Two Wisdoms
Why did they kill Stephen
The book of Acts is a story of conflict.
It starts with a world-changing reality and a commission: Jesus rose from the dead and, in so doing, initiated a new world order, a new way of living, and then told his disciples, go everywhere and be witnesses to this new reality. Often this new reality is called, the Good News. And it is Good News, isn’t it!
But an interesting phenomenon that we see throughout the book of Acts is that not everyone see the Good News as such. In fact, two things tend to happen almost every time the Gospel is preached in the book of Acts:
People receive it joyfully
People resist it violently.
The story we heard last time is the first time in the book of Acts where the collision of those two resulted in someone’s death as Stephen became the first Christian martyr.
Mike did an amazing job leading us in a conversation about Stephen’s defining virtue last week, wisdom (Acts 6 describes him as a man full of the Holy Spirit and wisdom), and while I was listening to Mike’s sermon last week about this man who’s wisdom—that is, the way in which he lived his life—was so vibrant and so compelling, I found myself wondering, why did he die? If he was so wise, why did they kill him?
I guess what I’m getting at is why didn’t (doesn’t) everyone who heard (hears) the Good News respond with joy?
In 1 Corinthians 1, Paul gives us an answer:
18 For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. 19 For it is written:
“I will destroy the wisdom of the wise;
the intelligence of the intelligent I will frustrate.”
20 Where is the wise person? Where is the teacher of the law? Where is the philosopher of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? 21 For since in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom did not know him, God was pleased through the foolishness of what was preached to save those who believe. 22 Jews demand signs and Greeks look for wisdom, 23 but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, 24 but to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. 25 For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength. (1 Corinthians 1:18-25)
What I find so interesting about this is that the man who wrote these words was there the day Stephen gave his famous sermon, the day Stephen was killed for his wisdom.
And the man who wrote these words was one of the leaders who killed Stephen for his wisdom.
Two wisdoms
He says the problem is that there are two wisdoms, the wisdom of the world and the wisdom of the cross.
The wisdom of the world seems appropriate for navigating life in this place but runs counter to the culture of the Kingdom.
And the wisdom of the cross is the Way of life in the Kingdom but is an offensive foolishness in the world.
And Acts 7 is the kind of thing that happens when the two things collide. The same kinds of things happen when the two things collide today.
I mean that literally and figuratively.
Literally, there are still many places where people who genuinely desire to live and bear witness to the wisdom of the cross are suffering like Stephen and the early Church did. There are many conversations that we should be having about how to pray for, advocate for, and support our family around the world, but that is not the conversation that I want to have today.
We are not a persecuted people, despite the impression you might get from some in the American church. Nevertheless, we do live at the collision of the wisdom of the world and the wisdom of the cross. We do experience this conflict every day. Not out there, but in here.
You see, when I ask myself why, if Stephen was this paragon of wisdom, this pillar of the Church, this hero of faith, why did they kill him? It’s because he presented and embodied a wisdom that challenged theirs. His life and message were an offensive foolishness, more than that, a threat to the wisdom by which they lived their lives.
Their version: why were they so angry with Stephen?
In their words, because “this man never stops speaking against this holy place and against the law.”
The heart of their accusation was that Stephen showed a blatant disregard for the temple and for the law of Moses.
In other words, they were accusing Stephen of the crime of blasphemy, which is speaking against God.
Again, I find myself in the interesting position of feeling like I need to speak on behalf of the Sadducees and Pharisees. These were not just angry people, and they probably had some reason for concern. If Stephen said what they said he said (and I think he did), then they saw him as:
Undermining over 1000 years of tradition
Tradition, as Tevye reminds us in The Fiddler on the Roof, is how we keep our balance in an ever-changing world.
They had countless stories of what happened when people weren’t dogmatic about protecting tradition.
All you have to do to drift is nothing
Never again
Undermining their authority.
Not just power-mad
They saw themselves as guardians of the law, protecting God’s people from untold horrors.
