Sermon 5/26/13
Acts 6:8-15, 7:1-2a, 51-60
Pentecost Aftermath: Stephen
Some of you know that I have a real interest in psychological
personality types, specifically a model of understanding called the
Myers-Briggs Type Indicators. You might have taken this test yourself at some
point, or at least be familiar with part of the system. You receive a four
letter type – either an E or I – for extrovert/introvert – this is the part
many of you many know about yourself already – then either N or S – are you
intuiting or sensing? – T or F – thinking or feeling – and J or P – judging or
perceiving. If you want to know more about my psyche, I can tell you that I am
an INFJ. I usually have couples who are doing premarital counseling go through
this personality typing process, because it helps me get to know them, and
helps us have conversations about how they relate to each other, particularly
in situations that are less than perfect. Sometimes workplaces have employees
and bosses take these tests, so that all can work together to create a better
workplace environment. I’ve read a resource that particularly talks about
personality types among clergy, and what the strengths and struggles are for
pastors of different types.
For all
of the types, for example, the Myers-Briggs test will reveal something about
how you handle conflict. You might already know this about yourself too. Are
you a person who is confrontational? Do you love a good fight or debate? Do you
keep quiet in an argument? Do you make sure you are not even around in a
conflict? You all might have been amused to see, once upon a time, Pastor Aaron
and I on a long road trip with your former associate, Pastor Heather. Aaron
loves a good debate, and Heather can’t stay out of a debate if her buttons have
been pushed, and I sat quietly in the
back seat, occasionally offering up placating words to diffuse conflict! I
could have told you before I ever took my own test that I tend to be a
conflict-avoider. My official results
say this: “INFJs are concerned for people's feelings, and try to be gentle to
avoid hurting anyone. They are very sensitive to conflict, and cannot tolerate
it very well. Situations which are charged with conflict may drive the normally
peaceful INFJ into a state of agitation or charged anger.” Of course, avoiding
conflict isn’t really something that is possible if you want to interact with people, is it?! And in particular, avoiding
conflict isn’t always helpful in the midst of a congregation of diverse people
and opinions, particularly when you are a leader
of those people! Over my years of ministry, handling conflict has been
something I’ve had to work hard it, and sometimes I have more success than
others!
Today we
step into a major conflict in the book of Acts, one that ends in death, as we
read the story of Stephen. Unlike the disciples like Peter and company,
Stephen’s task in the community of Jesus-followers was not primarily as a
preacher of the gospel at all – he wasn’t one of the apostles. Stephen was part
of a group of servants who had a special task in the early church. People
outside of the faith criticized that the fervor of the disciples for preaching
the gospel had caused them to neglect other duties like feeding the widowed and
the needy. Their criticism was a reason for them to reject the teachings of
Jesus – the disciples didn’t really take care of those in need! Why believe
their message of good news? But the twelve responded, “‘It is not right that we
should neglect the word of God in order to wait on tables. Therefore, friends,
select from among yourselves seven men of good standing, full of the Spirit and
of wisdom, whom we may appoint to this task, while we, for our part, will
devote ourselves to prayer and to serving the word.’” So seven were chosen, one
of whom was this man we read about today, Stephen. These seven looked on the
needs of the least in their community, making sure that those who were without
could receive food and be taken care of. In other words, Stephen wasn’t a
preacher or a pastor, or an apostle – that wasn’t his vocation. He was a
servant, a helper, a supporter in ministry. If Stephen were a 21st century
believer, he might be any one of you – someone who stepped up to help meet the
needs of the community.
It turns
out though that Stephen, even though he wasn’t one of the apostles, was still a
rowdy synagogue member. He wasn’t content to just go with the flow or keep
quiet in his own community of faith. So Stephen and some of his fellow
synagogue members were constantly debating and arguing about his involvement in
this new faith. Eventually, his peers had enough, and began to plot against
him. We read of their scheming in Acts: “But they could not withstand the
wisdom and the Spirit with which [Stephen] spoke. Then they secretly instigated
some men to say, ‘We have heard him speak blasphemous words against Moses and
God.’ They stirred up the people as well as the elders and the scribes; then
they suddenly confronted him, seized him, and brought him before the council.
They set up false witnesses who said, ‘This man never stops saying things
against this holy place and the law; for we have heard him say that this Jesus
of Nazareth will destroy this place and will change the customs that Moses handed
on to us.’ And all who sat in the council looked intently at [Stephen], and
they saw that his face was like the face of an angel.”
