Sermon: Sticks and stones break more than bones (May 14, 2017)

Easter 5A

May 14, 2017

Acts 7:55-60

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

            Bringing food to hungry widows hardly seems like a job that would get someone killed. Surely the twelve apostles had a far more dangerous job – they were preaching the Word of God, the good news of Jesus Christ, into a world and culture that rejected this message. Their preaching was an affront to the government, offensive to the powers that be, and often placed them in very scary, vulnerable positions. Christian preaching was a high-risk job in those days! But apparently not as risky as the job that Stephen would take on.

            How did Stephen end up with such a dangerous job? Well, the fledgling Christian Church was outgrowing its structures – a good problem to have, right? Though they were dedicated to caring for one another, feeding one another, sharing goods, generally loving one another as Jesus had taught them – as disciples of The Way increased, some of the needy were falling through the cracks; in particular, some of the widows were being overlooked in the daily distribution of food. As problems often do, this presented them with a new ministry opportunity! So the leaders of the new church considered the gifts of their members, and how they could best fill the need presented to them, and came up with a plan: they would start a deacon ministry. Seven were chosen to serve in this new ministry, and their job would be to bring food to the hungry widows. Among them was Stephen, who was described by his friends as “a man full of faith and of the Holy Spirit.” With this new deacon ministry in place, the Twelve would be able to devote themselves to the preaching of the Word and prayer, and the seven deacons would be empowered to carry out the ministry of service. The Twelve did a laying on of hands, and they sent out the deacons.

            Stephen proved to be well-suited to this new ministry, and he jumped in with both feet. To him, waiting on tables was not just a job, not just a duty that filled his days. No, for Stephen, it was a calling – an opportunity for him to share his faith and his wisdom with people who really needed it. To those he served and worked with, he became the light of Christ. He was truly “a man full of God’s grace and power.” Stephen had found his niche – he was loving it!

            It sounds great, doesn’t it? What a beautiful example Stephen was! How great it would be if we all could bring God’s love and light into our workplaces – whether that is waiting on tables like Stephen, or working in an office cubicle, or teaching, or nursing, or even being a stay-at-home parent – what if we could all shed God’s light in our workplaces in the way that we serve one another and share our faith.

But, it wasn’t long before the opposition felt threatened by Stephen’s

wisdom. He was too good. He made the opposition feel uncomfortable, and their discomfort made them feel angry. They looked for ways to bring him down; yet whenever they tried to argue with him, “they could not stand up to his wisdom or the Spirit by whom he spoke.” And so they asserted their power: they seized Stephen, accused him of blasphemy, they “stirred up the people and elders and teachers of the law.” “They produced false witnesses” to make him look bad. Some who watched were caught up in the excitement of it all. Stephen gave an impassioned speech, standing firm in his faith, and people got even more upset. Before long, the crowd was stoning Stephen to death.

Things can escalate quickly when people feel threatened, can’t they? For us, too; when we feel threatened or scared – even if just for a time, we can assuage our own insecurities and fears and focus on taking down the thing or person who made us feel insecure or fearful. Attacking someone else helps us to ignore our own dark spots, our own sins, our own shortcomings, our own mistakes. It helps us avoid the dark truth in our hearts.

            I shared a story a few weeks ago from Brene Brown’s recent book; here’s another one. Brene encountered a woman at a speaking engagement who really bugged her, named Pamela. Pamela was pushy, self-congratulatory, and had nothing but complaints about her boss and the people she worked with. Some weeks later, Pamela wrote to Brene, inviting her to speak at a conference – and included in the email a correction on how Brene had pronounced someone’s name in her talk. It hit one of Brene’s triggers – she was filled with shame over the mistake, and lashed out at Pamela in response. She crafted an email back that would take Pamela down in every possible subversive way, including copying the woman’s boss on the email and mentioning the horrible things Pamela had said about her. Oh, Brene was proud of the email, but did not send it. She asked her therapist about it. Her therapist gently asked her the golden question: “How do you hope this will make her feel?” Brene thought for a moment, then said, “I hope she feels small and ashamed.” Then, in horror, she realized why she wanted that: because that was how Pamela had made her feel. She wanted to take that shame stone Pamela had thrown at her, and hurl it right back, with much greater force.

            So it goes when we feel threatened or ashamed, and so it went with Stephen. Some people felt threatened by Stephen – by his faith, by his eloquent and courageous living and articulating of that faith, by his wisdom. His work made them feel uncomfortable, and their discomfort made them feel angry. And so they cast stones – cast enough stones and with enough vitriol and strength, that they

killed him. And so Stephen became the first martyr, the first to die for the sake of the Christian faith.

            Now, of course, in America we don’t experience stonings like this anymore. But such figurative stonings as what Brene Brown described are all too familiar. They happen in our workplaces, in our homes, even in our churches. So that made me wonder: As we read Stephen’s story today, both the ending we just heard and the story leading up to it, with whom do we identify at any given point in our own story?

Do we identify with the ones casting stones – who lash out against something that makes us feel threatened and uncomfortable and vulnerable, that is against our sensibilities? Would we rather just get rid of the thing that challenges us rather than actually facing it, taking the time to learn about it, maybe even learn from it, and risk it revealing something dark in ourselves?

Do we identify more with Saul? Did you notice he is a part of this story? Saul, of course, will later become Paul, St. Paul, who penned most of the latter half of the New Testament and was instrumental in the spread of Christianity. But at this point, he is still one of the biggest persecutors of the Christian church. He is standing by, watching this happen, holding people’s coats, and nodding his approval. Do we, too, stand by and let evil go on, quietly approving it?

Or what about the other bystanders – the ones who didn’t approve of what was happening to this great man of faith, but said and did nothing? The ones who were merely complicit, letting evil persist, because it was too risky to get involved? Do we ever find ourselves in that place?

Of course, we all find ourselves in every part of this story at some point – but the place where our faith calls us to identify is with Stephen, because Stephen is living out the life to which Christ calls him. He serves God’s people, bringing Christ’s light and life to all he does. In the face of persecution, he holds fast to his faith, never wavering. Even in the moment of his death, he declares the promise of God’s everlasting life, and asks forgiveness for those who persecute him. And in the end, Luke tells us, “He fell asleep” – a euphemism that means he died, but is stated in a way that brings to mind an entry into eternal rest.

“I am the Way,” Jesus tells his disciples in our Gospel lesson today. And sometimes this statement brings us great comfort. Other times, following The Way that is Jesus leads to persecution, pain, and in the case of Stephen and many others, even death. Will we follow that Way? Will we do what is right even when it is risky, even when it upsets people?

Praise be to God for the witness of people like Stephen, and so many other saints and martyrs who have come before us, for they have shown us not only the cost of true and faithful discipleship, but also the great reward: to be, as Jesus says, in and with the Father, in relationship with God, to know the love of God here and now, and finally, to live forever in God’s glory. Thanks be to God!

Let us pray… Faithful God, the path you lay out for us is as challenging as it is full of love and grace. Guide us to be faithful disciples, slow to cast stones and quick to love and forgive. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.