Acts 6:8-15 · Stephen Seized
A Life to Die For
Acts 6:8-15; Acts 7:54-8:1
Sermon
by John E. Harnish
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October 31…Halloween. It seems to get bigger every year. On my street, there are more decorations, more lights, more pumpkins, more ghosts and goblins. November 1, on the other hand, passed with little notice. For John Wesley, it was just the opposite. It was his favorite holiday. Reading his journals, you can pass December 25 with hardly a word about Christmas, and you can comb through his entries from February to June any year and hardly determine Ash Wednesday or Good Friday. But on November 1, Wesley goes into fits of ecstasy. He tells you what text he preached from and where. He cites Brother Charles' hymn for the day. He even delayed the dedication of Wesley's Chapel on City Road in London until November 1, 1778. It was his favorite day of the year. 

The day is important not only because it is important to remember those who have died, but also to lift up the models of a life "to die for" (as the saying goes)—a life worth living.

1. A life worth living is a life rooted in the past. 

It is important to recall what one author called "the endless line of splendor" of those who have gone before, those who have lived and died in the faith, those who have modeled for us lives worth living. Here, in this place and pulpit, we remember Dr. Runkel, Dr. Thomas, Dr. Wright and Charlie Beynon. But more important than the pulpiteers are the countless people who have filled the pews and the community with their lives of faith and service. Friends and family, husbands and wives, sons and daughters, those who have lived and died. We are all connected, growing out of their lives, rooted in the past.

Stephen's sermon (which you will need to read in its entirety) traces God's movement through the past and connects it with the word of Jesus and the resurrection. He takes them back to the beginning and says that this "new faith" is not really so new. It is an outgrowth of all that has gone before, rooted in the old covenant, now made new in Jesus Christ. 

And I would suggest that in a day like ours, a time of rapid change and massive upheaval, we need to find our anchor in a faith deeply rooted in tradition. I make no apology for what we do here—this space, this music, this liturgy, this table and this font reach far back into the history of the faith because we are rooted in tradition.

If you have visited Duke University Chapel, you know it is not really a chapel at all. It is a great cathedral. It is called the "Gothic Cathedral of the South" and it looks like something out of medieval Europe, transplanted in the hills of North Carolina. Bishop Will Willimon was for many years the dean of the chapel. Commenting on the many tourists who shuffle through the place, he says he thinks one of the reasons they come is that "…in a day of disposable diapers, throw-away wedding gowns, biodegradable garbage bags and plastic everything, people are hungry for something that gives a sense of stability, a sense of permanence, as if to witness to something that will last forever." [1]

The Confirmation class is in worship together this morning and I want to ask them, "Do you think much of what we do here seems out of date? Is the hymn language archaic, does the imagery seem antiquated?" Well, of course it is! That is just the point. We are not making this up as we go. Our faith is deeply rooted in a long tradition, reaching back two thousand years to Jesus Christ and, in fact, all the way back to the very beginning, the "Genesis" of all that exists, the creation. So we sing: 

How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord,
is laid for your faith in his excellent word. 

Lives worth living, and the people we honor today have a firm foundation… 

2. Rooted in tradition, but not root-bound by tradition. 

Lives worth living keep an eye on the future. 

Let me tell you about my Boston fern. We have had it for more than six years and I haven't managed to kill it yet. It still looks beautiful. We put it outside for the summer, and just last week I brought it in for the winter. Amazingly, what I discovered when we brought it inside is that the poor plant is obviously outgrowing its pot. New sprouts are trying to make their way out of the little watering holes in the bottom of the pot. It is desperately root-bound, desperately seeking new life. 

This church, this faith, is rooted in tradition, but not root-bound by it. We are looking, stretching for the future, trying to break out of the old pot in new ways—Sunday Night Alive and plans for a fifth worship service, "Emerge" ministries and new technology, all growing out of our tradition but seeking to express it in vital, creative, new ways. 

Len Sweet coined the phrase "ancient-future faith"—an ancient faith is deeply rooted in the rich past and oriented to the future. 

Luke says that when Stephen tried to preach the new word, the Good News, the crowds thought he was the enemy. They said, "He is speaking out against this holy place and the law. He is breaking our customs." (That is to say, "We never did it this way before!") They couldn't endure his preaching. Luke says: 

When they heard his words, they were enraged and ground their teeth against him. But he, full of the Holy Spirit, gazed into heaven, and saw the glory of God. 

A life worth living is rooted in the past, but gazes toward heaven. It has its eye on the future, looking for the glory of God. 

These whom we honor today in the name of St. Stephen…they looked beyond the suffering of the present and the moment of death to catch a glimpse of the glory of God. Rooted, but not root- bound…living for the future. 

3. And Stephen learned that a life worth living, a life to die for, is a life of giving. 

Flash back to last week. Remember Stephen's whole life and ministry was a life of service, a ministry of food, caring for the widows, giving of himself until in the end he gave his very life. 

And when we look at ourselves in the mirror, when we take a deep look at our lives and the lives of people who have inspired us, we discover that a life worth living is not found in how much we get, but it is measured by what we give. A life worth living is the life of giving. 

The cover article of Time Magazine in September was entitled "Does God Want You To Be Rich?", the debate over the so-called gospel of wealth. It featured some of the biggest preachers of the day: 

- Joel Osteen, pastor of the largest church in America

- Joyce Meyer, one of the most popular TV evangelists

- Kirby John Caldwell, pastor of the largest United Methodist church in America

…all espousing something of the "gospel of prosperity." 

And I would say there is an element of truth to the word they proclaim. God does want us to do our best, to be our best, to discover the joy of all that God can give us. But the article also quotes Rick Warren from Saddleback Church: "The idea that God wants everybody to be wealthy? Baloney. It's creating a false idol. You don't measure your self-worth by your net worth." [2]

 A life worth living is measured not by what we get, but by what we give. A life worth living, rooted in the past, with an eye on the future. It is a life of giving.

Bruce Modahl shares a beautiful childhood memory for All Saints Day. He says: 

In the early evenings of my childhood, the mothers in the neighborhood stuck their heads out the back careen doors and called to their children. "Bruce, come home for supper," my mother sang. "Coming," I chanted back.

"Roberta, Alan, Dale, Steve, Terry, time for supper," the other mothers sang in turn. We broke off our play and headed for the family dinner table.

Standing at the Lord's Table on All Saints Sunday, I call to supper all of those who have gone before us. "Coming," they reply.

And we join our voices with theirs and here, in this Lord's supper, the distance between heaven and earth thins out, the great divide grows porous, the Jordan River narrows, and we sit down to supper together. [3] 

 O blessed communion, fellowship divine
 We feebly struggle, they in glory shine.
 Yet, all are one in thee, for all are thine.
 Alleluia. Alleluia.

Thanks be to God. Amen.


1. Quoted in James Harnish's sermon, "Till All Heaven Breaks Loose," Nov. 22, 1987

2. Time Magazine, Sept. 18, 2006, page 55

3. Bruce Modahl, Christian Century, Oct. 27, 1999, page 1025

ChristianGlobe Networks, Inc., Collected Sermons, by John E. Harnish