In sanctum Stephanum i

On Saint Stephen I. The memory of the contests they have completed adorns the noble athletes; but let our speech also adorn them, as far as possible, by proclaiming their achievements through praise of them; for the recollection of their virtue is sufficient instruction for our ways. Let us therefore make a beginning of encomia for the Lord's athletes with the one who first opened the stadium of piety and first began the athletic exercises. The grace of the Spirit anointed him, and the heavenly contest-master trained him for the wrestling, not boxing with the body nor thrusting out his hands in competition, but sharpening his tongue against those who fight with their hands. Let us then see the athlete, how in all things he appeared an imitator of the Lord; for he had the same antagonists, who were emboldened even against Him. Yet the saving passion did not satisfy their savagery, but those who formerly shed the Lord's blood still thirst for blood, and those who wrought the Lord's murder think similarly against his servants.

Let us then present the approved athlete in our discourse. For even in external contests, when the crown-winners are being judged, they are accustomed to bring in those who have been selected and chosen for the wrestling-matches, so that the esteemed crown-winner may be proclaimed as the one who is a match in strength. But here, say, "The first champion, the unconquerable tower of piety" (for one would not err in addressing him with all these titles) became a teacher for those who contended after him through his own labors, and having been the first to seize the crowns, he showed those who followed that the enemies were easy to handle, aiming only at the body but leaving the soul unwounded. For he says, "Do not fear those who kill the body, but are unable to kill the soul." Therefore, mindful of that divine voice which anointed him for the wrestling-matches, the athlete stripped for the contests in this way, and by wounding with his tongue those who were shooting down his body with stones, he showed himself through his words to be more powerful than their missiles. And while he received the wounds from the stones in his body, he wounded those who were throwing them more bitterly with his words, and provoked them to war against him, so that they might make his journey to heaven swifter. And consider for me the difference between the missiles: for they were burying his body with stones, but he, with the words supplied to him by the Spirit, was aiming at their hearts. For it says, "No one was able to withstand the wisdom and the spirit with which he spoke." O tongue, louder than a trumpet!

of a soul undaunted, harder than any adamant! He saw the Jewish mob gathering against the athlete, and as if beholding a mere shadow, he despised those present, and receiving the showers of stones, he exulted over his body, as if a tower were being built for him from the stones, so that through it he might reach heaven. What, then, could be mightier than that rational rock? What could be seen more steadfast than the pillar of the Church? Faith preserved him unswerving; leaning as if on the most secure supports, he remained unwounded, his body variegated with wounds, his soul adorned with endurance, and vying with heaven itself in his own beauty. For just as that heaven is shown beautiful, adorned with the chorus of stars, so too this marvelous athlete, having the Lord’s tunic, was adorned with wounds as with varied garments, and rejoiced bearing the marks of the Lord on his body as if they were the Lord’s own insignia. The stones did not overthrow the athlete, but like a plant reaching to heaven rooted in the earth, he was kept unbending, receiving the volleys of stones and not falling. For to him that prophetic saying would fittingly apply: “The righteous will flourish like a palm tree.” His body was reddened and flowed with streams of blood, as he received wave after wave of stones, but far more was he petrified by faith.

He was looking toward the heavenly judge, who stretches out his hand to his own athletes and draws them up to heaven, where the prizes of the contests are stored, where the awarding of crowns takes place, and perhaps he cries out, according to Paul: "Thus I run, as not for an uncertain goal; thus I box, as not striking the air. I am pelted, and I wound with my words." "Remember," he says, "your fathers who stoned the prophets. For whom," he says, "did your fathers not persecute? You have become heirs of an evil succession, having emulated their madness. Like your fathers, so you: you have inherited their ancestral bloodshed." These are the words of the crown of the Churches, such are the arrows of the crowned victor against his opponents. And just as someone kindles a flame in a grove, so the protomartyr further incited their madness against himself. For he saw the one he longed for, and he longed for the one he beheld, and perhaps he uttered something like this to them: "You aim at the outer garment, and you send the stones against the body; but it has escaped you, it seems, that you are fulfilling my desire.

For indeed he himself, even before Paul, hastens to strip off the external man, so that with a naked soul I may fly to heaven, and, crossing the ethereal sea, reign together with the Master. This voyage alone has no shipwreck; this seafaring preserves those who sail from storms; my vessel sails without danger, for I have a heavenly helmsman, who steers with his own intelligible rudders. Dye my body with wounds; for your fathers also dyed the tunic of Joseph with blood, as you do. For it is fitting that the saying spoken by the martyr be constantly repeated to them. You imitated those who left you the evil inheritance; but they too, having sold Joseph, missed their hope, and you, stoning the bodily temple, build a more beautiful solid temple; I am moved to see its portals, for it is fixed from earth to heaven. These words are fitting for Stephen, who leaped forth from the apostolic chosen ones into the contests, and reached the end of martyrdom with a swifter course, who contended on earth and was lifted up into heaven; who, while his enemies were speaking, conquered them, and while they were stoning, he prayed, and in this imitating the Master, he says to the contest-giver: Lord Jesus Christ, receive my spirit. My contest is finished, he says; therefore receive the crown-wearer in heaven; receive, the contest-giver, the athlete; for I run toward the crowns, and I hasten to obtain the prizes of the contests here.

Thus the protomartyr feasted us, appearing glorious both in his words and in his struggles—the crown of the martyrs, the diadem of the Churches, he who hastens to overtake the Master in his course, and who hearkened to the divine voice calling from heaven: "Where I am," he says, "there also is my deacon." For it says, "Think upon the things above, where Christ sits at the right hand of the Father." That throne, the royal throne, he yearned for; toward those prizes of the heavenly calling he ran; those royal gifts, distributed by the heavenly king to his own champions, he desired. What discourse, then, would suffice to exalt such and so great an athlete worthily in speech—he who is proclaimed through his deeds and has left behind, like an indelible pillar, the memory of his own achievements? Let us emulate his longing and imitate his virtue, so that we may enjoy the crowns that lie in store, by the grace of the only-begotten Son of God, with whom glory is given to the Father together with the Holy Spirit, now and always, and unto the ages. Amen.