On this Feast of St. Stephen, pray for our Deacons, ALMIGHTY God, who by thy Divine Providence hast appointed divers Orders of Ministers in thy Church, and didst inspire thine Apostles to choose into the Order of Deacons the first Martyr Saint Stephen, with others; Mercifully behold thy servants; replenish them so with the truth of thy Doctrine, and adorn them with innocency of life, that, both by word and good example, they may faithfully serve thee, to the glory of thy name, and the edification of thy Church; through the merits of our Saviour Jesus Christ, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Ghost, now and for ever. Amen. St. Stephen, Deacon and Martyr I find it spiritually invigorating to move so rapidly from celebrating the birth of Our Lord, into the next days commemoration of the first one to die for his faith in that same Lord. St. Stephen - the great deacon, the compelling preacher, the martyr whose blood was a seed of faith in St. Paul - his was a life which showed very early that the Catholic faith was not designed for cowards! St. Stephen has been something of a patron saint for me for many years, but in an unconventional way. In 1975, I was ordained as an Anglican deacon in Bristol, England, and was assigned to St. Stephens Church, Southmead, which was one of the post-war council housing estates outside the city. The martyr Stephen had never been particularly important to me up to that point, but a spiritual bond began, which caused me to want to know more about him. The idea of his intercessory role in my life was not part of my thinking at that time in my spiritual life, but as I look back, I can see that was exactly what was happening. In 1976, my ordination as an Anglican priest took place in St. Stephens Church, Providence. Oddly, the thing I remember most about that day was kneeling before Bishop Belden, wishing that he was a Catholic bishop so that I could be a Catholic priest. Why should such an idea have come into my mind at that very moment? Because of St. Stephens prayers, no doubt. Of course, at that time it was a ridiculous thought, and I pushed it aside as being one of those silly things that pops into ones head at odd times. Now I can see that it was Gods plan for me being unfolded gradually. Only a few years later, Pope John Paul II approved the Pastoral Provision, which allowed that very thing to happen. When I celebrate Mass each year on St. Stephens Day, it is a special day for me. It always has a sense of quiet holiness, after the crowded Masses of the day before. It is a day when I especially give thanks to God for the priestly vocation He has given me, and the day serves as a reminder to me that the diaconate remains part of priestly ministry. Even the year when my father died on St. Stephens Day, it was bittersweet - it seemed to me to be right for such a good man to have died on the feast of such a good saint. Pray, good St. Stephen... pray for us all. Grant, O Lord, that in all our sufferings here upon earth for the testimony of thy truth, we may stedfastly look up to heaven, and by faith behold the glory that shall be revealed; and, being filled with the Holy Ghost, may learn to love and bless our persecutors by the example of thy first Martyr Saint Stephen, who prayed for his murderers to thee, O blessed Jesus, who standest at the right hand of God to succour all those who suffer for thee, our only Mediator and Advocate. Amen. ALSO- St. Francis at Greccio It was in a grotto at Greccio on Christmas Eve in 1223 that St. Francis created the first creche depicting the birth of our Saviour. It was a simple affair, but as word spread throughout the area the people began to arrive with torches and candles. There they heard the Poor Man of Assisi read the Gospel telling of Christs birth in Bethlehem, and he preached about Jesus taking poverty upon Himself, so that we might become rich in our love for God. Since that time, the scene has been recreated in our homes and in our churches, in places public and private, allowing us to go to Bethlehem, to see this great thing which has come to pass... Away in a manger, no crib for his bed, the little Lord Jesus laid down his sweet head. The stars in the bright sky looked down where he lay, the little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay. Dear Mary, his Mother, sang sweet lullabies, as Jesus, awaking, gazed into her eyes. The most holy Virgin, with loving caress embraced the world’s Saviour with Love’s tenderness. Good Joseph stood guarding the Mother and Child, his soul filled with awe and his heart undefiled. The birth of young Jesus made angels to sing, but Joseph in silence kept watch o’er his King. What once was a stable may our hearts become; may God’s holy fam’ly in us find a home. With Mary and Joseph and angels above we worship the Infant, the gift of God’s Love. Text: V.1, Traditional Vv. 2-4, Fr. Christopher G. Phillips, 1995 Music: Cradle Song, William James Kirkpatrick, (1838-1921)
Posted on: Fri, 26 Dec 2014 18:12:58 +0000
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