
BIBLETELLING
Below is the Narrative Lectionary passage for the coming week. It is followed by Bruce’s notes on the text which aim at a general understanding of the text and some notes on the structures and techniques used by the Biblical storytellers.
In those days when the number of disciples was increasing,1 the Hellenistic Jews among them complained against the Hebraic Jews because their widows were being overlooked in the daily distribution of food.2 So the Twelve gathered all the disciples together and said, “It would not be right for us to neglect the ministry of the word of God in order to wait on tables. Brothers and sisters, choose seven3 men from among you who are known to be full of the Spirit4 and wisdom. We will turn this responsibility over to them and will give our attention to prayer and the ministry of the word.”
This proposal pleased the whole group. They chose Stephen, a man full of faith and of the Holy Spirit;5 also Philip, Procorus, Nicanor, Timon, Parmenas, and Nicolas from Antioch,6 a convert to Judaism. They presented these men to the apostles, who prayed and laid their hands on them.
So the word of God spread. The number of disciples in Jerusalem increased rapidly, and a large number of priests7 became obedient to the faith.
Now Stephen, a man full of God’s grace and power, performed great wonders and signs among the people. Opposition arose, however, from members of the Synagogue of the Freedmen (as it was called)—Jews of Cyrene and Alexandria as well as the provinces of Cilicia and Asia—who began to argue with Stephen. But they could not stand up against the wisdom the Spirit8 gave him as he spoke.
Then they secretly persuaded some men to say, “We have heard Stephen speak blasphemous words against Moses and against God.”
So they stirred up the people and the elders and the teachers of the law. They seized Stephen and brought him before the Sanhedrin. They produced false witnesses, who testified,9 “This fellow never stops speaking against this holy place10 and against the law. For we have heard him say that this Jesus of Nazareth will destroy this place and change the customs Moses handed down to us.”
All who were sitting in the Sanhedrin looked intently at Stephen, and they saw that his face was like the face of an angel.
Then the high priest asked Stephen, “Are these charges true?”11
To this he replied: “Brothers and fathers, listen to me!”12
Acts 6:1-7:2a
“Our ancestors had the tabernacle of the covenant law with them in the wilderness.13 It had been made as God directed Moses, according to the pattern he had seen. After receiving the tabernacle, our ancestors under Joshua brought it with them when they took the land from the nations God drove out before them. It remained in the land until the time of David, who enjoyed God’s favor14 and asked that he might provide a dwelling place for the God of Jacob. But it was Solomon who built a house for him.
“However, the Most High does not live in houses made by human hands.15 As the prophet says:
“‘Heaven is my throne,
and the earth is my footstool.
What kind of house will you build for me?
says the Lord.
Or where will my resting place be?
Has not my hand made all these things?’16
“You stiff-necked people! Your hearts and ears are still uncircumcised.17 You are just like your ancestors: You always resist the Holy Spirit! Was there ever a prophet your ancestors did not persecute? They even killed those who predicted the coming of the Righteous One. And now you have betrayed and murdered him— you who have received the law that was given through angels but have not obeyed it.”18
When the members of the Sanhedrin heard this, they were furious and gnashed their teeth at him.19 But Stephen, full of the Holy Spirit,20 looked up to heaven and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God. “Look,” he said, “I see heaven open and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God.”21
At this they covered their ears and, yelling at the top of their voices, they all rushed at him, dragged him out of the city and began to stone him. Meanwhile, the witnesses laid their coats at the feet of a young man named Saul.22
While they were stoning him, Stephen prayed,23 “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.” Then he fell on his knees and cried out, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.” When he had said this, he fell asleep.24
Acts 7:44-60
THREE STORIES
The following three stories pair well with the Narrative Lectionary passage for the coming week. They are followed by Danny’s sermontelling footnotes which explore the stories’ theological connection to the passage as well as insights into craft and performance. Our advice is to read the story first before digging into the footnotes.
The Witness
Stephen was a witness to Jesus.25
Stephen witnessed, first hand, Jesus’ humility.26 It was on the first day of the week, when Jesus entered the city. Like so many living in Jerusalem, all in the world Stephen wanted to do was to see Jesus with his own eyes and take the measure of him. He had heard so many stories about the mysterious Galilean rabbi healing the sick and casting out demons. He had to know for himself if this man was truly the Messiah. When Jesus entered the city, he was riding on a donkey rather than a white horse and he was not followed by soldiers but by a parade of peasants, children, and misfits. Stephen saw in Jesus a king who had come to serve, so he joined in the waving of palm branches.