Jeopardizing the kingdom of God
Preventing the return of the Messiah
Preventing the vindication of Israel
Preventing the blessing of the nations and the restoration of the world.
These were the stakes in their eyes. This is why they had to kill Stephen.
The wisdom of the cross: I hear you, but Jesus changes everything.
We’re not entirely sure what Stephen said that got him into trouble in the first place, but when we combine their accusations, with his words at the trial, with the testimony of the early Church and Jesus on these subjects, we start to get the picture.
Jesus is the fulfillment of the law.
It’s not by our obedience but his that we are justified in the sight of God.
God made him who knew no sin to be sin for us so that we might become the righteousness of God. (2 Corinthians 5:21)
For just as through the disobedience of the one man the many were made sinners, so also through the obedience of the one man the many will be made righteous. (Romans 5:19)
Romans 8
Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, 2 because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you[a] free from the law of sin and death. 3 For what the law was powerless to do because it was weakened by the flesh,[b] God did by sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh to be a sin offering.[c] And so he condemned sin in the flesh, 4 in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fully met in us, who do not live according to the flesh but according to the Spirit. (Romans 8:1-4)
“Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them.” (Matthew 5:17)
The early Church preached something remarkable and, depending on your perspective, troubling: they preached the forgiveness of sins in the name of Jesus. “I am the Way.”
God doesn’t live in the Temple
Stephen quoted Isaiah in his speech:
“Heaven is my throne. The earth is my footstool” (Isaiah 66:49)
Isaiah 6: The train of his robe filled the temple
For people who had gotten used to seeing God as regional God, the prophets had an important message: he’s bigger than your box.
And, it’s not just that he’s bigger than the temple; it’s that he’s here in person
“Destroy this temple, and in three days I will rebuild it.” (John 2:19)
“Something greater than the temple is here.” (Matthew 12:6)
Why is there no temple in the new Jerusalem in Revelation 21? Because God lives among and within his people, and they all know him.
That’s what Peter said:
As you come to him, the living Stone—rejected by humans but chosen by God and precious to him— 5 you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ (1 Peter 2:4-5)
If you miss Jesus, you’re on the wrong side of this
You’re supposed to be the experts in the law, but you’re the biggest sinners here (stiff-necked, uncircumcised hearts, killed the prophets, killed the Messiah). This is what ultimately got him killed.
They read their story and identified themselves with Jehoshaphat, Josiah, and Hezekiah when, in fact, Stephen says, “You’re a lot more like Ahab, Joash, and Zedekiah.”
Our version: rugged individualism
Don’t we tend to do the same thing?
As Christians, we read this story and immediately align ourselves with the Church, with Peter, John, and Stephen.
Don’t assume you’re the good soil, you’re the remnant
The fact is we are all subject to a worldly wisdom as well.
Today, I want to take a look at the Jewish authorities who put Stephen to death not simply as the villains in the story but as people who were offended by the wisdom of the cross, because I don’t know about all y’all, but if I’m honest, sometimes I’m more like them than I am like Stephen.
Let’s not assume that we’re the ones who receive it joyfully. One thing I’ve discovered often is that this story is much more complex than the good people did good things, and the bad people did bad things. It’s about a confrontation between kingdoms.
Ours is a bit different: it’s not about law and temple. It’s a lot less structured and easy to define, but it’s just as real and pervasive. In fact, it’s everywhere.
We don’t have a temple, but one of the most famous verses in the Bible that is (mis)quoted everywhere in the world is what? “Your body is a temple.”
This we take to mean, love yourself well.
That, of course, is not the full quote, nor context.
We don’t have a written law, but it has been replaced by an anti-law which we might call the law of the self.
The wisdom of the cross is an offensive foolishness to the wisdom of self.
You have a king
Eyes on Jesus
Die to live
Claimed
You have a purpose
Commissioned
You have an advocate
Covered
You have a family
You need one another