A wasted life?

Now Stephen, a man full of God’s grace and power, performed great wonders and signs among the people… All who were sitting in the Sanhedrin looked intently at Stephen, and they saw that his face was like the face of an angel. Acts 6:8-15

If I had to choose one New Testament person that I would like to know more about, I think it would be Stephen. The verses I have quoted above make it clear that he was an exceptional man, yet he is here and gone in the blink of an eye, right at the very birth of the church.

He appears first in Acts 6, and is described as “full of faith and of the Holy Spirit” (verse 5), as “full of God’s grace and power”, and as “performing great wonders and signs among the people” (verse 8). That’s recorded in a low-key, matter-of-fact way, as if it’s the most ordinary thing in the world, but if we let our minds dwell on it for a few moments we realise how very special he must have been. (Quite like Jesus, in fact.)

And then, in verse 15, we learn that when under severe duress – even the threat of a violent death - “his face was like the face of an angel”. Can you imagine that?

In the next chapter we read a long speech he made to “the Sanhedrin” (the Jewish ruling council), which, to be honest, we might find a bit boring at first. And that is the last we hear of him. He is stoned to death, praying two wonderful prayers: “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit”, and “Lord, do not hold this sin against them” (Acts 7:59-60). (Both prayers remind us, of course, of the dying Jesus.)

I can’t help wondering what his “back-story” was. What sort of age was he? Was he married? Did he have children? What was his daily work? Where did he come from? How did he become a follower of Jesus?

Well, God hasn’t chosen to satisfy our curiosity, so it’s no business of ours to probe. But Stephen’s brief appearance on the stage of history prompts another question in our minds: Was his life a wasted life? Putting it another way, it prompts those two tantalising words: What if…? Suppose he had had, say, another ten years on this earth, what might he have achieved in the service of Christ?

The sermons he might have preached… the miracles he might have worked… the lives he might have changed. He might well have been remembered as up there with Peter, James, John and Paul, the “stars” of the infant church.

But no. No sooner does he come to newness of life in Christ than his earthly life is cruelly snuffed out. Why does God allow that? What is he up to?

Well, there is a limit to how far we should question. But various important truths stand out from this story…

First, always be prepared for death.

When Stephen got out of bed that morning, very likely he was expecting a perfectly normal day. But it wasn’t to be. And quite possibly that’s how our final day will be too. So the wise course is to look death fairly and squarely in the face; not, of course, to be over-preoccupied with it, but to talk about it and to prepare for it.

Second, accept that this is one of those areas where God’s ways are not our ways, his thoughts not our thoughts.

However strong our belief in eternal life and its glory, the fact is that simply being human means we are hard-wired to cling to earthly life; that’s the way we are made. God, in comparison, seems quite casual; and so when somebody is “cut off in their prime” or in particularly tragic circumstances, or, of course, when a child dies, we are likely to feel confused and possibly angry.

Perhaps this is the ultimate test of faith. It’s easy enough to say “I believe” in many of the teachings of the Christian faith, but to solidly believe that Jesus died and rose again and that we will do the same may be another matter. If – when – that faith wobbles, let’s not feel guilty or depressed but share it with friends in Christ; and, of course, lay it before God. He understands, and he will bring comfort and hope.

Third, let God alone be the judge of any life’s usefulness.

Yes, Stephen might have accomplished great things. But who are we to say? The sheer impact of his Christlike character, the effect of those miraculous deeds, the sight of his angelic face, above all the manner in which he embraced his death – all that, and more, may have brought more people to faith in Jesus than the full life-span of many others. (And we can never calculate to what extent his death contributed to the conversion of that young man at whose feet those who carried out the stoning “laid their coats”… (Acts 7:58).)

Fourth, be realistic about dying.

Francis of Assisi addressed “thou, most kind and gentle death, waiting to hush our latest breath”, which seems very admirable. But is it really biblical? For the vast majority of even strong Christians, death is anything but “kind and gentle”.

I always take comfort from what we read in Acts 8:2: “Godly men buried Stephen and mourned deeply for him”. There was, it seems, no forced rejoicing, no put-on celebration. Yes, they knew that death is a defeated enemy – as Paul puts it, the last enemy (1 Corinthians 15:26).

But that doesn’t mean it isn’t still an enemy!

Lord Jesus, please help me to shine for you every day of my living – and also on the day of my dying. Amen.