Stephen also witnessed, first hand, Jesus’ kindness. It was the next day at the temple. Hours before, Jesus had caused some kind of commotion there, but by the time Stephen arrived, he saw Jesus sitting in the court curing the blind, the sick, and the lame as they were brought to him. Stephen marveled at Jesus’ patience and the depth of his love for each person who came forward. Stephen saw in Jesus a healer who showed grace to all no matter their background or circumstance, so he sat down and listened to Jesus.
Stephen also witnessed, first hand, Jesus’ courage.27 Every day that week, Jesus came to the temple, despite having caused a stir there. And every day Stephen came to watch and listen to him. He saw Jesus boldly argue with lawyers, priests, and teachers. Jesus was never mean or cruel to them but he never backed down from the truth either. Stephen saw in Jesus a prophet who spoke with authority, so he decided in his heart that he wanted to follow Jesus and be like him.
It wasn’t just Jesus’ life that Stephen bore witness to. He also witnessed Jesus’ death.
He witnessed that same courage as Jesus carried his cross to the edge of town and was nailed upon it.
He witnessed that same kindness when Jesus pardoned the thief on his right and called out, “Father forgive them, they know not what they do.”
He witnessed the same humility when Jesus looked up into heaven and said, “Father, receive my spirit,” before breathing his last.
The one thing Stephen didn’t witness to was Jesus’ resurrection. But he was among the first to hear the good news and believe. And in following the Way of Jesus, he continued to bear witness to Jesus’ life by living as he did.
Stephen was a man of considerable talent. He would have made a great preacher and missionary. But the eleven came and asked him if he would serve in a smaller way. Would he be willing to be in charge of food distribution to the widows of Jerusalem. Stephen bore witness to Jesus’ humility by saying, ‘yes.’
When Stephen rolled up his sleeves and got to work, he and the other seven heard the complaints that the Greek speaking widows were being overlooked. They set to work making sure all the widows were treated equally, just as Jesus had treated all people equally. In so doing, Stephen bore witness to Jesus’ kindness.
When he was given opportunities to spread the message in the synagogues, Stephen jumped at that opportunity as well. This was his chance to teach and preach just like Jesus. So Stephen threw himself into the task of spreading the message. When he was challenged by people hostile to his message, he was bold, just like Jesus. In doing so, he bore witness to Jesus’ courage.
Stephen was so thankful that he had the privilege of living like Jesus. Someone should have warned him though that sometimes living like Jesus also sometimes means dying like Jesus. Stephen was one of the first to discover this but he was far from the last.
Like Jesus, Stephen was arrested and charged with blasphemy.
Like Jesus, he spoke truth to power.
And like Jesus, Stephen was sentenced to death.
But Stephen didn’t use his last moments to beg for leniency. He used them to proclaim that Jesus was seated at the right hand of the Father.
As the people began to throw stones at him, Stephen didn’t hurl insults at his attackers. Instead, he cried out, “Lord do not hold this sin against them.”
And when Stephen breathed his last, he did so knowing he had been obedient to the very last, saying “Into your hands I commit my spirit!”28
Nearby, a man named Saul was holding the coats and giving approval to the actions of the mob. He saw, first hand, Stephen’s courage, kindness, and humility. He saw how his face seemed to glow with an otherworldly light as he talked about Jesus. It was an image that would haunt Saul’s every thought. How had he been able to speak with such conviction? How had he been able to forgive those who were hurling stones at him? How had he been able to give his life so completely to this man Jesus? He could not shake the feeling that there was something going on that he did not yet understand. He didn’t know it yet, but Saul was a witness.
The Dangerous Altarpiece
Some time in the middle of the third century, an artist was summoned to a little chapel outside of Byzantium.29 The artist was surprised to be summoned back because only a year earlier he had completed an elaborate altarpiece for the chapel and they seemed really pleased with it. When he arrived at the chapel, the Bishop took him to the altar.
“You must redo the altarpiece,” the Bishop said.
