Acts 6:1—7:2a, 44-60 on May 4th, 2025
Above is audio of the sermon pulled from the video and amplified.
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Though the gospel of John sits between them in the Bible, Luke and Acts are really two volumes of the same story. Same author, the same mission. Acts picks up right where Luke ends, continuing to show how Jesus brings a new hope, not just through his earthly ministry, but through his followers, through the church, through the spirit. While Acts is kind of a sequel, it does stand on its own. It tells of the church's messy, beautiful, tragic, and hopeful beginnings. There are glimpses of the ideal, where everything seems to be going right. And then there's the hard reality of what comes next. Acts does not shy away from the tension between the ideal and the real, and neither should we. Because what we hear and what we learn from Acts isn't just some ancient history. Its themes can also be seen in today's church, our church.
So interstiven. When the 12 found themselves overwhelmed by the growing needs of the community, they delegated. Seven were chosen to take on the work of caring for others, feeding widows, serving tables, tending to the needs of those on the margins. And Stephen is one of those seven, but he doesn't just serve. He speaks. He preaches. He teaches it, and apparently he does it well, well enough to create a disturbance in the Pharisees. Stephen proclaims that God is not bound by any one place, not even the temple, and that God's presence has always been mobile. And the shakes, the foundations of the religious establishment. So they drag him outside the city. One thing leads to another, and he dies. Stoned to death, praying for his attackers with a vision of Jesus standing at the right hand of God. And standing there, watching the whole thing is a young man named Saul. Spoil alert, he is pretty important going forward.
Now if you haven't picked up on this already, just let me lay it out for you plain and simple. X is not that easy, nor that much fun to preach on. Stoning? Yay! If you play your cards, you can end up just like Stephen and Jesus. So maybe we don't look at Stephen by himself, but instead we look at the greater story of the church around Stephen and see how that relates to us right now. The early church before all this chaos around Stephen was doing what the church is supposed to do, proclaiming the good news, feeding the hungry, caring for those in need. This is the way. It was walking the walk and talking the talk. It was beautiful, it was hopeful. No wonder people wanted to join up with them. Those types of situations can draw people into a community of faith. But then the chaos. Stephen's death was a moment of massive disruption. It shattered the early church's sense of safety and marked a turning point. They had to figure out what was next. God still be working even when this happens. The early church felt vulnerable, disoriented, unsure of what would come next.
And I think in our own way, St. Philip is in a similar place. In recent years we've had momentum, a successful capital campaign, a spirit of generosity, a clear sense of call to be a welcoming, serving Christ, centered, gathering of people. We have exciting renovations happening and we're doing what the church is supposed to do, feeding, caring, gathering, growing. But then the chaos. Even when things are going well, uncertainty can creep in. And in a similar, though much less violent way, our renovations, the transitions, and the questions about the future disrupt what was once familiar and safe. Our routines have changed. This fellowship hall may feel cramped at times. These aren't the pews we were looking for. We may long for things to be done or to go back to normal, whatever normal means. And how long are we going to be down here? How do we keep the energy up? Will we get tired of this? What's the next step when the renovations are done?
And while fellowship hall worship is nothing like being hit by rocks, disruption shows up in our lives. There's job loss, health scares, family conflict, a sense that something is unraveling it in our faith and our relationships and our plans. We wonder where is God? Is God still here? What now? We all have times of transition and change seasons of disruption. And for us at St. Philip, it's a letting go of what was and a step into a hopeful uncertainty about what will be. And yet here, in this temporary transitional moment, God is still working. It looks like chaos or transitions to us is often the very space where God does some of God's best work. Renewing both our community and our mission. God is working on us and in us building on what has been so that we can more fully share the good news of Christ in Word indeed.
See, God has not left the building, especially not when the building is getting new life. God is still gathering us around the Word, still feeding us at Christ's table, still shaping us into something new, despite the uncertainty, despite the change of routine, despite it all. And the story of Acts reminds us that God is not stuck in the past. God is already ahead of us preparing the way. And God's faithfulness does not depend on things going smoothly 100% of the time. In fact, God works, calls, gathers, prepares even through stonings, struggles, stresses, and spiritual renovations. And since God is working no matter what we can move forward with hope, not just that the building will be better than before, it will be, but hope that we too will be renewed. Hope that this renovation isn't just about bricks and beams, but about us being shaped by God's spirit, even through difficulty and displacement. Some of that we can welcome more openly, serve more deeply, and love more fully than ever before.
Because this is what Stephen's story tells us. It's what Acts teaches us that God is present, even in the most uncertain of times. Even when we don't know what's coming next. Even when what was is gone and what will be is not yet clear. And still working, still calling, still urging us forward into something new. And that's what Stephen saw in his final moments, a vision of Jesus and God's right hand. In the middle of violence and confusion, Stephen saw Christ, not far off, but right there, radiant and present. And that same Jesus is with us too. Right now we might feel like we're in a kind of in between. In sanctuaries, between routines, between what was and what will be. But the story of Acts reminds us that God is not wait for things to be tidy or finished. God shows up in the middle of the mess. Because the good news is this, that God meets us in the midst of disruption. God works through seasons of uncertainty and God calls and equips us and makes us new. Not just in buildings, but in spirit. Yes, there are questions and some answers about what comes next. But regardless, Jesus is here. Spirit is moving and God is already ahead of us preparing the way. So if things feel messy, good. That's where God is. That's where God works. And that is where new life begins. Amen.