Chase The Kangaroo

The Cost of Love

Christmas has barely settled when the Church changes the tone.

The light is still burning. The songs still linger. And yet, on December 26, the calendar refuses to let us remain in sentiment. The Church places Saint Stephen immediately after Christmas, not by accident, but by design.

Love has arrived.
Now comes the cost.

Stephen appears in the Book of Acts as one of the first deacons of the early Church. He was chosen to serve, to care for those overlooked, to tend the ordinary needs of the community. But Stephen does not remain safely in the background. When pressed, he speaks plainly about Christ. He refuses to dilute the truth to preserve his life.

And for that, he is killed.

He becomes the first martyr. The first to die because Christmas actually happened.

This is why his feast falls where it does. The Church wants no confusion about what the Incarnation means. God has come near, but the world has not suddenly become hospitable. Love does not arrive and immediately make things safe. Often, it makes them costly.

Stephen’s death is striking not only for its violence, but for its resemblance to Christ’s own. As stones are thrown, Stephen prays. He forgives. He entrusts himself to God. Love does not harden him. It does not turn him bitter. It holds.

And then there is the detail the Church never forgot. Stephen sees Christ standing at the right hand of God.

As the stones fall, Stephen looks up and says, “I see heaven open and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God.”

Not seated in judgment.
Standing in witness.

St. Stephen’s Day reminds us that following Christ does not guarantee protection from harm. It guarantees presence in it. Love does not withdraw when it meets resistance. It bears witness anyway.

This is not meant to darken Christmas. It is meant to tell the truth about it.

If Christmas proclaims that God has entered the world, then St. Stephen’s Day shows what it looks like when that love is lived openly in a world that still resists it. Faithfulness does not always lead to success. It leads to obedience. It leads to witness. Sometimes, it leads to loss.

And still, the light remains.

Stephen does not undo Christmas. He proves it was real.

Love came close.
Love stayed true.
Love paid a price.

This is the cost the Church names before moving on. Not to discourage, but to steady us. To remind us that the way of Christ is not sentimental, but it is good.

The Incarnation holds.
Even here.