“Redo it?” asked the artist, “Only a year ago, you loved it! Why in the world should you have changed your mind?”
“We asked for an altarpiece that would inspire reverence and awe, but this piece of yours is having a very different effect. A dangerous one.”
The artist was stunned. “Dangerous? What do you mean?”
The Bishop pointed to the first panel of the great triptych.30 “Look here, for instance. We asked you to paint something that would inspire worshippers to reach toward Christ in prayer for their healing needs. You painted Jesus stretching out his hand to heal the blind, the sick, and the lame.”
“Exactly,” said the artist.
The Bishop frowned, “See this panel has confused the people in the congregation. Now they think they are supposed to heal the blind, the sick, and the lame. Some of them have started going out into the community and ministering to the disabled, the plague ridden, and the infirm. I don’t need to tell you that this is very risky work. But it doesn’t just put our congregants at risk, it risks our vitality as a church. Once faithful members are spending more time in hospitals and the homes of strangers, than they are here in the chapel and the worship of Christ is being neglected.”
“That was certainly not my intention,” said the artist.
“Well it gets worse,” the Bishop said, “Look at the center panel! We asked for you to paint something that would encourage participation in the Eucharist and reliance on Christ for physical and spiritual needs. And look! You painted Jesus feeding the multitudes in the wilderness. Well, the congregation has mistaken your painting as a call for the body of Christ to feed the hungry multitudes in Byzantium. Instead of giving their wealth to the Church, they are using it to buy bread for the poor.”
“Perish the thought!” said the artist.
“You jest,” said the Bishop, “But this is very serious. For the first time in our history we have a Christian Emperor. The Church finally has some power. We should be using it to glorify Christ not to open hospitals and soup kitchens! And that brings us to the final panel. We asked for a panel that would inspire worship, and you gave us this! Our Lord bleeding and dying on the cross as John and Mary weep below. This is the worst of all. This is inspiring the congregation to radical acts of forgiveness and self-sacrifice. Just at the time we are finally in position to have our revenge on those who have persecuted us. What’s worse, after viewing this dangerous altarpiece of yours, some people seem to think they should be willing to die for their faith! There’s no talking sense to people like that.”
The artist was alarmed. He had no idea the altarpiece would cause so much trouble.
The Bishop continued, “What if Constantine decides to visit our chapel and he sees this? He’ll think Christianity is a religion of beggars and martyrs! He may decide to become a pagan once again and all would be lost for us. This new prestige and comfort we enjoy would be over. I’m sorry. I need to ask you to redo this entire altarpiece.”
The artist smiled. “That won’t be necessary. I have a solution.”
The artist went home and returned with a bottle of gold paint. He started with the first panel, the painting of Jesus curing the sick and the blind, and with a fine brush he painted a tiny gold circle around Jesus’ head. Then he fixed the middle panel. In the picture of Jesus feeding the multitudes, he painted another little gold circle around Jesus’ head. Then, over Jesus dying on the cross in the last panel, he did the same: he painted a tiny gold circle around his head.
The Bishop scoffed. “What difference will that tiny circle make?”
“Oh, all the difference in the world,” said the artist. “I call it a halo. See, I realized the confusion my painting was causing. The people in this chapel were looking at the altarpiece and they didn’t understand that Jesus was the object of worship and prayer; they thought he was a role model that they were supposed to be like. They mistook Jesus’ reverence for the sick, the hungry, and the weeping, as something required of them. This halo makes it perfectly clear that Jesus is completely unique. He glows with heavenly light and we do not. We are not to confuse ourselves with him. We are the ones without the halo who pray, eat, and weep and he meets our needs only at this altar. From now on, you should have no more trouble from these paintings.”
The Bishop smiled. “Thank you. Now what should I do about those who have already been radicalized by the dangerous altarpiece?”
“I’ll leave this bottle of gold paint with you,” said the artist, “And any time someone arises who tries to heal, serve, and forgive, like Jesus, just wait. Then, upon their deaths, commission their likeness to painted in the chapel and make sure the artist uses this paint to trace a halo around his or her head. Then it will be clear to the people that the radical, too, is not like them. He or she glows with heavenly light and they do not. They, too, are an object of worship and prayer, and not a role model we’re supposed to be like.”31
~ My own Parable
Flowers From the Altar
According to an old Christian legend,32 the devout men that buried Stephen were none other than Gamaliel and his son Nicodemus.33 Recognizing the evil that their fellow members of the Sanhedrin had done to Stephen, they decided to see to it that he had a proper burial. They placed him in one of their family tombs along with the stones that had been used to kill him, and vials of the earth he had bled upon.
