“A Living Faith” Acts 7:55-60 Fifth Sunday of Easter
Well, today’s scripture reading certainly sounds a lot different from the ones we’ve had the last several weeks. I mean, we’ve been on a spiritual high, haven’t we? Jesus is alive! The disciples have seen him, shared meals with him, and enjoyed his presence once again. We’ve talked about resurrection, joy, and life. Some of us have renewed our commitment to God, and reaffirmed our faith in the life and teachings of Jesus, and our place as his followers. Indeed, these past few months have been a time of reflection, renewal, and rejoicing in our lives, just as it was in the lives of the disciples. So how does this recounting of the death of the first Christian martyr “fit” into our Easter season lectionary? Here we have, Stephen, a person who the writer of the book of Acts refers to as, “a man of great faith and full of the Holy Spirit.” This is someone who was chosen by the early church to help maintain the peace between different groups within the church when some members felt neglected and overlooked. He even did great works in the name of Jesus and shared his faith openly and enthusiastically. Yet we meet Stephen today, not as the pastor of some huge mega-church, and not as the author of great religious works, as we wait in line for his autograph. Instead, we meet him alone, in the midst of an angry mob, a stones throw away from hearing Jesus say “Well done, good and faithful servant.” Not exactly a ringing endorsement for being a follower of Jesus . . . or maybe it is. Even as we study the events of Stephen’s death, we begin to catch a glimpse of his life. Here we have a man whose dying breath was a testament to his living faith. We call Stephen the first Christian martyr because he was the first to die for this fledgling faith. But as I was preparing for this sermon, I discovered something interesting. The original Greek word that we translate as martyr actually means “witness.” When we call Stephen, or anyone else for that matter, a martyr of the Christian faith, what we are really saying is that their death was a witness to and a final testimony of their faith in the transforming and renewing power of God. So the next question is, “What can we learn about the power of God by observing Stephen’s final moments?” At first, it might not seem like we can learn much at all or at least nothing we really want to hear. I mean, we worship a God so mighty that with just a word, all of creation came into being. We follow a God that defeated death. Isn’t that what we celebrated just a few weeks ago? And yet, here we have one of God’s loyal followers falling prey to a slanderous group of jealous men, determined to return things to the status quo. How could this situation, this moment possibly give witness to the awesome power of God? Quite simply, it reminds us that we are looking at the wrong idea of power. We tend to think of power in terms of might and strength and the resources to accomplish all that we desire. This is the very same power that is often sought out today in industry, in government, and even at our workplace. That kind of power has the ability to transform alright, just look at the world around us. However, in its wake, more often than not, it leaves anger, fear, resentment, oppression, and even violence. The power of God is radically different. Where God’s power is made manifest, there is healing, peace, hope, liberation, and forgiveness. So, what is this power that Jesus came to Earth to share with us? What could be so strong that it defeated death and was able to restore direct fellowship with God in spite of our fears, doubts, and resistance? What is this transformative, renewing strength that Stephen expressed even as he was dying? The power of God is love. Or to quote the writer of the book of I John, “God is love.” When we truly understand this fact, and when we fully allow God to come into our life and fill us with the Holy Spirit, we will be changed. Stephen died asking God for forgiveness for the very people who were taking his life. From our point of view, he had every right to yell at his accusers, perhaps even pick up a stone or two to throw back at them. But Stephen’s actions were instead colored with forgiveness, peace, and love. And because of his gentle witness, Saul, one of the greatest persecutors of the Christian faith saw a glimmer of truth that day. Many of you might recall that in the past I asked for prayer for an online friend of mine as she dealt with the incredible stresses and frustrations of life during her deployment in Afghanistan. Within two months of getting back home, she was once again sent back to the Middle East, this time to Iraq. While her unit was there, they were sent on a routine mission to deliver relief supplies to one of the villages. While in the midst of unloading the supplies, she and the others suddenly realized that they were being stoned. At first the villagers were timid and only threw small rocks at their feet, but they soon become bold and the rocks got larger and were thrown harder. My friend’s first reaction was to want to pick up the rocks and throw them back. But she realized that any reaction they took would only anger the crowd more and she could just see the headlines as the press went wild over the story of the violent Americans hurting innocent people. She wanted to react, but she remembered her mission and who she represented. Perhaps that day, those who were stoning the soldiers saw a glimmer of truth. Once we have experienced the awesome and unconditional love of God we too will behave differently. Granted we may never be stoned to death for our faith, but stones take on many forms. How we react to the daily pressures of life is a witness to others about the depth of our faith. Any time we make the choice to respond to hate with love, to being mistreated with forgiveness, to disappointment with hope, and to anger with calmness and rationality, we continue to bring about the kingdom of God on earth. Each moment of reacting in love creates a glimpse of heaven in the here and now. The more we allow ourselves to feel and respond to the love of God, the overflow of that experience will reach out and touch the lives of all we come into contact with. So, the question today is not whether we are willing to die for our faith. Instead, examining Stephen’s death asks the question, “How can I more fully live into the love that God desires for me?” Amen.