Life Series: Part 2
Proverbs 4.10-18; Acts 7.55-60
It’s a terrible end for a good and decent man.
Stephen … chosen to be a Deacon … to care for the needy … the daily distribution of bread.
Then or now, people are hungry …
Stephen is gifted for the work …
But it didn’t take long for some to challenge him …
lies are told …
rumors are spread …
reputation questioned
anger stirred up …
Stephen defends himself well …
He speaks the gospel with intelligence …
He doesn’t pull his punches …
maybe he should have pulled his punches …
maybe he should have eased up a bit …
maybe he should have held his tongue …
The crowd heard enough, and they didn’t like any of it.
When a mob is ready, there is no convincing them otherwise.
They dragged Stephen outside of the city … they stoned him …
So the end comes to Stephen …
his mortal life undone …
his last breath taken …
final words spoken:
forgiveness,
mercy,
LORD, do not hold this sin against them!
May such grace be ours at the end of the road.
Because the end of the road comes to all of us.
One way or the other.
Slowly it comes upon us, or in the blink of an eye.
Painful, or not.
My father died suddenly … at a Gideon’s meeting … after dinner, he and my mother were chatting with others, when suddenly, he fell backward … a friend said, “he puffed a few times,” and then was gone.
My mother died more slowly, and finally, in the hospital.
Death comes a-calling for all of us …
We’re mortal creatures.
Dust to dust, earth to earth, ashes to ashes.
The thought of mortality is disturbing … maybe for all of us, when we think about it … keen observers of the human story all agree - we spend a lot of time, and a lot of money, trying not to think about our death.
Early in my ministry, I spoke of death and dying, with a detached confidence, as only the young can do.
When I was young, death was more abstract than real; it was far removed … but time has pushed me along the road … my future is a lot shorter than my past - death is no longer quite so abstract …
We begin to hear the clock ticking somewhere in our mid-30s, or a bit later, …
When we’re children, time is timeless …
the future stretches endlessly to some distant horizon -
there’s alway time, and plenty of it …
We’re in a hurry when we’re young - to hit our teen years … get that driver’s license, graduate, and so on … and then one day, we’d like time to move a bit more slowly … the days hurry on by, taking us to our singular destiny - the way of all flesh … as the Bible says, to sleep with our ancestors.
Death becomes the companion sitting silently in the living room of our mind.
We’ve been able to extend our lifespan well into our 70s and more … for that, we can be grateful …
We outlive most of our ancestors for whom death was much more the constant companion …
Our ancestors learned from the nearness of death …
The poet John Donne:
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
One short sleep past, we wake eternally
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.
Death wasn’t easy for any of our ancestors - they felt deeply the loss of loved ones … they wept, they walked through the valley of darkness with bowed heads and broken hearts … they grieved as we do … death is what it always is - hard and sad and unrelenting.
Donna and I both have family genealogies.
Donna’s great grandfather in Sweden kept a marvelous diary, a diary of faith and sorrow; life in all of its ups and downs …
My great great uncle wrote beautiful letters to his “dear wife, Elizabeth,” from the Civil War battlefield …
Donna’s grandfather, my great great uncle, lived with death nearby … both spoke of Christ - who was just as near, always kind, and ever-loving … it wasn’t dogma … it was devotion … devotion to the things of God, with a sense of God’s devotion to them … their God was very large, and God’s promises were central to who they were, and what the future held.
My great great uncle assured his dear wife, that if he didn’t return home, he would see her in heaven.
In the meantime, she wasn’t to worry about harvesting the potatoes - just do the best she could.
Our ancestors might well encourage us:
Remember the things of faith …
A Mighty Fortress Is Our God
God of the Ages, Whose Almighty Hand
Immortal, Invisible, God Only Wise
The ancient creeds:
I believe in the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting.
The Heidelberg Catechism … the first question:
What is your only comfort
in life and in death?
And the answer:
That I am not my own,
but belong—
body and soul,
in life and in death—
to my faithful Savior, Jesus Christ.
As it was for Stephen … perhaps it will be mine, as well, and yours, too - to see Jesus at the right hand of God, and the heavens opened up …
However it ends … it ends ... suddenly or slowly, painfully or easily … it ends …
I pray that I have lived well ... not always easily ... life has had some hard corners for me ... probably for you, too.
I've walked with a limp, as Calvin once put it ...
In the end, little Tommy Eggebeen will be whisked off to the everlasting arms ... some will weep, but the world won't much notice ... time hurries on!
Perhaps I will hear the words of Jesus, "Well done, good and faithful servant."
Jesus will likely add, "Well, Tommy, m’boy, you didn't always do it right, but come on in anyway, and we'll see what's next!
Welcome home Tommy. Welcome home!”
Hallelujah and Amen!