The tomb stayed sealed and unknown for almost 400 years until a priest named Lucian had a dream in which Gamaliel revealed to him its location. Lucian was charged by the vision to exhume the body so that it could be a blessing to the living. With the permission of the Church, Lucian went to the spot that had been revealed to him and there he found the tomb. Lucian invited the Jerusalem Patriarch, John, to be there for the unsealing. By the time John arrived, rumor of the event had spread and a crowd had gathered. It is said that when the tomb was opened, the earth shook, and a beautiful aroma of fresh flowers, like the flowers of paradise, spread like a cloud. All in the crowd who smelled it were cured of their diseases and maladies.
St. Stephen’s body remained in Jerusalem at a very old Church called Sion, but the stones and vials of earth were shared with other Churches. Some of them made their way to North Africa where Augustine, the Bishop of Hippo, received them and buried them beneath an altar there which is called St. Stephen’s altar.
Whatever we make of these claims today, Augustine believed them and took them seriously. He devoted a chapter in the CITY OF GOD34 to the altar of St. Stephen. Against the charge that miracles of the sort described in the Bible no longer occur, Augustine told about miracles he had personally witnessed or heard about, related to the altar.
Because of the story of the floral fragrance, a tradition quickly developed of placing flowers upon St. Stephen’s altar. Flowers left upon the altar were believed to have healing powers. People would use them in potions and salves. Augustine reported a blind woman having pedals from the altar applied to her eyes and her sight being restored.
Perhaps the most beautiful story Augustine tells is of a man named Martialis.35 Martialis was a pillar of the community but he was a pagan who refused to be converted. For years many prayed for him to come to faith. Maritalis fell gravely ill and his son-in-law, who was a Christian, took some pedals from the altar and placed them under his pillow. Maritalis rested his head on the petals all through the night unaware that they were there. When he awoke, not only was he cured, but he asked his son-in-law to send for the Bishop so that he could be baptized. For the rest of his life, Maritalis was a Christian and he would continually pray, “Jesus, receive my spirit,” without ever being told that these were St. Stephen’s last words.36
Augustine claims that if he were to attempt to share all the miracles associated with the altar, that he would have time for little else.
Like most Protestants, I am deeply skeptical of the provenance of relics and the fantastical stories that are told about them. But I have to admit there is something moving and poetic about these stories— that the very stones that were used to kill would have the power to heal. That the smallest sacrifice, the laying of a flower upon the altar, and the smallest act of kindness, the retrieving of such a flower, would give way to untold miracles, seems a fitting tribute to a man whose life was marked by kindness and sacrifice. And I can’t help but wonder if the true mark of healing, of having been transformed by the fragrance of paradise, is to be one who continually says, “Jesus, receive my spirit.”
~ Retold from THE GOLDEN LEGEND
SERMONTELLING NOTES:
The introductory phrase attaches this narrative to the narratives in chapter 5, which include a story in which Ananias and Saphira are struck down dead for lying to the apostles, and another in which the apostles are arrested and flogged for their preaching. Nevertheless, we are told that the early church is steadily growing in popularity.
Whether favoritism is actually taking place in the early church’s feeding ministry, the perception of favoritism must be addressed. The phrase “Hellenistic Jews” here refers to Jews who probably speak Greek (rather than traditional Hebrew) and have very likely taken on other cultural customs from the gentile world. Among some conservative Jewish sects, Hellenism was looked upon with suspicion. Some Hellenists might be accused of being Roman sympathizers.
In the wake of this tension between traditional Hebraic Jews and Hellenistic Jews in the early church, readers often miss the understated observation that the early church is making DAILY food distributions to the widows in their midst.
The number of Apostles (12) matches the number of tribes of Israel. This correlation is a symbol of their ministry to all of Israel. Seven (the number of servants chosen to carry on the work of feeding the widows) is a number of completeness, symbolizing their ministry to all people.
The Apostles recognize that this ministry of service requires an equal level of giftedness and dedication to their own word as teachers.
