Stephen: The First Martyr

Stephen: The First Martyr

by Dave Mishur

(This article is adapted from my new book, The Big Tent, which will be published next month. In it, the same observer who wrote The Jesus Diary follows the apostles as they obey Jesus' command to preach the Gospel to all nations.)

"I'm tired," Peter said, yawning.

As the number of believers continued to grow, the apostles were overwhelmed. The needs of a growing Christian community were a source of frequent headache and frustration for them.

Peter called the body of believers together to address the issue. He explained the difficulties the apostles were having, but added that the real problem was that widows and orphans were not receiving the care they deserved.

"We need help," he pleaded. "We can't keep with up all the needs of our people. We have to add to our team."

There were nods of understanding in the crowd listening to his appeal. It was obvious that he and the rest of the apostles were working long hours, possibly even to the detriment of their health.

"After careful discussion," he continued, "We have chosen a number of highly respected men who will take on some of our responsibilities. They will be called deacons."

I knew that was the Greek word for servant. It was a good title because it exactly indicated that serving the believers was the main responsibility for these new members of the team. I was excited to hear that some new faces were to become involved and was hopeful that I might be one of these deacons. I was convinced I would be a good one.

Peter explained they would see to such tasks as almsgiving and tending to the older and widowed members of the group, so the apostles themselves could concentrate on spreading the good news of Jesus."

That sounded like a job I could handle.

But my heart sank as Peter read the names of those chosen and mine was not included. Seven men were selected. I had met a few of them, and was especially impressed with a remarkable young man named Stephen.

As the days and weeks went by, the deacons began their work. Things went smoothly, and Peter and the other apostles began to recover some of their energy and enthusiasm. As I had expected, Stephen stood out. He was particularly successful and possessed a delightful combination of miraculous powers and a warm charismatic personality. He was beloved among the people he served.

But, as is often the case with truly successful young people, jealousy raises its ugly head among those who are less gifted, less successful and dedicated more to criticism than to positive action. A gang of troublemakers from a local synagogue as well as some out-of-town rabble rousers began to nitpick Stephen's activities and style.

Sure enough, before long they had stirred up enough animosity among the people and elders to have him dragged before the Sanhedrin, hoping to have him silenced. I heard about his arrest and squeezed myself into the overcrowded chamber so I could follow the proceedings. I did not like what I heard:

"This man never stops preaching about a so-called redeemer who he says raised himself from the dead!"

"He said this Jesus of Nazareth could destroy our temple. He wants to enact new laws and new ways of life that are contrary to the laws of Moses!"

Stephen just stood there.

"What about this?" the high priest asked. "Is this true? Why are you proclaiming these things?"

Stephen proceeded to relate the entire history of the Jewish people and the Law, beginning with Abraham. He was precise and thorough, relating the story of Joseph in Egypt, and Moses and the rest of the prophets. He told of the duplicity of the people, who turned against Moses and worshiped false gods. His accusers listened, mesmerized by his eloquence and wisdom, but they still didn’t like what he was saying.

They especially didn't like it when he said "Look at all the prophets God has sent to you to lead you to him. There is not a single one of them that you have not persecuted. You killed John the Baptist and you killed Jesus the Christ. You are stubborn fools, constantly fighting against the very people who wish to bring you redemption!"

They had heard enough! This was blasphemy! They tore their robes. They plugged their ears. They growled and stamped their feet in rage. Finally they rushed at Stephen, tackled him and dragged him from the Sanhedrin and out of the city. They threw him to the ground and started to pick up rocks and stones.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. It was cold-blooded murder of an innocent and good man. The first stone tore a huge gash on the side of Stephen's head. The second bloodied his cheek. The third destroyed most of his teeth. From then on the cascade never stopped, as each man felt he must outdo the others in violence and brutality.

Stephen prayed and cried out, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit."

They continued throwing rocks, not even stopping when he shouted with his last breath, "Lord, forgive them!" Finally he was silenced.

Sweating from their activity, the men had removed their outer cloaks and laid them at the feet of a man named Saul. Stone-faced throughout the slaughter, he nodded his head in approval.