Acts 7:55-60
I have been mulling over this story of the first recorded martyrdom—the stoning of Stephen—and wondering why it tugs at me so strongly. It most definitely is not the romantic lure of dying for the faith. Ihave more of the disposition of one who might bake cupcakes for the faith or send a letter for the faith…but boldly stand preaching in the public square, challenging my neighbors’ ideas about Jesus to the point of being killed? Um, no, that would be quite unlikely. But for all I know, it was unlikely for Stephen too.
What yields this kind of passion? We don’t know too much about Stephen other than he was one of the first seven deacons of the church,calledtohelp oversee food distribution to the Greek widows, whom some thought were being discriminated against in the early church—things weren’t automatically perfect even then, you know. He is identified as “a man full of faith and the Holy Spirit.” Of course, all of them had received the recent outpouring of the Holy Spirit, like the rush of a mighty wind with tongues of flame resting on each one. It was undoubtedly a raucous time, with thousands more joining them every few days,as they were stretched and propelled beyond their comfort zones in many areas of life.
Stephen quickly evolves from being a food distribution minister to being noted all around town for amazing signs and miracles and preaching. He started treading on territory reserved for those officially ordained to speak of God, and their biggest problem with Stephen was that they found it impossible to argue against his wisdom and truth. So they found some men willing to lie about him and serve as witnesses, which gave them reason to present their accusations to the high priest.
Defending himself before the high priest, Stephen recites a summary history of God’s journey with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob and Joseph and Moses and David, who built the Temple they prized so much. Stephen calls it “our story,” reminding them that they are brothers in God’s family, and then he dares to say that the Most High does not even live in temples made by human hands, quoting the Psalm that says the earth is God’s footstool, so puny are we in comparison to the Divine.He plunges on, telling them they are deaf to the truth and resisting the Holy Spirit, prone to persecution and deliberately disobeying God’s law. What was he thinking, stirring the hornet’s nest like that?
That’s the story behind thisparticular moment in today’s scripture passage in which Stephen is stoned for blasphemy. And it’s the story behind my own uneasy ponderings this week. Are we meant to be Stephens in the world, poking at the dragons of tradition and religion? Are suffering and persecution the marks of our faithfulness? Aren’t we to be peacemakers, not provokers? I get it that Jesus never promised a life of ease and surface pleasures, and that we must always be ready to speak of the faith that is within us, but are we to expect suffering to the point of death as a sign of true faith?
Having grown up in a family with a grandmother who, having cooked a big fried chicken dinner for everybody on Sunday, always chose the puny neck bone for herself, I am aware of the suffering servant motif. I asked her once why she would take the neck even when there were plenty of choice pieces still on the plate, and she said she had gotten used to it over the years and now preferred it. Are we to get used to suffering? Is it okay not to want to suffer?
I remember a few years ago three people approached me during the course of one weekto talk about a problem they were embarrassed to talk about. When things happen in threes, I always think God might be especially trying to get my attention, so I tried to listencarefully.Each of them hesitantly confessed havinga similar difficult dilemma—they were feeling, unaccountably, unreasonably, well, how to put it … happy. Each of them, in his or her own way, said they were aware of a remarkable ease and contentment in their lives, and it was unsettling. As you can imagine, these were three thoughtful, sincere, seeking-the-depths persons, who were painfully aware of all the serious issues and struggles of vast numbers of people in various dire situations. They were committed to the way of Jesus and to being a sign of hope in a hurting world, and they wondered if it seemed right that they weren’t suffering.In fact, quite the opposite. They were … shhh … enjoying their lives. Was this a sign of waning faithfulness? They had done nothing to deserve their contentment, any more than others had done anything to deserve suffering, so was it fair? Should they strive to be more immersed in suffering?
I certainly don’t know if there areright answers, but I do tend to think that the willingness to ask hard questions is perhaps more important than getting answers…and I wonder if Stephen might hold a bit of insight for us. Stephen did not go out in search of suffering. He was having a great time in this new community that was on fire with the flames of the Holy Spirit. He was feeding the hungry, addressing the injustices in their own community, touching and being touched by the presence of Jesus in their midst. He was not searching for ways to prove that he was a devoted disciple and more obedient to the faith than others. He simply had caught fire, and he couldn’t NOT speak his truth wherever he went.
One of the vivid parts of this small excerpt of scripture for me is where it says those questioning and taunting Stephen so desperately wanted NOT to hear what he was saying that they covered their ears, like little kids(“I can’t hear you, I can’t hear you”) refusing to know whatever God was trying to tell them. They covered their ears and rushed at him in mob-fashion and dragged him out of the city, probably to a high spot where they could throw him over the edge and then hurl stones down upon him. As long as they could maintain their frenzied attack, they would not have to think about what they were doing.
They laid their coats at the feet of young man named Saul, who after this incident became one of the most vicious attackers of people of faith, known for dragging faithful women and men both out of their homes and giving them over to be tortured. It was while he was on his way to Damascus to do more of the same when his own journey took a sharp and dramatic turn, and the one who refused to see was made blind in order to see more clearly.
God is never finished writing the story. Suffering does not get the final word. Our hurtful and hateful outbursts against one another do not get the final word. And neither do our times of peace and serenity. The primary question, it seems to me, is not whetherwe should suffer a lot or a little, but will we show up fully for the life that God is giving us? Will we stand where we stand and speak what is ours to speak? Will the words on our lips be vengeful or forgiving? Stephen clearly believed the Resurrected Jesus when he announced forgiveness as the key practice of the new community. He died in peace not because he loved suffering, but because he was faithful to his suffering and was able to forgive.
Will we enter the life of Jesus fully enough, with our protective screens lowered enough, so as to hear and feel and taste and see the goodness of the Lord, even at the risk of being hurt? Even knowing for certain wewill be hurt? Maybe we will be called upon to die for Christ, maybe we will not. But without a doubt we will be, and are each day, called to LIVE for Christ, which is nothing more, nothing less, than living with our hearts open. This alone will bring enough suffering for us to get plenty of practice in forgiving. It is one of the best gifts of the community, to let ourselves be known in both our suffering and our happiness, and to be a place for both giving and receiving forgiveness.