Chapter 7

Stephen is in a right pickle. He’s been picked up and dragged before the Sanhedrin.

Now, part of the problem with getting something new out of the Bible can be that we have read it before and we know what’s going to happen. So I want you to try to put your knowledge of Stephen out of your head for a moment. Rename him or whatever you need to do.

In a church in the Sudan, a man named David has just been promoted to a position of leadership. Within days of his appointment, he’s been taken before the council of his tribal elders and has to plead for his life. And the fact that you wonder if this is a true story demonstrates that in fact what we’re reading about here is still part of life in some areas today.

But how do we pray here?

Of course (and rightly!) we pray for the deliverance of whoever is on trial. We pray that the judges or elders would be kindly disposed towards him, and that he’d have the right words to say to get off and beat the charges.

That’s totally right and proper. But God’s purposes can work in another way – and we see this in Stephen’s life.

Rather than God working His wonders by getting this man free, God’s power is going to be shown in the way he faces death.

It is interesting that, even though we believe death to not be the end for a Christian (in fact, we even believe it to be the gateway to a greater, more complete life!), that we still feel sad for this man. We want him to escape.

More than that, though, in an ideal world, he WOULD escape, work for God all his life and die at a ripe old age[1]. God would love that to be the case. But humans have free will too – and this means that sometimes people will act against God’s wishes (whether consciously or unconsciously) and therefore people will get hurt or killed.

So it is that God, knowing all things and knowing that Stephen’s best hope is to face his fate bravely, helps him not by releasing him (as He has done with the apostles) but by granting him the wisdom he needs to make an incredible defence.

Stephen’s defence doesn’t get him off – his enemies are too angry for that, and this trial is nothing more than a mockery. What it DOES do is to put in very clear, simple and unmistakable words the situation in which the Sanhedrin finds itself.

Stephen goes through the history of Israel (which is presumably known by heart by the majority of the people in the room). And he looks at this history with an eye to a particularly striking theme – that of God’s person who is rejected, and yet is still the chosen one.

He looks at Joseph. He looks at Moses. He looks at the people of Israel themselves. These would all be familiar stories – and then he goes and puts the Sanhedrin’s rejection of Jesus (and therefore their current rejection of himself) in the same category! He’s saying “God’s people are rejected time and time again – and now YOU ARE DOING IT AGAIN!”

It’s not surprising that these guys are upset with what they hear.

In some ways this execution is very different to that of Jesus Himself. Jesus was brought officially to trial and lawfully condemned; Stephen is dragged out of the city by a lynch mob. Jesus is crucified; Stephen is stoned. Jesus is silent before his accusers; Stephen goes on the offensive.

But there are similarities too. Stephen, like Jesus, commits his spirit to God. Also, like Jesus, he forgives his very attackers.

After all this, though, his battered body lies there abandoned, until the Christians sadly retrieve it, and take it to bury it. Despite the bravery of Stephen’s death, it would appear to be an empty death, one with no victory in it. Yes, Stephen is now at the right hand of his Lord and Master; but his family and friends left behind are gutted.

God can do all things, though. Something great has happened, and only one person is aware of it.

It’s a young Pharisee named Saul[2]. He’s watched the execution, even holding the coats for members of the lynch mob. That’s right, he’s on their side.

At this point, Saul would sooner eat pork than side with the Christians. But this incident awakes a passion in this man. And as we shall see, this man’s passion will ultimately bring him to a crossroads – and after that, neither he nor the Church will ever be the same again.

Stephen’s death will ultimately have tremendous results for the Church he loved and died to protect.

God can do all kinds of amazing things. And sometimes He is bringing about victory when defeat seems all but certain. Even death is no barrier to Him.

We see here how the death of a martyr leads to the awakening of someone who will one day be a great hero of faith. And similarly when all seems lost, sometimes it is then that God is about to start his great work.

I can see this in my own life. Looking back, I used to be a brash, bold young minister. One who had all the answers, who knew no fear.

I was also an arrogant snot with a belief that I was always right.

Since this is going out fairly publically, it’s best that I don’t go into too much detail; but I then faced what seemed to be my first failure in ministry. I failed in such a way that it was utterly impossible to continue. I learned what it was like to do everything I could correctly – and STILL lose. I literally couldn’t win.

I was in tatters. Yet God took those tatters, and from them He is creating – notice the process word, “is creating” – something great. It’s been about nine years now, and whilst we’re far from the end as yet, I can already see that what God is building in my life is greater by far than what was demolished. I can see what seemed like my death as a preacher of God’s word leading ultimately to His glory.

I don’t say that it’s been fun getting here; but from where I stand now I can say that God is faithful and just, and that He has always loved me. He believes in me too, and continued to do so in those times when I wasn’t sure I believed in myself (or in Him) anymore.

Tonight, just before I started work on this commentary, I watched a program on the regeneration of the Australian bush after the Black Saturday fires. That’s a great metaphor for what has happened in my life, and it’s an even better metaphor for what is about to happen to the young Church.

Sadly, the reason it’s such a great metaphor is because of the destruction followed by massive growth – and the destruction is only starting. We’ll pick up on this again in future chapters.

[1] In fact, in a perfect world, sin wouldn’t have entered, so there would BE no death. But let’s move along before our hypothetical glands explode.

[2] Technically Saul isn't mentioned in this chapter. He actually turns up at the beginning of the next chapter. But you remember what I said in Numbers about the Camel theory of the origins of chapter divisions? Here's another one. The chapter division SHOULD have gone after Acts 8:1. :)