They say that two things are inevitable: death and taxes.
The task of an accountant is to minimize the taxes people pay.
I read somewhere that the task of a pastor is to prepare people for a good death.
Of course, this statement might be overly simplistic theologically. It might be overly narrow in a practical sense. It might be just plain wrong.
Three objections jump to mind immediately.
One… This claim is symptomatic of a pie-in-the sky mentality that dismisses the day-to-day realities of life in favor of the hope of heaven some day. Being a Christian is more than fire insurance for when you die. Being a Christian is about following Jesus here in this life and experiencing the joy of his salvation while we’re still walking and talking and growing.
Two…This claim reflects a remarkably narrow view of the pastoral vocation. What about teaching people the scriptures? What about walking with people through suffering and pointing them to Christ’s healing? What about discipling people? What about preparing people to live life to the full in the grace and power of God?
Three…This claim is downright morbid—more suited to a time when pastors were always stern, wore black frock coats, and looked like undertakers.
I don’t remember where I read it, but I sure remember the quote. “The task of a pastor is to prepare people for a good death.”
This claim has rested at the edge of my consciousness for years, refusing to let go and nudging me to think through its implications. This claim might not be wrong after all. This claim just might be the most succinct, and at the same time complete, description of the pastoral vocation ever penned.
It just might be that the one who is most equipped to live the Christian life to the full is the one who is most prepared for a good death.
It just might be that the one who is most equipped to live the Christian life to the full is the one who is most prepared for a good death.
If that’s true, then it just might be that preparing people for a good death—in the grace and power of God—is precisely the same thing as equipping people to live a full life—in the grace and power of God.
Chapters 6 and 7 of the Book of Acts tell the story of Stephen. Stephen has the distinction of being the first Christian martyr—the first follower of Jesus to be killed for his faith.
This is a story of a good death. Not because Stephen was a martyr—the cause of death isn’t the issue. This is the story of a good death. Not because Stephen was a martyr, but because Stephen was prepared.
About Stephen’s life we don’t know a lot of detail. We know that he was a Helenistic Jew—that is, he spoke Greek better than he spoke Aramaic; he was comfortable in the predominant culture of the Romans and Greeks; and he was nevertheless Jewish (like all the earliest Christians). We know that he was one of the seven men chosen to assist the twelve with leadership responsibilities, specifically the daily distribution of food to the widows in the growing Christian community in Jerusalem. We know he had a powerful ministry in Jerusalem, and that he did “great signs and miraculous wonders among the people.”
We don’t know exactly when Stephen became a Christian. Since Jesus’ ministry was mostly in the countryside of Judea among Aramaic-speaking Jews, Stephen probably came to faith in the risen Jesus sometime after Pentecost. He might have been one of the 3000 who were baptized on the day of Pentecost. In any case, Stephen wasn’t a follower of Jesus for very long, at least not on this earth.
In Acts 6:5, Stephen is described as “full of faith and the Holy Spirit.” In verse 8, this is emphasized again: “Stephen, a man full of God’s grace and power…” Every indication is that Stephen’s life, as a follower of Jesus, though not long, was very full.
Every indication is that Stephen’s death, as a follower of Jesus, was a good one.
Every indication is that Stephen’s story has a lot to say about the characteristics of good death and full life.
Every indication is that I’m going to talk about four of those characteristics in this sermon.
One… As a follower of Jesus, Stephen faced death without fear.
Not without conflict. Not without persecution. Not without suffering. Not without grief. Not without trouble. Not without pain. Not without a lot of things that most of us would just as soon do without.
But without fear.
By the grace and power of God, Stephen’s ministry gained a lot of attention in the community. He had to know that trouble was coming. His opponents were outspoken in their criticism of him and his ministry. Public debates were a common occurrence. Stephen won all the debates, but that just made his opponents even more angry.
They stirred up the people and the elders and the teachers of the law. They seized Stephen and brought him before the Sanhedrin. They produced false witnesses who testified against him. Things did not look good.
Would you blame Stephen if he was a little worried at this point? I wouldn’t.
The text says that all who were sitting in the Sanhedrin looked intently at Stephen, and they saw that his face was like the face of an angel. (No wonder they looked at him so intently; they expected him to be worried too.)
That his face looked like an angel could mean a lot of things. But I’m pretty sure that one of the things that means is that they saw in Stephen’s face serenity and confidence. What they did not see in Stephen’s face was worry. What they did not see in Stephen’s face was fear.
