On the Feast of Stephen

“When they heard this, they were furious and gnashed their teeth at him. But Stephen, full of the Holy Spirit, looked up to heaven and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God. "Look," he said, "I see heaven open and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God." At this they covered their ears and, yelling at the top of their voices, they all rushed at him, dragged him out of the city and began to stone him. Meanwhile, the witnesses laid their clothes at the feet of a young man named Saul. While they were stoning him, Stephen prayed, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." Then he fell on his knees and cried out, "Lord, do not hold this sin against them." When he had said this, he fell asleep.” Acts of the Apostles 7:54-60


Stephen was a deacon in the early Church, called to aid the apostles when the rapid growth of the Church had made necessary additional administrators. St. Stephen was, unfortunately for him, the first martyr of many for the Church.

It seems a bit unusual that today of all days, the day after one of the most joyous of the year, we choose to remember and feast St. Stephen, someone who was murdered for the church. It would seem to fit better after Easter where it would serve as a nice parallel to the crucifixion, with the caveat that though we experience eternal life through Christ, he alone can conquer death. Instead we celebrate today; the day after a birth, mere moments after reflecting on the awe of a new birth and the joy of a Messiah come, a martyr who killed brutally.

This jerks us back to reality. This move in the calendar forces us back into the hardship of life after allowing us a day to celebrate. Though Christ has come, he has not come to cure all of our ills. His call to service is one fraught with risk. What this baby asks of us is not always going to be easy, and in fact it will rarely be so. We will be called to give up our jackets to those who have none, to welcome back those who have wronged us, to love the unlovable, heal the sick, sacrifice ourselves for others. Through Stephen, we must be reminded of the sacrifices Jesus made for us and recognize that, for most of us, we will have far less asked of us, and should offer our sacrifices joyfully.

And everyone, those called to make sacrifices both large and small should remember to do so as Stephen did, with their eyes and hearts turned to God and full of forgiveness.

"Bidden or Unbidden, God is Present" or "A Christian Defense of a Secular Christmas"

This winter, people across the country will gather together, exchange gifts, eat dinner with their families, and celebrate Christmas.

For a distressingly large portion of the population, this celebration will include no trip to any church, no reading of Luke, and no acknowledgment of the spiritual reason behind this holiday so near and dear to so many. They won’t hear a choir sing “Once in Royal David’s City” by candlelight. They won’t take communion with their family. They won’t have the good fortune of hearing a compelling message of peace on earth and the story of the birth of one who came to reconcile us to God.

It would seem that their Christmas would lack any presence of the Divine.

But bidden or unbidden, God is present.

There are those who say Happy Holidays to us, rather than Merry Christmas. Those who get a bit too into decorating the house with lights, or perhaps over-doing it with presents. Maybe they worry too much about having a massive spread on the table and are stressed about the looming credit card bills. They may seem to focus solely on the material aspects of this holiday.

But bidden or unbidden, God is present.


There has for several years, at least according to our friends at Fox News, a so-called “War on Christmas” has allegedly been raging. Legions of secularists have supposedly been shunning all spiritual associations of the holiday and have been returning to some form of modern Saturnalia. I haven’t noticed anything of the sort, but I’ll accept for arguments sake that they’re out there. These people who are “secularizing” Christmas are out shopping for presents and food to spend a special time with their families. While it may be true they do not intend to go to church or celebrate along side us as we welcome Jesus, are they not gathering in their own way with love in their midst?

And bidden or unbidden, God is present.


Around this time of year, it is not just devout Christians who increase their charitable donations. Many will give to Toys for Tots. The Salvation Army collects millions of dollars through their bell-ringers. People will gather with those they see only once a year and break bread together as a family. Good Cheer and generosity are commonplace. Tens of millions will give presents, living for the look of joy on the recipients face when just the right gift is given. People will gather together in an atmosphere of palpable love, a once a year ritual that offers comfort and joy.

And bidden or unbidden, God is present.


There are times of the church year that, while conducive to introspection and deep theological thought, can cause us to get caught up in the significance of worship and ritual and cause us to forget the importance of the presence of God in simple and everyday interactions. When a family gathers together and share their stories of the past year over dinner, laughing and loving, remembering those ties that bind them together, God, who is but love, is there. When a single mother who works two jobs plows through another 16 hour day to give her child the present he so desperately wants, God is there. When someone volunteers to distribute meals at the soup kitchen on Christmas Eve, God is there. When the troops in WWI stopped shooting at each other long enough to play a Christmas Eve soccer game, God was there.

It is easy to declare that the reason for the season is to have rears in the pews for an hour on Christmas Eve to sing carols and nod off through a sermon. It’s easy to demand that everyone say “Merry Christmas” rather than “Happy Holidays.” What is perhaps more difficult is to recognize the presence of God in these seemingly secular situations.

