlicky leg
of lamb at Passover. He stood at the Cross and saw him bleed to
death. The Docetist heresy flapped that moral endeavor on the part
of believers was unnecessary because they were already "saved."
John knew it was a continuing struggle.
"If spirituality is something separate from physicality, then the
truth may be something believed but not practiced." But John knew
Jesus, and knew him to be "together" -- a person whose physicality
and spirituality were composed and resolved. There's no "spiritual
resurrection" in John's gospel, nor in the epistles: "Put your hand
in my wounds. Touch my side." "That which we have looked upon and
felt with our hands. . . and the life was made manifest, and we saw
it. . . this is what we proclaim to you."
Hippolytus wrote, "We know that by taking a body from the Virgin he
refashioned our fallen nature. We know that the humanity was of the
same clay as our own; if this were not so, he would hardly have been
a teacher who could expect to be imitated. . . . The saying 'Know
yourself' means therefore that we should recognize and acknowledge in
ourselves that God who made us in his own image, for if we do this,
we in turn will be recognized and acknowledged by our Maker. So let
us not be at enmity with ourselves, but change our way of life
without delay."
Moses said to God, "I pray thee show me thy glory" and God said, "I
will make my goodness pass before you. . . but you cannot see my face
and live. So God hid Moses in a cleft of the rock, and hid him
> from his face." But John tells us now that we can indeed see the face
of God and live. . . and shows us his face in Jesus, and behold we
live. That life is ours, not to be hidden in a pigeon hole as Moses
hid in, to avoid the Vision. But God is Light and in God is no
darkness at all, and John tells us that if we walk in the light, as
Jesus is in the light, we have Koinonia with each other and the blood
of Jesus cleanses us from all sin. Sin has no place in the church,
John tells us, not because its members have not sinned or cannot sin,
but because all have been forgiven. You wouldn't know it from the
Billy Sunday style of preaching hell and damnation to the "unsaved"
world off the fundamentalist's map.
Christmas is always gay, angelic, boyish and girlish, with old
repentant Scrooges and darling Tiny Tims, and will always include the
Beloved Disciple and his clear and plain preaching, for his intimacy
with Jesus made his preaching plain. Tradition has it that in his
old age as Bishop of Ephesus, nearly a hundred years old, he wrote no
more sermons but simply said over and over, "Children, love one
another." His disciples were irked and wanted homilies at least as
long as this one, and they asked him, "Why always the same thing?"
and he replied, "Because it is the Lord's command, and if you did
nothing more, it would suffice." Little children, have koinonia,
have communism, have fellowship amongst yourselves. Because it is
the Lord's command. It will suffice. The debacles of Stalinist
communism, and the horror of Bush-Blair capitalism rampant, have
begun to make more obvious the clear demands of the gospel of Love.
Christians of the middle ages piously believed that the Holy
Innocents were those of whom St. John was speaking in the Apocalypse
as the hundred and forty four thousand who sang "as it were a new
song" before the throne of Christ: a song which no one could learn;
these were they who would follow the Lamb whithersoever he goes,
being firstfruits from among humankind. The Holy Innocents are
witnesses to the sacredness of all human life, and stand for all the
innocent martyrs for human liberty and human rights inside and
outside the marked boundaries of the church's faith and hope. It is
a human symphony, and the voice of many waters, and of a great
thunder, and of harpers harping with their harps, and singing a new
song, and bidding us to follow the spotless Lamb who is himself the
martyred Infant of Judea.
Blessed be God in all the angels, and in all the saints.
GRANT M. GALLUP
CASA AVE MARIA
MANAGUA, NICARAGUA C.A.
<gallup@tmx.com.ni>
(c)Copyright 2000 Grant M. Gallup