EASTER
5-A, April 24, 2005
I
don't know about you, but I love Peter’s analogy in the Second
Lesson: “like living stones, let yourselves be built into a
spiritual house.” Houses are built one stone at a time. Even
manufactured homes are build one piece at a time. As with houses,
so with us: there is no such thing as an instant adult or even an
instant Christian. We become who we are to become one step at a
time, one stone at a time. My suspicion is that we are always a
building under construction. There is never a time, will never be
a time, when all the stones are in place, when we have it
altogether, as they say.
All
analogies limp, as my English professor used to say. They never
explain the whole picture. Such is the case with stones. Living
stones, in Peter’s analogy, should be a contradiction in terms.
A stone is not a living organism as far as I can tell. It may even
be more of a dying organism as it wears and erodes away in the
course of time. So much for analogies: they can take us only so
far and then we must get on to reality.
The
reality is that no matter what words, what analogies, what
descriptions we use to describe our responsibilities as
Christians, what is important is that we live out those
responsibilities. We can always make excuses by demanding more
information, asserting that we need a clearer picture in our minds
what is being asked of us. Delaying tactics are always tempting,
especially when we truly know what we are supposed to be doing but
would prefer not to do it, at least not right at the moment.
Back
to Peter’s analogy: the longer we take it setting those stones
in place, the longer it will take to get the house built. But that
is the wrong vision, isn't it? We are not the ones who are setting
the stones in place; God is. We are to let ourselves be built into
a spiritual house. We are to allow God to use us to do God’s
will. We can refuse, of course. And we often do. And when we do,
God’s work of building is delayed. God will not do with us what
we do not want God to do.
But
if we allow God to use us to build up the church, and if we
continue to grow one step at a time, one day at a time, imagine
what can be built! We have to work with God, cooperate with God.
We have to do our part and God will do God’s. That is really all
that God asks of us.
All
of which brings me to Stephen, the church’s first martyr. We do
not know very much about this man, this saint. We do know he was
one of the seven men the Apostles chose to become the first
deacons in the aspiring community. He had to have been someone
special to have received this calling. And, as the events in his
life played out, he certainly proved to be not only someone very
special but also very worthy of such a calling
What
it was that set Stephen apart in the first place, we do not know,
other than he and the other six were full of wisdom and the Spirit
– the only two requirements demanded by the Apostles of these
men. Stephen was so full of God’s Spirit that he even worked
miraculous deeds – which certainly attracted the attention of
those in authority among the Jews and the Romans. Like Jesus
before him, it was dangerous business to work miracles because
miracle working attracted the attention of too many people.
Stephen,
because of all the attention he was getting, like Jesus before
him, became a threat to the authorities. And Stephen, like Jesus,
was eventually put on trial because of his good works. They tried
to find fault with him. And when they could not and did not, they
simply decided he was a blasphemer who should be put to death,
just as their predecessors did with Jesus. And that they did. They
killed him by stoning him to death. Talk about using stones for
all the wrong reasons! Today’s short reading recounts
Stephen’s dying words of forgiveness. Like Jesus, even in death
Stephen could find a way to forgive those who were unjustly
putting him to death.
Both
Jesus and Stephen are reminders that doing what we are called to
do can get us in trouble with others. Goodness, like evil, always
attracts attention. Granted, evil deeds gather all the headlines.
Stories of people doing good rarely do unless it is the season –
or the day – to report on such good deeds, days like Christmas
and Thanksgiving. But the truth is we upset more people by our
good deeds than we do by our evil deeds. That seems strange, even
wrong, but I think it is true.
Why?
A doer of good, like Stephen, is a living, walking, waking
reminder to everyone of the truth, which is what all of us are
called to be and to do. The good deeds of others stand in
contrast, often stark contrast, to the sinful deeds we do. Because
no one likes to be reminded of his or her failings, especially by
the actions of another human being, we often persecute those
living reminders. Stephen spoke the truth and was persecuted for
it by those who did not want to hear the truth.
The
truth, of course, comes in many forms. We can speak the truth. We
can live the truth. We can die for the truth. In Stephen’s case,
the truth came in all three forms. He spoke the truth and was put
to death for speaking the truth. But his death did not silence the
truth. In fact, not too long after this event, the one who
consented to the silencing of Stephen for speaking the truth
himself began to boldly speak that same truth.
Perhaps
that is the sole reason for Luke’s accounting of the witnessing
and death of Stephen at the hands of Paul and his army of
persecutors. Perhaps Luke recounts this story as the background
for Paul’s conversion. Perhaps. Paul heard Stephen speak the
truth about the history of the Jewish people, Paul’s people.
Paul did not interrupt Stephen in his long monologue to contest
anything Stephen said, as Paul was never hesitant to do, it seems,
anywhere or anytime else.
Paul
also recognized the fact that Stephen fully lived what he believed
to be the truth, fully lived out his faith in Jesus. He was not
afraid to stand up and defend that faith nor did he try to
compromise that faith in order to save his own skin. And in the
end Stephen willingly and lovingly died for that faith. Paul’s
hatred of Stephen and his anger, even rage, over Stephen’s
message may have clouded his thinking at that moment. But
Stephen’s witness to the truth was not lost on him. In fact, it
is safe to say that Stephen’s witness was the first step on the
road to Paul’s conversion.
Stephen
did not live to see the results of his witness. That was not
Stephen’s role. He was to witness to the truth in word and in
deed unto his death. Such is our role as well. When we fulfill it,
as we live it out, we give witness to others about our faith. No
one of us will ever know how many people we have influenced along
the way simply by living the truth, by living out the truths of
our faith. That does not matter. What matters is that we witness
to the truth by our very lives.
We
are not always as faithful as we can be, certainly as we should
be. We are not always good, living reminders of the faith we
profess. Instead of being that stone others trip over in order to
recognize their failing and shortcomings, our failure to live out
our faith becomes a stumbling block for them. When we are, we need
to acknowledge our failures, ask forgiveness, especially from
those who have hurt by our not witnessing to the truth, and begin
again. We will never be perfect. But we cannot allow the frequent
failures deter us from staying the course. Stephen’s witness to
Paul is incalculable. It changed the world. Nothing we may ever do
when we live and speak God’s truth, when we are those living
stones Peter talks about, will change the world, but it will
change someone for the better. That change, too, is incalculable.