Stephen answered their charges, not with a defense of himself but with a proclamation of God’s faithfulness throughout the generations. He challenged his opponents to see their own unfaithfulness in the mirror of their ancestors’ recurring unfaithfulness. He spoke the truth with clarity and directness…and no fear.
Around Stephen, anger turned to rage. They dragged him out of the city. They began throwing stones at him. Stephen stood…utterly without fear.
Stephen faced death without fear.
Stephen was prepared to face death without fear because, by the power and grace of God, Stephen learned in life to trust in Christ without fear. Stephen was prepared to face death without fear because Stephen was equipped to live life without fear.
Two… As a follower of Jesus, Stephen faced death with no bitterness in his heart.
Stones fell like hail all around Stephen. The text says that he prayed: “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.” Some of the stones hit their target. The impact forced him to his knees.
If anybody ever had good reason to be angry and bitter, Stephen did. The rage of others was literally killing him, but he did not rage. Instead he prayed: “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.”
By the grace and power of God, Stephen faced death without fear. By the grace and power of God, Stephen decided to forgive his attackers. Wow.
When the shadow of death wanders near, even in the best of us, old wounds long-buried emerge from the shadows. Bitterness long-forgotten surfaces. Bitterness we didn’t even know we had. Bitterness we thought we had put behind us. Bitterness that turns out to have been suppressed, not released.
Bitterness makes a good death impossible. Forgiveness makes a good death beautiful.
The threshold of death is a hard place to learn the art of forgiveness, though. When the muscles of forgiveness are weak from disuse in life, the threshold of death can be a font of bitterness unleashed. On the other hand, if the art of forgiveness has been well-practiced in life, then the threshold of death offers no obstacle to forgiveness and no platform for bitterness.
Stephen faced death with no bitterness in his heart, with a readiness to forgive, because, by the power and grace of God, he practiced in life the art of forgiveness.
Three… As a follower of Jesus, Stephen faced death with his eyes focused squarely on Jesus.
When opposition arose, Stephen kept his eyes focused squarely on Jesus. He didn’t concern himself with his own standing in the community. He didn’t concern himself with his own ambition. He didn’t concern himself with avoiding conflict for the sake of avoiding conflict. He didn’t concern himself with himself. When struggle came his way, Stephen concerned himself with Jesus.
As the anger around him escalated, Stephen, full of the Holy Spirit, looked up to heaven and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God. With that vision before him, Stephen was fully prepared to die a good death.
I suspect that Stephen was accustomed to focusing on Jesus. I suspect that Stephen was prepared to face death with his eyes focused on Jesus because he lived his life with his eyes focused on Jesus.
Stephen was no super-man. He was full of faith and the Holy Spirit—both gifts, both available to all of us.
Four… As a follower of Jesus, Stephen knew scripture. He didn’t just know scripture as ancient history. He knew scripture as God’s story. He knew scripture as his story. He understood the world around him according to scripture. He interpreted the world around him according to scripture. He was immersed in scripture.
Most Jews of his time were immersed in scripture. That’s probably why the Sanhedrin listened to Stephen speak as long as they did. They heard him telling the stories they all knew. Stephen’s stories. Their stories. Abraham… Jacob …Joseph…Moses…David…Solomon. (In fact, if you want a quick overview of almost the whole Old Testament story, read Stephen’s speech in Acts chapter 7.)
When the circumstances of Stephen’s life reached crisis proportions, Stephen drew on scripture…to interpret what was happening, to respond to what was happening, to find encouragement in what was happening.
By the grace and power of God, Stephen found the reassurance to face life and death without fear in scripture.
By the grace and power of God, Stephen found the resources to forgive in scripture.
By the grace and power of God, Stephen knew Jesus was the promised Messiah because of the witness of scripture.
By the grace and power of God, Stephen was prepared for a good death, in part, because he lived and breathed scripture.
By the grace and power of God, Stephen was prepared for a good death because he was equipped for a full life.
I read Stephen’s story and I pray…
God, by your grace and power, fill us with faith and the Holy Spirit.
God, by your grace and power, equip us to live and die without fear. By your grace and power, equip us to forgive, truly forgive. By your grace and power, equip us to keep our eyes focused squarely on Jesus. By your grace and power, equip us to live and breathe scripture, so that we view the world through the lens of scripture, and not scripture through the lens of the world.
By your grace and power, fill us with faith and the Holy Spirit. Prepare us for a good death, that we might live a full life.
