Acts 7:55-60
John 14:1-14
How do we talk about martyrs in the United States in the 21st century? Is this a concept we in this congregation can identify with? What are the odds that any of us are ever going to encounter a situation in which martyrdom is even a possibility, where our faith could get us killed?
The idea of martyrs is so foreign in this society that we make light of it, usually in a sarcastic way. We talk about people with martyr complexes. People who enjoy playing the victim. People who take on more of the workload or life’s burdens than they should, and then complain about it, or take on some form of suffering so they can play the victim. I know someone who nominates people who are especially obnoxious in this behavior for what he calls The Flaming Martyr Award.
When we do hear stories of real-life martyrs, they come from outside our world. Pictures in the Viet Nam war era of real flaming martyrs: Buddhist monks who set themselves on fire to protest government policies. We see reports about the thousands of people in the Sudan who are killed for no other reason than that they are Christian. Our most common encounter with martyrs is in the Middle East, where fanatics strap explosives to their belts and blow themselves for the sake of a cause, and are hailed as martyrs by their supporters
How do we relate to that when we live in a country where you can believe in anything you want, from the sublime to the ridiculous, without being bothered by anyone, provided you don’t infringe upon someone else’s rights? What does the Stoning of Stephen from our reading in Acts have to do with anyone in this room?
Let’s open up the Scriptures and take a look. The events in this story took place shortly after the death and resurrection of Jesus. We don’t know much about Stephen, certainly not enough to try and psychoanalyze his behavior from across the centuries.
All we know comes from two chapters of Acts that say he was one of the most highly respected of the early Christians living in Jerusalem. He was one of seven men chosen to oversee the distribution of food in the community; a man of “good standing, full of the Spirit and of wisdom.” He was “full of grace and power and did great wonders and signs among the people.”
Tragedy began when he got into a debate with a group of people who preferred that Old Time Religion. From the partisan perspective of the writer of Acts, Stephen mopped the floor with them in the debate. Their pride hurt, the losers struck back by spreading rumors and lies about Stephen--that he was mocking the Temple, the Torah, and Moses.
In a scene reminiscent of Jesus’ Holy Week ordeal, Stephen was then hauled before the high priest and the council to answer the charges. Unlike Jesus, he took the opportunity to give a lengthy speech about his faith in which he reviewed Hebrew history and pointed out some failures of the community. He used some rather strong language in describing their rejection of Jesus.
This enraged the council.
Stephen then reported a vision of the heavens opening up and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God.
At this, the council rushed Stephen and dragged him out of the city and began to stone him.
This sounds like a lynching or a mob action, but it wasn’t. Having judged Stephen guilty of defiling God’s name, they were only carrying out the punishment that the law required for such actions. Namely, take the criminal out of the city, find a cliff, push him off, and finish him off with some well-aimed rocks.
Stephen’s last words sound very much like some of Jesus’ last words from the cross. “Lord, receive my spirit,” he says. And “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.”
The question is, what are we to gain from this passage?
We need to be careful. I can see two ways in which this passage can get us into trouble. One is that Christians like to misuse it to feed our “us-against-the-world” martyr complex. It puts us into victim mode so we can create enemies where there are none.
I’ve been inundated all week with e-mails about the opening of a movie called Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed. According to the promoters it, “exposes a modern day witch hunt in which scientists, educators, and students are being persecuted because they dare to question Darwinism.” All Christians are called to rally to the cause.
I did some research on this movie that shows it to be a ridiculous fraud, worthy of the Flaming Martyr Award. Feeding the Christian martyr complex is good for the box office, but it cheapens and dishonors the true martyrs of the world.
The second way we get into trouble with this story is to present Stephen as the example for us to follow. Now Stephen is certainly admirable, for many reasons. We can learn much from his example. But look at the trouble that arises when you carry the role model thing too far.
Many early Christians who took Stephen as their Christian role model went out seeking death. They believed that the greatest achievement in life was to copy Jesus and Stephen and die like them.
They went out of their way to provoke Roman authorities so that they could die as martyrs. There are accounts of early Christians in Rome eagerly looking forward to feeling the crunch of their bones in the lions’ jaws. The Romans thought these Christians were either crazy or barbaric: a menace to society and to themselves, and it’s hard to argue with them.
