First [Acts 6 & 7 - St. Stephen's Day]

 The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson

Acts 6 & 7

First

 

Once upon a time, in the early days of social media, there developed a most peculiar practice.  This practice was quite common back when MySpace ruled the web and facebook was just beginning to venture beyond the boundaries of college campuses.  Now, in these later days of social media, the peculiar practice seems to have all but faded from existence, but for a time it was all the rage.

 

Perhaps you remember that long ago, in the days before dial-up, a common person would have very little, if any, direct contact with a celebrity, excepting of course the chance encounter at a Hollywood diner or perhaps a signed response to an earnest fan letter.  Anything beyond that though came through traditional media – television, magazines, the radio, town crier.  But social media changed that; celebrities could now share messages directly with their fans and fans could respond immediately to those messages.  And in that new world, in those early days of social media, what the fans would say in response, if they were lucky and exceedingly quick, was nothing more than a single monosyllabic word: “first.”  To the victor go the spoils.

 

I’m not sure why, but for a time, the citizens of this world were absolutely driven by the intense desire to let the likes of Brittany Spears, Oprah, and the coolest, most underground Emo band know that no one was quicker to read and respond.  No one.  Only one person could be first, and if that person was you, there was, apparently, no better way to let the world know than to type that word of preeminence into the comment box: first. 

 

You see, the thing about being first, why it is such a big deal, is that no one, except maybe the NCAA, can ever take it away.  Neil Armstrong, George Washington, Jackie Robinson: they will always be remembered because they were first.  Someone can make more money than the richest person.  Someone can gain more weight than the heaviest.  People break world records; conquer kingdoms; put even the most successful companies out of business.  But a first is always first.  And while dreamy boy-band NSync’s MySpace page will one day, yes, one day, fade into the digital abyss, that time you were the first to respond to Justin Timberlake’s plea to remember where you came from? No one can ever take that away.

 

Today we remember a first that is near and dear to us: St. Stephen, our patron saint.  St. Stephen was a first, a famous first – not the first to friend Jesus, not the first to respond to Jesus, but he was the first to be killed because of the Jesus.  A painful but indelible first – and an important reminder that not every first is fun.

 

Neither is every first intentional.  Stephen, I can say with some certainty, did not intend to be pummeled with stones.  He did not set out with the intention of being the first martyr of the Jesus’ movement.  It just happened. 

 

Stephen loved God and he loved people.  And probably, like most people who love to love, he thought that would go well, be well received.  It didn’t and it was not.

 

Stephen then is remembered as the first martyr.  It is a distinction he cannot escape.  Every statue of Stephen is both made of stone and holds a stone.  Every icon of our patron features the instrument of his death.  Stephen carries his rocks still – often balanced precariously on his static shoulder.    

 

Sadly, his first typically overshadows the legacy of his life.  Long before he bravely faced the thrown stones, Stephen was a faithful member of the Church, one of those people who shows up and quietly goes about their work; and because of that he was highly regarded within the early Christian community.  He was lauded for his deep faith, admired for his wisdom and grace.  He spent his days caring for widows and the poor, for those in need.  He shared the Good News of God in Christ with those who had yet to encounter the Gospel.  In short, he loved God and he loved people.  He was just a Christian doing Christian things – until life took an unexpected turn.  And now he is a saint, best remembered for the last moment of his sacred, well-lived life.

 

And we are named for him, for this first martyr, for this Christian whose life was defined by his love for God and his love for people.  Like him, we, Grace and St. Stephen’s, are also a first.  We were the first Episcopal Church established in what would be the city of Colorado Springs.  Actually, even better, we are the first and second Episcopal Churches established in Colorado Springs. 

 

The seeds of who we have become were planted in the downtown in 1873, a year before the great grasshopper plague, and a few years before Colorado was even a state.  Grace Episcopal Church was joined twenty years later in our city by St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church.  And in the 1920’s the Episcopalians came together with a unified mission: to love God and to love people.  Grace and St. Stephen’s came to be because our forebears believed they could do that work of love better together than apart.

 

Through the changes and chances of life, despite the challenges of this past century, this mission has endured.  We continue to strive to open our hearts, to love as boldly as the man for whom we are named.  And sometimes big, bold, broad love ruffles feathers.  But Stephen never lets us forget that love is always worth the cost. 

 

Our history as a parish is, let’s say, complex; it has not always been smooth or easy.  Even our current climate is not without difficulties. While certainly not the most significant challenge this church has ever faced, the last two and a half years, the early pandemic days, have also not been easy.  The pandemic disrupted the world and the nation, and so, of course, also disrupted us.  Familiar patterns were scrambled; beloved traditions placed on hold; momentum halted, or at least slowed. 

 

We stand now on the threshold of a new program year.  We do so with some sense of normalcy, even if new normalcy, for the first time since the Fall of 2019.  It feels hopeful, if uncertain.  Because of all we have experienced and endured in these times, it is fair to wonder what exactly the future holds for us, what exactly God now has in mind for us. 

 

The Church has seen much change since St. Stephen walked the earth.  This parish has seen much change since General Palmer donated a plot of land to some pioneering Episcopalians almost 150 years ago.  Even our lives, as short as they are in the grand scheme of history, have seen much change.  But while the details and circumstances ever shift around us, and even though the future promises changes we cannot possibly predict, at its core our mission remains the same; it is the same mission that captured a young man, now famously remembered as the first martyr, twenty long centuries ago.  It is our mission still, no matter what: to love God and to love people – in this world and in these times.  It is this love that Jesus named the first and great commandment – a first that, it turns out, no one, and nothing, can ever take away.