St. Stephen
Acts 7: 51-60
“It is not the punishment, but the cause, that makes the martyr.” St. Augustine
As many of you can tell us, the transition of old Broadway Presbyterian Church to its new location on a hill near TCU was a tough transition indeed. Rev. Hardie retired, preaching from Broadway’s pulpit; and the Rev. R.W. Jablonowski, former lawyer and former Marine chaplain led Broadway as it abandoned its old digs and started building here, on this site, in 1950. While the congregation waited for the new building to be erected, they met in the old Paschal High School auditorium, which is now MacLean Middle School. One of the more controversial topics that were debated during the transition was, what do we name this new church? Many were still fond of Broadway Presbyterian, but of course people pointed out, we aren’t located on Broadway Street anymore!
The Rev. Dan Durway, now a retired pastor, was then a mere stripling boy, just out of high school, already something of a fan of the new young pastor Rev. Jablonowski, and he raised his hand in a congregational meeting and suggested, “What about St. Stephen?” Apparently he’d been set up to do this by Rev. Jablonowski. But once the name was mentioned, it took a life of its own. The long-envisioned, and still far from complete, gothic church on the hill would be called “St. Stephen,” after the first deacon and martyr of the Christian Church.
What does it mean to call ourselves after St. Stephen? It would do us well to learn a bit more about our namesake.
Stephen was a Hellenized Jew living in Jerusalem in the first century, during the early rise of the Christian church. Jews, you remember, were scattered throughout the ancient world, and as a result many had only limited knowledge of Jewish faith and faith traditions. That’s why Stephen has a Greek name; if he’d been born in Judea, perhaps he would have been known by his Hebrew name, Kalila, which, like Stephen, means “crown.” These Jews were called The Hellenists. Jesus had a Hellenist disciple, Philip. The Hellenists, says one historian, “spoke Greek and adopted a freer lifestyle than the more conservative Jews.”[1]
Unfortunately, the Hellenists were often discriminated against when they came to Jerusalem, treated as second-class Jews. It’s important to understand this in the context of the story of Stephen in the bible, because apparently this discrimination had spread to the Jerusalem church, as well. In Acts 6, we’re told, “there was a disagreement between the Hellenists and the Jews. The Hellenists complained that their widows were being overlooked in the daily distribution (Acts 6:2).” Remember that in the early church, “people shared all things in common, “selling all their belongings to make a general distribution to all, as any had need” (Acts 2: 45-46). However, apparently this distribution was uneven, and the Hellenists were getting the short end of the stick.
The Apostles treat this for what it is: a violation of the Body of Christ, which only the Body of Christ can fix. They say, “It would be a grave mistake for us Apostles to neglect the word of God in order to wait on tables. Therefore, friends, chose seven men of good reputation from your number, full of the Spirit and wisdom, to deal with these matters” (Acts 6:3). In other words, the Apostles said, “Solve this yourselves.” There’s no better test of the faithfulness of a Christian congregation than its commitment to one another.
Thus the first deacons were born. Deacon means servant. These folks were the servants of the congregation. It sounds like their specific job was not to deal with all the distribution, but just the part particular to Hellenized Jews. In this group of deacons, Stephen quickly emerged as a leader.
Church historians see Stephen as more than a servant, but a man with the foresight to recognize that the Gospel couldn’t stay hemmed in to Jerusalem, among orthodox Jews.[2] He was the forerunner of a new generation of preachers who would see the Gospel of Jesus Christ as open to all people, not limited to one people; and furthermore, to see it less bound up in tradition and rules and more a matter of the heart. This would become essential for the church to expand beyond Jerusalem and Judea and into the Gentile world.
Stephen’s fervent message brought him before the Sanhedrin, the Jewish Council, headed by the high priest. They accused Stephen of rejecting the traditions of the faith, and he responded by saying, no, I am defending its deeper meaning. Then he proclaimed that Jesus is the new Moses, come to set them free from laws and traditions; and that his accusers have rejected Jesus just like they did the prophets. He tells them to repent.
Then he has an extraordinary vision: he sees the heavens opening up, and Jesus at the right hand of the Father. It is Stephen’s vision that is too much for the Sanhedrin to take, and they drive him out of the city and stone him to death. Another Hellenist Jew, a Pharisee, witnesses the events, holding the cloaks of the men stoning Stephen: his name is Saul, and he will become Paul of Tarsus, the man who will spread the Gospel through the world.
St. Stephen Presbyterian Church’s seal, what you see on the pulpit, is the symbol of the cloak and three stones. Obviously, the stones symbolize Stephen’s death by stoning. The cloak symbolizes the cloaks that Saul held. Certainly to be named after Stephen means that the church is called to service to others, and to the boldness of a martyr in defending the faith. But in these days of societal change, when the church universal feels threatened and uncertain about whether its age-old message and traditions can continue to stand, St. Stephen stands as well for having a vision—a vision of the future—a vision of hope—of a hope that includes not simply those who uphold tradition, but those who don’t fit the mold—a vision of faith that is larger and more inclusive, and of a God who welcomes more than just a few. Think about it: if Stephen hadn’t spoken up, and died, the Gospel might well have remained cooped up in Jerusalem until the city fell to the Romans in 70 AD, and there it would have died with many other former incarnations of the Jewish faith that perished in that terrible conflagration. But because Stephen was bold enough to stand up for his vision, this Hellenist Pharisee Saul would witness his death and be so influenced by it that he would be open to the vision that would come to him later, the vision of the Risen Jesus that struck Saul down on the Damascus Road. From that experience Saul was transformed to become Paul, the Apostle to the Gentiles, spreading the Gospel to Rome and Asia Minor, thus fulfilling Stephen’s vision.
When the Session of Broadway Presbyterian Church first acquired this piece of property in the forties, and drew up plans for a Gothic church on the hill, they were pressing forward with a vision of the future; and when teenaged Dan Durway and young Rev. Jablonowski presented the name of St. Stephen, and the congregation voted “yes,” they too were pressing forward with a vision of the future—a future of servant ministry, of boldness in proclaiming the faith, but also of boldness in embracing the future, and of God’s love embracing all people.
Ironically, St. Stephen’s tradition is to be visionary. Thank God for that tradition. May we ever embrace it. Amen.