Are the truest followers of God those who eagerly welcome death in his service?
That very attitude is responsible for most of the terrorism in the world today. If you believe that God values your life on earth so little that he loves it when you sacrifice your life for him, what are the logical consequences? If God doesn’t value your life, he doesn’t value anyone’s life. So you kill 10, 20, a thousand people in the service of God and it’s not only okay, it’s a great thing. This kind of thinking leads people to believe that the highest honors in heaven are reserved for suicide bombers who die fighting in the service of their Lord.
Jesus died on a cross for us, not because it was such a wonderful thing that we should all experience. Read about the Garden of Gethsemane—he didn’t want to die. He did not die so that we might follow his example and die a terrible death, too. He died so that we might live. To usher in the Kingdom of God, in which there is no need for anyone to be martyred.
Using Stephen as a blueprint for how Christians should act can lead to a culture of death. It says that Jesus came to show us how to do things that lead to death and destruction. That being a Christian means you look forward to death and that this world doesn’t mean anything.
Now there’s a powerful message to proclaim to all the unchurched:
Join us so that you, too, can have contempt for God’s gift of creation. And look forward to getting rid of it as fast as you can.
We sometimes inadvertently encourage that attitude by our use of today’s John passage at funerals. In bringing comfort to the bereaved, we emphasize the hope of the future, of the many rooms that Jesus has prepared for us in the next life. We talk about how the person is in a better place.
And that all is true. Except we have to be careful when we do that not to cheapen life here on earth. This is not just a practice world, a testing ground to see if we deserve heaven. This is the world the God painstakingly created, just for us. As a gift. We don’t honor God by sneering at the gift; by saying that this world means nothing.
Stephen did not ask for death. Just because he forgave his enemies doesn’t mean he was okay with what they were doing to him. Just because he had the hope of the resurrection does not mean he did not value the life that he was about to lose.
In Acts, you don’t see the rest of the Christian community eagerly welcoming death. Look what happened in the very next chapter, when the persecution came. They scattered throughout the countryside of Judea and Samaria. They didn’t go looking for death. They got out of Dodge so they could live; and nowhere in Acts are they criticized for doing that. Immediately after getting out of harm’s way, Philip accomplishes wonderful things in spreading the gospel.
There are two issues at work in the issue of martyrdom. One of them is a secular issue, the issue of freedom of speech and of religion. Yes, Christians are dying in the world today because of their faith. Muslims are dying today because of their faith. People of many faiths are dying today because of their beliefs. In the course of history, Christians have been at least as guilty as anyone else of killing people for their faith.
It is the task of government to end that, to protect the rights of all people to worship as God has inspired them. As Christians, we speak that truth to our political leaders. Our motive for advocating freedom of speech and religion stems from Christ’s command to love our neighbor as ourselves, and from Christ’s declaration that the command to love trumps law every time.
The second issue is a personal, religious issue, and it’s one that Americans seldom come to grips with: There are worse things than death. If life in this world costs us our relationship with God, it isn’t worth it. Faith, integrity, and hope are things we dare not lose, at any cost. Even at the cost of our lives.
I don’t know that I’ve ever heard the dilemma of martyrdom expressed better than in this letter by Civil War soldier, Sullivan Ballou. Listen to his letter from Ken Burns’ Civil War documentary.
Sullivan Ballou understood the nature of martyrdom. He recognized that there are worse things than death. But not many.
I would ask Christians in this country today not to cheapen the genuine sacrifices made by people such as Stephen and by Sullivan Ballou. Do not claim to be victims, where the offense is slight or imagined.
Remember that martyrdom is not the goal. It’s not the model to which we aspire. What sort of risks we are called to take for the faith is not set in stone, nor are the consequences always of our own choosing.
But at the same time, remember that there are worse things than death. Those whose lives are centered in Christ may be called to sacrifice for the common good in order to preserve the more valuable gifts of faith, integrity, and hope.
That is not something we seek or even welcome. As T.S. Eliot wrote, Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. That is how to honor the gift of life God has given you. Then, when you have honored that gift the best you know how, let go. Let go and know, as Stephen knew, as that civil war soldier knew, that God will catch you and take it from there.