The
authorities ask Stephen to respond to these accusations. And he does, in a big
way. Stephen says that through the ages people have rejected the prophets that
God sent to reach them, and just so they rejected Jesus, God-come-to-earth to
reach them. He doesn’t try to soften his words, and he doesn’t try to make
friends. He doesn’t temper what he says, or recant any of his beliefs, even
though he is clearly in trouble. Stephen just says what is on his heart. The
synagogue leaders respond to Stephen’s testimony: “When they heard these
things,” we read, “they became enraged and ground their teeth at Stephen.”
Instead of being scared by the group, Stephen is fortified by the vision of
Jesus he has. He tries to share his vision, but his words fall on unhearing
ears. The men drag Stephen into the street, they throw their coats at the feet
of a man named Saul, and they stone Stephen to death, literally pelting rocks
at him until he dies. Stephen’s last words echo Jesus’ on the cross, as he
pleads for forgiveness for those who are putting him to death. Stephen, not one
of the twelve, not known for his preaching or leadership, was just someone who
was trying to serve others, and he was unwilling to say or do otherwise, even
with the cost being his own life.
Yet, Stephen is known as the first Christian, the first
Jesus-follower, who sacrifices his life for the movement. He’s the first martyr
of this newly-birthed church. That word, martyr, comes from the Greek word marturia, and in Greek, that word means witness. Someone who is willing to martyr themselves is a witness for an issue or topic or person
about whom they are passionate. Stephen was a witness for Jesus. But witness
is one of those funny words that has a lot of baggage in the Christian
church today, baggage that distracts us from understanding what the word means.
We sometimes think of a witness as
when someone goes door to door, like a Jehovah’s Witness adherent, witnessing, or proclaiming their faith,
in an evangelistic sort of way. But I think we better understand witness if we think about a trial, and
people who are called as witnesses in a trial. Witnesses in trials are called
on to tell the truth about what they have seen and experienced related to a
particular event. That’s actually just what Stephen does, isn’t it? He tells
the truth about what he knows about Jesus Christ, what he’s experienced. What
moves Stephen from being more than a witness, in today’s language, to being a
martyr, is that he witnesses to the
truth despite his circumstances, which were clearly dangerous to his life. When
would you be willing to tell the truth about something, to witness, no matter what the costs were to yourself?
What strikes me as so powerful about Stephen’s witness to us is that he didn’t have to do it. He could have, at some
point, stopped debating with synagogue leaders, joined a different community,
run away. He could have gone into hiding, left town. He didn’t have to have this fight. He chose to,
because he was so committed to speaking the truth he believed about the life he
was called to in Christ. What would you give your life for? When would you
speak up, and when would you stay silent?
We are the story-tellers, the ones, now, in whose hands and
hearts the good news of the gospel resides. At what cost will we stay silent?
Stephen wasn’t even silent with threat of death. But I worry that we sometimes can
be silent even over our mild discomfort! You have probably heard this famous
poem by Pastor Martin Niemoller, written in the wake of Nazism and the
Holocaust. First they came for the communists, and I didn't speak out because I
wasn't a communist. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I didn't speak
out because I wasn't a trade unionist. Then they came for the Jews, and I
didn't speak out because I wasn't a Jew. Then they came for me and there was no
one left to speak out for me. We say actions speak louder than words, and if
that is true, then inaction is a deafening silence.
Today is a day when we have honored and remembered loved
ones we have lost, and particularly, for many, loved ones who felt so committed
to their country and the values of their nation, that they were willing to put themselves
in harm’s way in order to uphold these values for the good of the whole. What
do you value so much that you will
not fail to speak the truth about it, no matter what situation you encounter? I’ve
told you how much I dislike conflict, but in my own life, I find I rarely have
trouble speaking up if you are harming in word or deed a member of my family, a
dear friend, a loved one. Then it is easy to speak. Or if I witness an act of
injustice in progress, I find it much easier to speak. I’m guessing many of you
feel the same way. But what about when the situation doesn’t involve someone
you are close to. Would you still feel compelled to speak the truth? What about
when you hear people speaking of others who are not present? Would you still
speak up? What about when there would be immediate negative consequences in
your life for witnessing to truth? I’ll be honest – I hope I’m never put in a
situation where I have to choose whether or not to lay down my life – I’m
pretty fond of it! But I don’t think we can read about Stephen without asking
ourselves some hard questions. How much is telling the truth worth to us? How
much do we value it? Our lives are witness – what we do, how we behave, how we
act, when we speak, when we stay silent – they’re always testifying in some
way. What is your life saying? Amen.
Comments