Stephen is singled out among the group as being a man of particularly high character.
Each of the servants named in this passage has a Greek name. The Apostles have chosen leaders who they know will not neglect the Hellenistic widows.
Just as it was striking in verse 6:1 that the church was growing in spite of the high level of accountability and the likelihood of persecution, this passage asserts that the inclusion of Hellenistic (Greek speaking) Jews in the leadership of the early church was accompanied by the conversion of many priests.
This is the third time in this brief narrative that the storyteller has associated Stephen with the presence of the Holy Spirit.
This story of rabble-rousing echoes the phrases of the story of Jesus’ own arrest, trial, and crucifixion. These similarities will be a theme throughout this narrative.
“This holy place” almost certainly refers to the Temple, where 5:12 says the disciples used to meet together. Stephen’s accusers manage to use the phrase twice in this very brief accusation against him. Accusing him of speaking out against the Temple might be specially calculated to alarm the newly converted priests just mentioned in verse 7.
The high priest’s question is another echo of Jesus’ own trial.
The Narrative Lectionary skips over 40 verses of Stephen’s sermon here. In those 40 verses he recaps the story of Israel, beginning with Abraham, moving through the Exodus, and on to the Babylonian Exile. His narrative skips over the period of the Judges and gives only the briefest sketch of the reigns of David and Solomon. Thematically, he seems to emphasize the parts of Israel’s story that keep them on the move. The lectionary reading resumes with 7:42.
The narrative picks up with the Tabernacle, still emphasizing the people on the move.
David, of course, was far from perfect. His description as one “who enjoyed God’s favor” is probably intended to to contrast with Solomon. While Solomon was revered early in his reign for his great wisdom, he becomes a tragic figure who becomes enamored of his own wealth and all of the trappings of Empire. Stephen’s point seems to be that David, the righteous king, did NOT build the Temple. Solomon, the fallen king DID build the Temple.
Stephen has been “falsely” accused of threatening the Temple. His scriptural argument here seems to be that the Temple should have never been built!
Stephen missed the synagogue lecture on “How to Make Friends and Influence People.”
Stephen accuses the Sanhedrin of killing the prophets and missing the point of the Torah.
The members of the Sanhedrin apparently take exception to Stephen’s sermon.
Stephen is once again described as “full of the Holy Spirit.”
The storyteller finds a way to tell us twice that Stephen saw Jesus at the right hand of God. Stephen identifies Jesus with the “Son of Man,” a Messianic figure described in Daniel 7.
The storyteller introduces us to a young Saul of Tarsus, who will later be known as the Apostle Paul. His presence here as a watcher of the cloaks suggests that he was not of age to participate in the actual stoning.
This device of giving us a peek at a character who will later play a key role in the story is a favorite of Luke’s. In fact he has already used it once in this passage, introducing Stephen as one of the seven servants selected by the apostles in 6:5. We are then given a brief narrative interlude describing the growth of the early church in verse 7 before Stephen is reintroduced as preacher and miracle worker.
Stephen is marked here a a person of prayer, much as Luke painted Jesus in his version of the gospel.
The story closes with Stephen repeating two sayings last heard on the lips of Jesus as he died on the cross (though the wording for each is slightly different.) In Luke’s gospel Jesus speaks his word of forgiveness early during the ordeal of the crucifixion, then commits his spirit to God with his dying breath. Stephen utters the two sayings in reverse order before he “fell asleep,” a euphemism for death that was favored by the early church.
The Witness
This retelling of the Stephen story is an exploration of the meaning of the word martyr which translates to witness. Most in our congregations who hear the word martyr will think first of the manner in which someone dies. This is unfortunate, because being a witness also has a great deal to do with how someone lives.
For this reason, I have resisted the temptation in this week toward sharing martyrdom stories. Though these stories are gripping and provoke strong emotional response, I worry that their utility is very limited in a North American Christian context. In other parts of the world, and at other times in history, these stories remain vital to encouraging and inspiring the faithful to stand strong and rehearse how they might give their own lives as a witness to Christ. In most of our contexts, I worry these stories promote a version of the faith that is too far removed from the experience of most folks in our pews to be much help. I also worry they feed into an American persecution complex that sees every cultural critique as evidence that we Christians are living in an age of Neronic distress. I believe discipleship in a free and pluralistic society, where Christianity is the dominant form of religious expression, requires a different kind of witness than the one described in these stories.
