Yesterday the Church sang of angels, shepherds, light, and joy. Quite jarringly, today we are shown stones, hatred, and death. On the very day after Christmas, the Church places before us St. Stephen, the first martyr. This is not accidental. It is profoundly intentional. Because Christmas is not only about a child in a manger; it is about a life that will be given, and about what happens when that life truly takes root in human hearts.

In the first reading from the Acts of the Apostles, Stephen stands before the Sanhedrin, accused, threatened, misunderstood. Yet we are told: “Stephen, filled with the Holy Spirit, looked up intently to heaven and saw the glory of God and Jesus standing at the right hand of God” (Acts 7:55).

Stephen does not defend himself. He does not bargain. He does not save his life by silence. Instead, he remains faithful to what God has revealed, even when that fidelity leads directly to his death. This is obedience of faith in its most costly form: trusting God not only when obedience brings blessing, but when it brings suffering.

The story of Stephen’s martyrdom is a lesson in seeing what others cannot see. While his accusers see a blasphemer, Stephen sees heaven opened. While stones are raised against him, Stephen entrusts his spirit to Christ: “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.” (Acts 7:59) And like his Master, he prays: “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.” (Acts 7:60)

Stephen’s death mirrors Christ’s death, because the obedience of faith always conforms us to Jesus.

But why the day after Christmas? I think the Church places the Feast of St. Stephen immediately after Christmas teaches us a hard but necessary truth: if Christmas is real, it will change how we live and it may cost us something. Christmas proclaims that God has entered the world. St. Stephen shows us what happens when that truth is lived without compromise:

Love becomes dangerous.
Truth becomes costly.
Faith becomes visible.

The Gospel becomes a warning as Jesus tells His disciples: “You will be hated by all because of my name, but whoever endures to the end will be saved.” (Mt 10:22) Stephen is the first to prove that these words are not symbolic. The obedience of faith does not promise safety. It promises Christ’s presence.

I suspect most of us are challenged by Stephen’s obedience of faith and our own. Most of us will not face stones or martyrdom. But this feast day celebration invites us to examine the quieter ways we resist obedience to the faith:

When faith costs social approval
When truth creates tension
When forgiveness feels unjust
When fidelity requires sacrifice

Stephen teaches us that obedience of faith is not about heroic gestures but rather it is about faithfulness to Christ, even when the outcome is uncertain or painful.

The world sees Stephen’s death as a failure. The Church sees it as a birth. Stephen dies while heaven stands open. The child born yesterday is already reigning. And one of those who watches Stephen die will one day become St. Paul, apostle to the nations. The obedience of faith may look like loss in the moment, but God never wastes it.

On this day after Christmas, the Church reminds us that the manger leads to the cross. The cross leads to glory. And no matter the cost, obedience of faith leads to life.

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Image credit: The Stoning of Stephen | Rembrandt, 1625 | Musée des Beaux-Arts de Lyon | PD-US