Acts 7:55-60; Psalm 31:1-5,15-16 1 Peter 2:2-10; John 14:1-14
The Rev. Candice B. Frazer
Stephen Is not one of the original disciples. He seems to have converted after Jesus’ ascension. He knows the Jewish story well and when challenged by the religious authority, retells the story of the Patriarchs pointing out the failings of man while highlighting the redemption of God. He starts with Abraham and the promise of hope given to him by God in the covenant. He talks of Isaac and Jacob. And then he tells the story of Joseph reminding the religious counsel that the betrayal of Joseph by his brothers was an act in which man meant for evil but God meant for good as Joseph became the savior of his brothers and family. He continues the story making the leap to Moses and a different Egypt in which the Hebrew people faced persecution and again, what man meant for evil, God meant for good as he empowered Moses to save his people and bring them to the land of promise. He talks of Joshua and David and Solomon. Finally, he calls them out for their opposition of the Holy Spirit—a stiff necked people, uncircumcised in heart and ears—persecuting prophets and betraying the Righteous One.
These word enrage those who are listening, but it is not until Stephen becomes filled with the Holy Spirit and has a vision of God and Jesus standing at God’s right hand that the crowd turns violent. That is where we drop into the story today. Stephen’s words and actions have cause anger and dissent to those who witnessed them; but it is his vision of God that flips the switch—that is too much for them. That is what causes them to rush him, drag him out of the city, and stone him to death. This vision of God has spurred the people to violence, and yet the one who possesses the vision, Stephen, is at peace. He prays for the Lord to receive his spirit and then he prays for those who are stoning him. A prayer wrapped up not in their actions but in their rejection of God and of Stephen as God’s messenger. It is not what Stephen does that gets him killed; it is his belief. And it is not what the enraged crowd does that is the sin; it is their rejection of belief—their inability to accept that God has been doing a new thing through Jesus, through the disciples, even through Stephen.
That’s the hard thing about a life grounded in God: We honor the past—the traditions we have held dear—even as we look to the future—to the new things God is always doing. That is challenging because it does not line up with what the world tells us; what our culture of prosperity and accomplishment seed in us. We are taught to believe that to be a success, we must make straight A’s on our report cards, get the big promotion at work, build something that will immortalize us—that our worth is tied to our achievements and those achievements are enough.
The truth is, we know those achievements are never enough. If they satisfy us in the moment, the feeling doesn’t last. Our hunger to be more, to do more is never satiated for long. In the Gospel reading, Philip thinks that if he sees the Father, he will be satisfied, but he won’t. Jesus knows this. He points out the fact that Philip has been seeing the Father through the presence of the Son—Jesus amongst them—for all this time and yet, Philip still does not know him. Philip yearns for some one-and-done action or accomplishment that will bring all of his longings and hopes to fruition; but Jesus knows that even if Philip were to see Jesus and understand he was seeing God, he would not be satisfied for long. Not because seeing God won’t be fulfilling, but because the grand design is not created to ever become static; creation is always about becoming. One need only look outside and see the green shoots of new life pushing up from under the ground or hear the buzz of bees as they return to the tasks of pollinating plants or watch the hummingbirds as they make their annual trek northward. Creation, life, continues to move forward—it is consistent, but it is not static.
We’ve gotten the false sense of belief that life is about satiating our appetites or accomplishing something concrete that makes our lives meaningful and worthwhile—that is the talk of prosperity gospel, not the Good News that Jesus offered. The ultimate goal for Jesus was to lose everything in order to gain all. He didn’t die with the most toys or build some great stock portfolio; his focus was not on developing property but on nurturing people; his job description wasn’t mergers and acquisitions to grow a financial empire, instead he went about the work of partnering with us to build up the kingdom of God. His death, resurrection, and ascension didn’t define the completion of that kingdom; it gave us the tools of hope and courage to continue that work.
Filled with the Holy Spirit, Stephen gazes into heaven and sees God and Jesus—it is a Trinitarian moment. The power of that moment is not simply that this man might have such a vision, it is the reminder that God remains present among us; alive and well and partnering with us to continue the work of resurrection and renewal in the building up of the kingdom.
We still get to do that work. This past year we partnered together with God and one another to raise over $2 million to support capital improvements to our campus. As we discerned our call to resurrection and renewal at Ascension, we began to see three aspects of life that we believed Jesus was inviting us too: the way, the truth, and the life. Though I don’t think anyone had a heavenly vision, I do think this period of discernment and work has been filled with the Holy Spirit. Ascension Day School inspired us as the opportunity for our little ones to travel “the way” as we work to form a foundation of love and relationship with children and families that continues to grow with boundless energy. We hear “the truth” in the music and song of our choir each week as we worship. While Joshua House has existed along the periphery of our campus, it connects us to “the life” of our community through our outreach interests including our feeding ministries, Scouts, AA, and hospitality ministries. The way, the truth, and the life has been our call to partner with God and one another in building up the kingdom. It is also understood as a path to knowing God.
Thomas verbalizes that ultimate concern we all possess—how can we know the way to heaven? Jesus responds not in a futuristic tense but in the present—he is the way, the truth, the life. If we live the way Jesus lives then we don’t have to worry about finding our way to the kingdom—we will already be a part of it.
What Stephen dies for and Philip struggles with is that the way, the truth, and the life is not defined by our acquisitions or accomplishments. It is defined by our continual growth. What we do as individuals or as a church can never be static—because the very nature of God is always broadening, reaching out and enveloping us more and more. Our faithful response is to release our resistance to change and allow ourselves to accept that maybe there is more to a life in Christ than satiating our own desires—whatever those might be. Our capital project—the way, the truth, and the life—is about renewal and relationships because it is focused on growth and not grounded in achievement. We will make these improvements to our campus in order to continue the work of building up the kingdom. These improvements will be invitations into greater witness and ministry for God.
The story from The Acts of the Apostles that we read today might end with Stephen’s death—but that is just a beginning. Stephen’s death will set off a chain reaction in which many of the newly faithful will flee from Jerusalem as Saul increases the persecutions of these followers of The Way. That diaspora—when the believers disperse into areas near and far—will serve to spread the gospel throughout Africa, Europe, Asia and eventually all the world. Stephen’s death is not the accomplishment, it is the flame that grows and continues to grow. That is our true work as Jesus followers—spreading the Good News and living into a life focused on growing God not satiating our own desires. It is the work of a lifetime. We will never “accomplish” or “complete” this work because this work is relational, it is creative, it is always growing and thus never finite. We are asked to walk a path that is loyal to our future even as we hold our past.