Sermon For July 16, 2000
HEBREW TESTAMENT: The Death of Stephen ~ Acts 6:8-15
My name is Stephen. I grew up a good Jew. Following the laws of Moses. Doing all that was required of us for righteousness. Like all the others, I resented the rule of Rome and waited for the day when God would send the anointed one. The messiah, to drive out the armies of the Emperor, that we might again be free to worship as God called us to worship. I yearned for that day, but had no idea when that day might come. Then came the time when I was walking down the street, it was during the gathering of the Feast of Weeks, we were celebrating the harvest. I heard many voices speaking, I heard the disciples of one Jesus of Nazareth. I had heard of this preacher before, but had never listened carefully. But as I received their words, I realized that this was the person that I had been waiting for. I felt myself filled with such excitement, that my whole life changed, my days were different. I gathered as often as I could. To listen to his close friends tell stories, about the life of this man Jesus, about the way that he healed with a touch. About the way he knew just the right words to speak to someone. I knew then that what I wanted more than anything at all, was to be like Jesus.
We all went to synagogue on the Sabbath. The next day we gathered once again, in the homes of one of the followers of Jesus, and we shared together in a meal. After the meal someone would take a cup of wine and some bread, and speak again the words that Jesus had shared with his disciples on the night that he was arrested. We shared everything together. We pooled our money to take care of those who were in need. The disciples were busy, always talking to some group, helping those who were in need. Then we began to hear reports from some of the un-churched, from some of the Greeks, that their widows were not receiving any food at the meal. Peter and Andrew, James and John, they heard the concerns and they said, “We are so busy with preaching and healing, we need some help.” So seven were chosen. Seven were chosen to tend the tables. To oversee the meal, so that everyone would be fed. I, Stephen was one of those seven. I was touched by the honor, but as the weeks went by, I realized that God’s Spirit was calling me to do much more. Tending table was not enough. It did not provide enough release for that excitement that I felt within me. So like the disciples before me, I began to talk to people about Jesus, about my Lord, about the love of God.
At first, we were well received by our Jewish sisters and brothers. But then they began to be critical of us, challenge us. I spoke with them patiently. I shared with them the excitement that I felt. Described, step by step, how I knew this man, Jesus, was the promised Messiah. They were unable to withstand my words. They stopped their challenges. Then they began to spread rumors about me, gossip. They said I had spoken against the faith, that I had tried to destroy the laws of Moses. When I would begin to speak, people would turn their backs on me. They wanted nothing to do with me. Then I was brought before the council. They made false accusations against me. They said, “He is preaching about this man Jesus, and how Jesus will destroy all of our faith, and will make everything different.” The chief priest said to me, “Is this so? Is this true what they say? Do you blaspheme against Moses?” So I stood up and I spoke to them all. I was not afraid of their words. I was not afraid of their challenge. I wanted to be like Jesus. I was not afraid to die, not afraid to die for something that I believed in. What I was afraid of was living for a lie. I was afraid of living for fear, afraid of living hypocrisy. I was afraid of living my life so that my days would count for nothing. But to die for something that I believed in, to die speaking of my Lord, Jesus Christ, it is the only sane thing to do, the only rational thing to do, the only right thing to do. I stood before them with no fear.
I told them the story again, that each of them had known from the time that they were young children. I said, “Remember? Remember when God called forth our father, Abraham? Abraham and Sarah left their home and traveled to the land that God said would be theirs. Even when they were old, they still believed the promise that God would give them a child. The time came and Isaac was born. The years went by. Jacob. Jacob and his twelve sons. Joseph inspired by the Spirit, but his brothers turned their anger against him, and sold him off into slavery. Joseph had power in Pharaoh’s court until the new Pharaoh came. A new Pharaoh, who knew nothing of our God. A new Pharaoh who made our people slaves. The people stayed there on that land, oppressed by the Pharaoh until one day, God raised up Moses. Moses adopted by the Pharaoh’s daughter. Moses learned the Egyptian ways and spoke with power and strength. One day Moses saw one of his people being oppressed by an Egyptian. Moses struck the Egyptian dead. The next day he saw two of his brothers arguing with each other. “Brothers, why do you argue?” They said, “Who are you to speak to us! Are you going to kill us, too?” They did not understand God’s Spirit and they turned their backs on God’s messenger. At each time, instead of listening to the call of the prophets, instead of listening to the words of God’s inspired messengers, the people looked for their own way. They built a golden idol in the desert, rather than listen to Moses. Solomon built a huge temple, even though the scriptures say, God does not live in a building made by hands. A prophet, it is said, is not without honor except in his own country. Each time a prophet was raised up by God, the people turned their backs and hardened their hearts and refused to listen. When Jesus of Nazareth stood before his own kinfolk and spoke in Synagogue. They said, “Who is this that speaks with God’s voice?” Then they grew angry and drove him out of the temple.
As I spoke to them of times when they had turned their backs on God’s prophets, I could see their bodies tense. I could see their lips drawn tight, anger building. I saw them picking up stones. Lift up your stone. Pick it up. Put it in your hand. Feel the texture of that stone. Feel it. Is it smooth? Is it rough? What is the weight of that stone in your hand? I spoke to them. I reminded them of their fathers and mothers, those who had separated from the Church of England. Those who gathered together and sailed across an ocean in a small boat called the Mayflower. They said they were driven by the Spirit, to find a place where they could worship as God called on them to worship. But when they arrived on these shores, they began to make rules about who was loved by God and who was not. They began to criticize those who were different, and demand that they follow the very same rules that they had decided to follow themselves. It was our ancestors who accused women of being witches. Who put them under the water, to see if their power would save them, or if they would die of their innocence. These good
God-fearing people looked at their Bibles and decided it was OK to own other human beings, to do their work, to ensure their economic futures. Our people turned their backs on the words of God’s Spirit. Then, years later, when righteous people had helped to provide freedom for all, hatred once again dropped a noose around heads, because of the color of their skin, and dangled bodies from trees.
God’s Spirit speaks, and the people refuse to listen. Women denied an opportunity to vote, a chance to stand in the pulpit to speak the word of God. People created by our God, refused the opportunity to be part of the worshiping community. The Spirit spoke, and two men rowed across the lake to this beautiful place, to speak of Jesus Christ, to speak of the love of God. This congregation was born. Throughout the years there were many good things that were accomplished. But throughout the years there were also times when people turned their backs on the Spirit. When, in the name of congregationalism, gossiping and backbiting and criticism became the method of operation. Instead of listening for the word of God, the people said, “No! We will do it our way!” I spoke to them until their anger poured over and they took those rocks, they took those rocks and they drove me out, to the edge of town. I felt them hit me. And hit again, and the rocks came, and I remembered how I wanted to be like Jesus. And the rocks again, and again, and I said, “God! Receive my Spirit!” The rocks drove me down to my knees and I said, “Lord, Lord, forgive them of their sins.” I looked into their eyes and saw their hatred and their fear. I looked up and saw the face of Saul. His face contorted with anger. The rocks came. And I died like Jesus.