"Mark my footsteps, good my page. Tread thou in them boldlyThou shalt find the winter's rage freeze thy blood less coldly."
There is a legend about a 10th century Duke of Bohemia (the modern day Czech Republic) that claims that the man was so pious and generous that even his footsteps provided warmth for those that followed him. This Duke, who was sainted after his death, is known to most English-speaking Christians as “Good King Wenceslas,” the hero in the popular Christmas carol of the same name:
There is a legend about a 10th century Duke of Bohemia (the modern day Czech Republic) that claims that the man was so pious and generous that even his footsteps provided warmth for those that followed him. This Duke, who was sainted after his death, is known to most English-speaking Christians as “Good King Wenceslas,” the hero in the popular Christmas carol of the same name:
When the snow lay round about, deep and crisp and even;
Brightly shone the moon that night, tho' the frost was cruel,
When a poor man came in sight, gath'ring winter fuel.
"Hither, page, and stand by me, if thou know'st it, telling,
Yonder peasant, who is he? Where and what his dwelling?"
"Sire, he lives a good league hence, underneath the mountain;
Right against the forest fence, by Saint Agnes' fountain."
"Bring me flesh, and bring me wine, bring me pine logs hither:
Thou and I will see him dine, when we bear them thither."
Page and monarch, forth they went, forth they went together;
Through the rude wind's wild lament and the bitter weather.
"Sire, the night is darker now, and the wind blows stronger;
Fails my heart, I know not how; I can go no longer."
"Mark my footsteps, good my page. Tread thou in them boldly
Thou shalt find the winter's rage freeze thy blood less coldly.
"In his master's steps he trod, where the snow lay dinted;
Heat was in the very sod which the saint had printed.
Therefore, Christian men, be sure, wealth or rank possessing,
Ye who now will bless the poor, shall yourselves find blessing.
The setting of this carol is not Christmas Day, but the day after Christmas, which is the Feast of Saint Stephen. Saint Stephen is regarded as the first martyr of the Christian Church and one of its first deacons. Stephen’s task was to serve the widows in the early church and make sure that they got the food that they needed. Stephen was falsely accused of blasphemy and stoned to death by religious leaders who envied his gifts of ministry. The Feast of Stephen has been celebrated on December 26th since the 4th century, or roughly from the time that the Church started celebrating Christmas on December 25th. Why have these two feasts been linked for so long? It is easy for us to get caught up in the story of the Nativity and miss the profound significance of the greater story that is being told. We often think of children dressed as shepherds doing church plays or of the joy and innocence of kids opening toys on Christmas morning, but lest we become too enchanted by the joy and revelry, the Feast of Stephen is right there to remind us that faith and religion are anything but child’s play. Sometimes showing love to others comes at a cost far greater than any credit card bill.
Stephen, like all deacons, dedicated his life to serving others. For Stephen, serving others was an act of love, but love always comes at great risk. The Nativity story is full of risk: Mary risked her own life for the love of God and for the love of her child; the Magi risked their lives by travelling to a foreign land to show their love to an unknown child; Joseph risked his and Mary’s life by fleeing to Egypt to save the life of their newborn. In the Hanukah story, the Maccabeans risked their lives for the love of God. Good King Wenceslas risked the cold to see that a poor man was warm and well fed. Risk is all around us this time of year. I think the publicity surrounding this flu season has made us all more aware of the great risk we take when we serve others. While we may (and should) do everything in our power to reduce our risk of getting sick or spreading disease to others, healthcare workers still take a risk every time they come to work to care for others that are suffering. This is nothing new. The Church has a long list of saints who risked (and sometimes lost) their lives for the sake of serving those in need. Whether or not we consciously think about it, every act of love is an act of risk taking, even (as the Christian story goes) for God.
Serving others may not always be comfortable and pleasant. It can at times (as the story of St. Stephen reminds us) have horrible consequences. It may mean holding the hands of those whom the world has abandoned. It may mean risking our own lives for the sake of the lives of others. It may mean literally or figuratively stepping out into the cold world to bring warmth to others. The beauty of many of our religious traditions are that they help us take that risk together. Like the young page following King Wenceslas, if we follow in the footsteps of the saints that have gone before us perhaps the world won’t be quite so cold.
We could, of course, try to play it safe. We could not take a chance on love; we could ignore the needs of others; we could just go our own way avoiding every risk, but what a bitterly cold world that would be indeed. Living in a world where our creator doesn’t risk loving us and where we don’t risk loving each other is, in my opinion, the only risk not worth taking.
The setting of this carol is not Christmas Day, but the day after Christmas, which is the Feast of Saint Stephen. Saint Stephen is regarded as the first martyr of the Christian Church and one of its first deacons. Stephen’s task was to serve the widows in the early church and make sure that they got the food that they needed. Stephen was falsely accused of blasphemy and stoned to death by religious leaders who envied his gifts of ministry. The Feast of Stephen has been celebrated on December 26th since the 4th century, or roughly from the time that the Church started celebrating Christmas on December 25th. Why have these two feasts been linked for so long? It is easy for us to get caught up in the story of the Nativity and miss the profound significance of the greater story that is being told. We often think of children dressed as shepherds doing church plays or of the joy and innocence of kids opening toys on Christmas morning, but lest we become too enchanted by the joy and revelry, the Feast of Stephen is right there to remind us that faith and religion are anything but child’s play. Sometimes showing love to others comes at a cost far greater than any credit card bill.
Stephen, like all deacons, dedicated his life to serving others. For Stephen, serving others was an act of love, but love always comes at great risk. The Nativity story is full of risk: Mary risked her own life for the love of God and for the love of her child; the Magi risked their lives by travelling to a foreign land to show their love to an unknown child; Joseph risked his and Mary’s life by fleeing to Egypt to save the life of their newborn. In the Hanukah story, the Maccabeans risked their lives for the love of God. Good King Wenceslas risked the cold to see that a poor man was warm and well fed. Risk is all around us this time of year. I think the publicity surrounding this flu season has made us all more aware of the great risk we take when we serve others. While we may (and should) do everything in our power to reduce our risk of getting sick or spreading disease to others, healthcare workers still take a risk every time they come to work to care for others that are suffering. This is nothing new. The Church has a long list of saints who risked (and sometimes lost) their lives for the sake of serving those in need. Whether or not we consciously think about it, every act of love is an act of risk taking, even (as the Christian story goes) for God.
Serving others may not always be comfortable and pleasant. It can at times (as the story of St. Stephen reminds us) have horrible consequences. It may mean holding the hands of those whom the world has abandoned. It may mean risking our own lives for the sake of the lives of others. It may mean literally or figuratively stepping out into the cold world to bring warmth to others. The beauty of many of our religious traditions are that they help us take that risk together. Like the young page following King Wenceslas, if we follow in the footsteps of the saints that have gone before us perhaps the world won’t be quite so cold.
We could, of course, try to play it safe. We could not take a chance on love; we could ignore the needs of others; we could just go our own way avoiding every risk, but what a bitterly cold world that would be indeed. Living in a world where our creator doesn’t risk loving us and where we don’t risk loving each other is, in my opinion, the only risk not worth taking.
Blessings,
Fr. Kevin