Also, these stories are readily available if you need them. Every good Catholic knows this source and every nineties youth group kid knows this one.
I have made an educated guess that Stephen, as one of the very earliest followers of Jesus living in Jerusalem, would have been privy to the events at passover. So while this scenario is imagined, it serves an important function in the story’s exploration of witness. It sets up the idea of Stephen being an eye-witness to Jesus’ death, just as Saul was an eye-witness to Stephen’s.
Sometimes, to be clear that I am exercising my own imagination, I will say something like: Now the Bible doesn’t say, but I imagine Stephen must have been a witness to Jesus’ last week in Jerusalem…
This retelling is organized around a set of threes which is then presented in reverse order. This is sometimes called a chiasm or an envelope structure. This repeats twice. The structure looks like this:
The Witness Stephen is a witness a. Jesus' humility (in life) b. Jesus' kindness (in life) c. Jesus' courage (in life) d. Jesus' courage (in death) e. Jesus' kindness (in death) f. Jesus' humility (in death) a. Stephen's humility (in life) b. Stephen's kindness (in life) c. Stephen's courage (in life) d. Stephen's courage (in death) e. Stephen's kindness (in death) f. Stephen's humility (in death) Saul is a witness Notice how in each set, a corresponds to f, b to e, and c to d. That is the envelope pattern. The strength of a chiasm is it allows us to do 4 sets of three without them feeling dull and repetitive. It also subtly centers courage. Structuring according to simple patterns is a hallmark of oral storytelling. There are many ways to do this, but understanding how your story is structured makes it that much easier to recall and tell without notes.
This time through, I don’t name Stephen’s courage, kindness, and humility. My hope is that, by now, the hearers can pick up on it themselves.
The Dangerous Altarpiece
The introduction of the halo into Christian iconography seems to have began in the 4th century, roughly the same time that Constantine converts. This parable is my imagined explanation for the invention of the halo. The real story is more complicated.
By making Jesus and his saints wholly unique figures, we absolve ourselves of the responsibility to try to be like them. Stephen is an example of what happens when someone attempts to live and die like Jesus. His life is an unnerving witness to the fact that it can be done. Stephen shows us that we too can serve. We too can boldly speak truth to power. We too can die for what we believe in. The halo separates us from those who live in the way of self-giving love and makes them people we seek to venerate, not emulate. They are a special class of people, like Jesus, who lived in a miraculous way that the rest of us shouldn’t bother aspiring to.
Flowers from the Altar
This story is retold from THE GOLDEN LEGEND, a 13th century compendium of the lives of the saints and the lessons that can be learned from them. The term for these sort of stories is hagiography. I’ve chosen this story for two reasons. First, I think it has beautiful Easter images. Many of our altars still have flowers on them and like the idea of using them to point to the power of a life lived in kindness and sacrifice. Second, it ties into this theme of sainthood and martyrdom. I could see the story being used in a way that says: these are the stories that are told of Stephen that make him sound like someone totally different than us. But Stephen was an ordinary human being. He had no halo. He simply was humble, kind, and courageous. Like Jesus. This could be used to kick off onto The Dangerous Altarpiece story.
There is no historical basis for a familial relationship between Gamaliel and Nicodemus, or for the idea that Gamaliel converted to Christianity. It is based on Acts 8:2 which states that ‘godly men buried Stephen.’ The author of the tradition must suppose that the godly men that buried Stephen must have been members of the Sanhedrin and they must have further supposed that they were the two most sympathetic members mentioned in the New Testament: Gamaliel and Nicodemus. I’m struck by how midrashic this reasoning is.
THE CITY OF GOD is considered one of the first great systemic works of theology and has cast a towering shadow on Christian thought through the millennia.
Mar/tee/all/iss
According to the legend, Martialis prayed this prayer continually after. It is unclear whether it is meant that he prayed it with every breath for the rest of his life (as might be a monastic ideal) or whether he made a regular habit of it. My own feeling is that the latter is meant. The miracle is that something of Stephen’s spirit live on in Martialis. But I’ve tried to retain the Golden Legend’s ambiguity.