Monday, May 5, 2025

Sermon: "Eyes on the Prize", Acts 6:8-7:2a; 7:44-60 (May 4, 2025)


Let’s be honest – this is a pretty disturbing story. Up until this point, Acts has largely been a celebration of the Holy Spirit’s movement among the people, giving us joyful tales of miraculous healings, communal living, and exponential growth. Sure, the disciples were harassed here and there, but they always seemed to come out okay in the end. This, though – this is dark. There’s no “happy ending” for Stephen, even though he’s consistently described as righteous. Amid all the recorded successes of the early Christian movement, this story is a bleak reminder of the sinful reality of the human condition.

There’s certainly plenty of opportunity to see ourselves reflected in those who opposed Stephen. We can always use another reminder that religious innovation is not blasphemy and that we should never cling to established norms at the cost of the gospel. But I think that for the time in which we find ourselves, it’s more helpful for us to focus on Stephen. We may not face stoning, but the accusations of being “anti-Christian” and the fear of property damage or even worse are very real. How do we continue to preach the gospel of extravagant welcome and unconditional love for all, without apology or compromise, when the consequences of doing so are increasingly dire?

The easy answer, of course, is to remember that we’re a resurrection people. God can bring a new beginning out of any ending, new life out of even death. But here’s the thing: we all know that believing something in theory and acting on that belief in the face of serious consequences are two very different things. God’s power over death doesn’t mean that death no longer exists. Easter morning didn’t undo the terrible events of Good Friday. It’s little wonder that so many of us choose passivity and partial action instead of putting our whole selves on the line in Christ’s name – even with the promise of resurrection waiting on the other side.

Yet people risk consequences up to and including death for the sake of the gospel every single day. Stephen’s martyrdom was merely the first of millions. We can’t justify our own inaction by blaming our self-preservation instinct – it’s certainly not EASY to overcome, but it’s clearly POSSIBLE. So if we truly believe that God’s kindom is worth pursuing (and we should) then we need to put our money where our mouths are. We need to look to people like Stephen to learn where we can find the strength to make such enormous, selfless sacrifices for the gospel.

According to verse 55 of today’s reading, Stephen’s strength in this instance seems to come from a vision: in response to the crowd’s threatening gestures, “[He] stared into heaven and saw God’s majesty and Jesus standing at God’s right side.” So does that mean that the answer is for us to cross our fingers and hope for a timely hallucination to inspire us? Well no, not quite. The verbs in the original Greek might be better translated as, “Having stared into heaven (i.e., at some point in the past), Stephen (in that moment) saw God’s majesty and Jesus standing at God’s right side.” In other words, Stephen saw this vision because he had ALREADY been looking in that direction, grounding himself in what inspired him long before the crowd became threatening. And so, when the moment arrived for him to make that impossible choice – to stand firm or to flee – he was prepared to face death without fear. He found the courage he needed because he’d been keeping his “eyes on the prize” the whole time.

Even though most of us won’t ever face physical death for our beliefs, faithful witness still requires extraordinary courage – and Stephen’s strategy still works to provide it. This past Monday, three men of faith were arrested in the Capitol Rotunda. They were there to protest the cuts to social safety-net programs in Congress’ proposed budget bill, which they saw as directly opposed to their religious values. While their physical lives were (presumably) never at risk, they certainly had to make serious sacrifices to be there: one of the men, Rev. William Barber, suffers from ankylosing spondylitis, a painful chronic disease that affects the spine, making it painful for him to move or stand for any length of time. (As someone who also suffers from chronic pain, I can assure you that this is a big deal.)

Yet there he stood, even after having delivered a sermon on the Capitol steps and an address at the Supreme Court earlier that same day.[1] And all three of the men knew that there would be consequences – official, irrevocable consequences – for their actions. Which, of course, proved true when they were arrested. Regardless of how you personally feel about their actions, you have to admit that most of us wouldn’t be willing to make the same sacrifices in the name of our faith.

But these men weren’t JUST protesting. If they had been, perhaps their resolve would have faltered after such a long, exhausting day. Instead, they kept their eyes on the prize by grounding their protest in prayer. Every single word they spoke in the Rotunda that day was directed towards God. This approach served to reminded them they weren’t just standing up AGAINST something that they believed to be morally wrong, they were standing up FOR the kindom of God in which they’d put their faith; THAT was what fueled them and gave them courage. “Just as Jesus turned over the tables of the money changers,” Barber explained, “so we have to be willing to put our bodies on the line.”[2] [A week later, another five faith leaders were arrested for the exact same thing. Of their arrest, one of them, Shane Claiborne, said, “Our goal is to pray, and to amplify the voices of the vulnerable and…those who are suffering…so that hearts – and budgets – change. That’s why we can smile in our mugshots when we got to jail – because we know we are on the right side of history.”[3] Keeping his eyes on the prize works for him, too.]

Martyrdom today generally doesn’t look the same today as it did for Stephen, but we’re all confronted by lesser “deaths” in our own pursuit of righteousness – sacrifices that seem just too big for us to make. The three men in the Rotunda experienced a sort of death in the loss of their freedom in Christ’s name, and for others working towards God’s justice, it’s their trust in the systems that govern our common life which has died. When this congregation split over ten years ago, those of you who were here suffered the death of many close relationships for the sake of the Gospel. Countless other congregations that have taken that same stand have faced the death of their entire church community.

No one would choose any of this for themselves – but if we believe in the gospel of love and justice and, yes, resurrection, then we have to figure out how choose it. We have to find the strength to do what God is calling us to do – no matter the cost. Stephen was the first to do this – the first Christian martyr. Are we willing to be martyrs, too? Are we willing to face these kinds of deaths – and more – for the sake of the Gospel? Are we willing to give up the things that protect us, the things that are the most precious to us, the things that are foundational to our identity, to show that when we pray, “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done,” we really mean it?

If we are, if we truly believe in God’s power to bring new life, then we have to keep our eyes on the prize. We have to remember why it matters so that we don’t falter when faced with consequences that seem to be more than we’re able to bear. Maybe your courage comes from a prayer practice or Bible study. Maybe you repeat a mantra to keep you centered. Maybe you find inspiration in a support system of like-minded people unafraid to talk about living their faith in public. Maybe you just make a point to notice all the little moments of resurrection that surround you every day. Whatever it is that gives you strength, hold fast to it. Don’t let it fall by the wayside when you become discouraged or busy. It may be the one thing that keeps you standing tall when it would be easier to crumble under the pressure.

In the end, Stephen’s story is actually one of hope. Although his physical resurrection may still be yet to come, death has not had the final word – not only has his story lasted two thousand years, but his name has become synonymous with the Church’s responsibility to care for the vulnerable. He may have died in body, but his legacy – and the message that he bore – is very much alive. That sounds like a success to me.

Stephen recognized that death is real. Hatred and violence and oppression are real. Jesus’ resurrection did not wipe them out from the world, and pretending that it did is naïve and unhelpful. But God is more powerful than all of the death and hatred and violence and oppression that humankind can conjure up. God has already accomplished the impossible: life ALWAYS springs up from the ashes that surround us. OUR task is easy in comparison: remember what we’re working towards and keep our eyes on the prize. If Stephen can do it in the face of death, so can we. Thanks be to God. Amen.

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[1] https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/americas/us-politics/william-barber-trump-christian-task-force-b2741146.html

[2] https://religionnews.com/2025/04/28/william-barber-arrested-in-capitol-rotunda-after-prayer-challenging-republican-budget/

(Video: https://www.facebook.com/watch/?v=1404160800617566)

[3] https://www.facebook.com/ShaneClaiborne/posts/1238853434274039

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