It is impossible to deny that at this time of year, people are more generous, more hopeful, more loving. Maybe it’s the scent of evergreen in houses, the presents people receive or the smiles that abound, but for a month people are happier. They more often think of others, serve more, and love more and for this I am especially grateful. Though this isn’t bumping up church attendance, it is showing people God's love, whether they know it or not. While many would condemn these rather secular celebrations as missing the point of the holiday, I am wonderfully happy that for a little while, people put the better angels of their nature on display, and can experience the presence and love of God, bidden or unbidden.

Second week of Advent

Advent is commonly known as the season for waiting. We commemorate the waiting of the Hebrews for their Messiah. We acknowledge our waiting for the second coming. We revel in the waiting for Christmas, and the joy and excitement that it brings.

Waiting, however, is generally no fun.

Waiting conjures images of one standing in line with a letter to be mailed at the post office, a deposit to be made at the bank, or God forbid, the interminable line to get your drivers license renewed. Waiting emphasizes our inability to do anything as we sit at the mercy of the worker or teller or clerk. In that aspect, waiting can offer us something. It does remind us that we do not have absolute control over what will come. Though it is good from time to time to be reminded of our powerlessness, waiting is too passive a term for this season.

When we welcome company into our home, we do not simply wait, we prepare. There are dishes to be washed, carpets to be vacuumed, pillows to be set out and food to be cooked. It is an active time, especially when the guest is an honored one. Though advent is often said to be a time to slow down, I think it would perhaps be better not to slow down, but rather to change our focus. As the world around us turns to more goods, more services, more consumption, we should be just as active, with our efforts towards bringing the Kingdom to earth. We are called to be even quicker to love, and to make even more haste to be kind. We should take more time to appreciate our family and friends, and to give thanks for all the blessings we have received. The way we best prepare for the Kingdom is to work to bring it about here on earth. And if we are truly praying for “Thy will to be done on earth as it is in heaven,” then we should be focusing our salvation in this life, rather than just using salvation as the carrot to the stick of eternal damnation

Unlike many denominations, we in the Episcopal Church seem to talk very little about “Salvation.” It seems a very icky and overly evangelical term to many of us, especially those who grew up in the South being asked about “their personal Lord and Savior” often enough to make even the Archbishop of Canterbury question whether there was a just and loving God. The connotations that come with that word are often uncomfortable enough to keep us from openly addressing it as an issue. This is something that needs to be addressed and the Advent season is the perfect time to do so. While we are spending our time preparing (not waiting!) we should be working towards making ourselves whole, and living more fully into the Great Commandment.

Loving our neighbors, and serving those less than us bring us closer to God, and thus closer to salvation, to wholeness of soul. Our goal needs to be to try our best to get it right today, here, now. It is a choice we have to make, to live into that relationship. We can’t just wait until we croak and then let God do all the work. We need to be doing our best to live and grow in that relationship here and now, today, not tomorrow or next week or next month. By working on the fullness of our relationship with God, and our relationships with each other, we do real work towards our wholeness and therefore our salvation. More importantly, it gives us a chance to prepare ourselves for the Kingdom, both in this life and the next. And that is what advent should be all about.

First Week of Advent

This years Advent could not have come at a better time for me. With the hectic holiday season, my regular vagabond status, and an exceptionally busy schedule of late, it has been easy to get caught up in the day to day minutia of life. Fortunately, this season calls us to quiet, introspection and waiting. For me personally, with one more campaign season right around the corner, which will in all likelihood be my last as a professional, it gives me a chance to center myself and remind me why I do what I do. It also is a reminder to me that the pitched political battles that we engage in trying to push our agenda require constant examination to make sure we are, as President Lincoln put it, on God’s side.

One of the readings for the third of December is from Matthew, and it consists of Jesus foretelling our attempts to enter the kingdom of heaven. He says,

“On that day many will say to me, “Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many deeds of power in your name?” Then I will declare to them, “I never knew you; go away from me, you evildoers.” Matthew 7:21-27

We all (hopefully) try to be moral people, but particularly at this time as we reflect on the coming celebration of the birth of Christ who was perfect, we must remember that we are all fallen. We are imperfect, and despite our best efforts we frequently find ourselves in rebellion from God’s will. We must be wary of proclaiming absolutes, else we find ourselves proclaiming our own wishes as divine wisdom. Today’s reading warns us that speaking in “Jesus’ name,” working in “Jesus’ name,” and issuing “litmus tests” as to who is Christian or has God on their side comes with a rather significant risk. We must keep in mind that as sure as we may be of what we may wish, we must always be open to the possibility that we may not be right, and our certainty in ruling the lives of others might, in the end, weigh heavy on us.