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| The Stoning of St. Stephen (Mariotto Di Nardo 15th Cnet) |
There’s
a pretty nasty story in the First Lesson from the Revised Common Lectionary for
Easter 5, Year A (Acts 7:55-60). It involves the first Christian to die for the
faith, a deacon named Stephen. Stephen gets stoned, and not in a good way. It
was something of a custom among the high religious muckety-mucks of the time to
throw heavy rocks at anyone they thought was a blasphemer until said alleged blasphemer
died from a cracked skull or other related injury. This was certainly an
unpleasant business, but so was crucifixion. First century folks seem to have
been remarkably inventive when it came to ways of killing people they didn’t like.
To
understand Stephen’s death, you need to know a little back story. Above is a
quote from the First Lesson from Easter 4 (last week’s First Lesson) in the
RCL. It describes a nascent form of socialism practiced by the early
Christians. Then as now, this economic arrangement was pretty radical. I guess
all societies liked to divide their populations into “haves” and “have nots.”
In the world of the Bible text, it was generally believed that you were a “have”
because God liked you better than God liked the “have nots.” If you were
righteous, God would bless you. If your life sucked, it was because you must’ve
gotten on God’s naughty list somehow and you deserved the suckiness that was
your lot.
But
then came Jesus and the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. Suddenly there were
folks who wanted to love others as Jesus had loved them—without distinction of
person. No more “them” and “us.” Only “us.” The early church, on fire with God’s
Spirit, offered more than just a compelling message. They offered the
charitable and generous spirit to back it up. The “haves” shared with the “have
nots,” and they all had fellowship together. They sat down at table with one
another and ate with glad and “simple” or “humble” hearts.[i] It’s not hard to see how a
community that was generous, humble, grateful, friendly, and non-judgmental could
be attractive to others. This sort of makes you wish every church was full of
folks like this, doesn’t it?
Unfortunately,
every family has problems. As egalitarian as our early Christian ancestors were,
a little favoritism started to sneak in. The gentile widows and orphans felt
they weren’t getting the same charitable treatment the Jewish widows and orphans
were getting. The Apostles decided to handle this in a remarkably democratic
way by having the whole congregation of believers elect a committee of seven
men to oversee food distribution. The requirements for the Board of Deacons were
the men chosen had to be in good standing with the community, they had to be
wise, and full of the Holy Spirit. Stephen was among the seven chosen for this
job, and, apparently, he was pretty good at it. The Bible suggests he might’ve
even had the gift of healing. He was also a really good apologist for the faith
and was able to debate eloquently with those outside the Christian community.[ii]
Now
just imagine if you were a scribe or Pharisee or some other religious bigshot.
You see the Christians growing in number and you might be getting your boxers
bunched up. What if people stopped listening to you? What if they
stopped donating to the temple and started giving to the poor instead? What if
there stopped being a visible class distinction between the righteous and the
sinners? It’s just no fun being a “have” if there aren’t “have nots” to look down
on, is it? And this Stephen guy makes a really good argument for being a
Christian. So, what do you do? You trump up some false charges of blasphemy
against him and have him stoned to death.
What
I see in this story is not what the religious authorities did, but what they
were unable to do. Stephen went to his death praising God. The earthly
authorities could take his life, but they could not take away his faith. Like
Jesus[iii], Stephen chose to
forgive those who persecuted him. They could make him die, but they could not
make him hate.
In
our Gospel Lesson for Easter 5, Thomas tells Jesus he doesn’t know the way
Jesus is going. Jesus tells him, “I am the way.” Philip asks for a vison of the
Father. Jesus tells him, “I am in the Father, and the father is in me.” No
mystical experience is necessary. Anyone who knows the way of Jesus—the way of
gentleness, generosity, humility, forgiveness, gratitude, compassion, and love—is
a “have” with something no amount of pain, disappointment, poverty, persecution,
or illness can take away.
Saint
Peter (or, more likely, a disciple writing to the church in Rome after Peter’s
death) sums it all up in the Second lesson for easter 5:
But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a
holy nation, God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim the excellence of
him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. (1 Peter 2:9)
Have
a good week, my friend.
[i]
The Greek word our lectionary translates as “generous” is apheloteti. I
don’t know why the NRSV translates it as “generous” as “simple” and “humble”
are the definitions I find in my dictionary. The KJV used the term “singleness
of heart.” Of course, if you take it in context, the early Christians were
certainly generous in the way they shared what they had.
[ii]
See Acts 6:8-10.
[iii]
See Luke 23:34.
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