Word Of The Day: St Stephens Day or The Feast Of St. Stephen St. Stephens Day, or the Feast of St. Stephen, is a Christian saints day observed on December 26th in the Western Church and December 27th in the Eastern Church. It commemorates St. Stephen, the martyr of Jerusalem and the protomartyr of the Church. Stephen is first mentioned in Acts of the Apostles as one of seven deacons appointed by the Apostles to distribute food and charitable aid to poorer members of the community. It is an official public holiday in many parts of Europe. The date is also a public holiday in some countries that celebrate Boxing Day in addition to or instead of St. Stephens Day. Traditions linked to the day include the ride of Stephens Day, a merry sleigh ride through village streets seen in contrast to the pious mood of Christmas Day and parades with singers in various styles of dress depending on the region. Editors Note: The Word Of The Day usually maintains a prosaic weekday schedule. However during the holidays, were working everyday fueled by the spirit of the season. This is the third day of Christmas (or the second or the fourth depending on whose counting). This Twelve Days of Christmas is kind of neat huh? As for the Feast of St Stephen, this definition lends greater insight into the traditional Christmas carol: Good King Wenceslas looked out On the feast of Stephen When the snow lay round about Deep and crisp and even Brightly shone the moon that night Though the frost was cruel When a poor man came in sight Gathring winter fuel Hither, page, and stand by me If thou knowst 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 him thither. Page and monarch forth they went Forth they went together Through the rude winds 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, my good page Tread thou in them boldly Thou shalt find the winters rage Freeze thy blood less coldly. In his masters 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
Posted on: Sun, 28 Dec 2014 18:35:50 +0000
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