April 20

April 20, 2008 Vance L. Toivonen

READING Acts 7:55-60

But filled with the Holy Spirit, he gazed into heaven and saw the glory of God and Jesus standing at the right hand of God. "Look," he said, "I see the heavens opened and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God!" But they covered their ears, and with a loud shout all rushed together against him. Then they dragged him out of the city and began to stone him; and the witnesses laid their coats at the feet of a young man named Saul. While they were stoning Stephen, he prayed, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." Then he knelt down and cried out in a loud voice, "Lord, do not hold this sin against them." When he had said this, he died. And Saul approved of their killing him.

READING from Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC by Frederick Buechner

When somebody you’ve wronged forgives you, you’re spared the dull and self-diminishing throb of a guilty conscience. When you forgive somebody who has wronged you, you’re spared the dismal corrosion of bitterness and wounded pride. For both parties, forgiveness means the freedom again to be at peace inside their own skins and to be glad in each other’s presence.

SERMON

The stoning of Stephen may seem like an obscure subject for a sermon. Getting stoned has come to mean something completely different since the late 60s, but in the first century it was quite literal. Stephen is a Jewish man who has joined a sect called the Way. There was no “Christianity” per se in the early and mid first century. People who followed the life and teachings of Jesus were referred to as followers of the Way. According to Suetonius, an early second century Roman historian, emperor Claudius expelled all Jews from Rome in the middle of the first century because of a controversy surrounding a fellow named Chrestus. It may be that this is a Roman reference to the Christ. At any rate, these tensions continued to make Jews, especially those Jews who were living in exile, referred to as the Diasopora, rather nervous about rocking the boat or causing a stir. Stephen, and others who were connected to this movement called the Way were perceived as doing just that.

Stephen’s stoning follows an impassioned speech which ultimately (and wrongfully, I might add) indicts his fellow Jews for crucifying Jesus. I suppose in a less literal sense we are all responsible for his death, and the deaths of many who have sought to show us the way over the millennia. But Stephen was pointing a finger at his Jewish sisters and brothers of the Diaspora, and suggesting that they, not he, was guilty. The stoning resulted, justified, I’m sure, by interpretations of Jewish Law. And so the story goes.

Having made these introductory remarks I want to focus on the very tail end of the first reading. Very much like Jesus on the cross, Stephen uses his last breath to proclaim forgiveness to those who were at the moment pelting him with rocks, some big enough to crush a skull if the aim was just right. Since Stephen did die, it is likely that someone succeeded in their aim, and finished the job. But not before this crucial declaration. And this would provide enough impetus to launch a sermon on forgiveness, which you may have suspected from that second reading by Buechner. But the real kicker, the coup de grace (coo–de-graw) of this text is that very last line…”And Saul approved of their killing him.”

Do you know who Saul is? Saul was later named…Paul. And Paul ended up being a missionary who traveled all over the place telling people about Christ. Paul became a leader in the movement he once tried to destroy. Saul stood, stone faced at the death of Stephen and celebrated another victory in his efforts to close the door to the Way. Later, perhaps years later, Saul stood on a roadside and heard a voice ask, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me.” Saul was transformed into Paul. Saul was born again as Paul. This is the power of forgiveness. And I have to wonder whether or not Saul heard those last words of forgiveness spoken by Stephen. I think he did, and I think those words, and that act of forgiveness, planted a seed in Saul that prepared him for that encounter on the road to Damascus years later.

Forgiveness for people of the Way was radical forgiveness. It is forgiveness for the Holocaust. It is forgiveness for 9/11. It is forgiveness for unspeakable human atrocities. It is forgiveness that offends. It is forgiveness that sends Jimmy Carter to speak with the leaders of Hamas. It is forgiveness that led Jesus to teach his followers to love their enemies. It is forgiveness that turns the world as we know it upside down. It is forgiveness that has the potential to transform our world, if we will only give it a try.

I preached a sermon about forgiveness at Bay View the Sunday right after the attack on the towers, and one family left the congregation because of it. At the time we wanted pay back, as a nation. Forgiveness was far from our minds. To a certain extent pay back is still on our minds. Perhaps Stephen’s example can inspire us to consider the alternative, forgiveness and reconciliation.

Enemies can became colleagues, or even friends. I have experienced this in my ministry with individual people. It doesn’t happen with everyone who considers themselves at odds with yours truly, but if the invitation is there, and both parties are working from a forgiving place within their hearts, it can happen. And it must happen if we are to grow into healthy relationships within our religious communities. There is no better place to practice forgiveness than right here. There is no better place to throw off the grudges, the bitterness, and the resentment then right here. Jesus invites us to cast those burdens on God, where they properly belong. We do not need to keep laying them on one another way past their due date.

In this very progressive congregation I often hear shots taken at the religious right. I have taken them myself in the past, one of the many things I need forgiveness for. Christians on the far right and Christians on the far left are still sisters and brothers in Christ. We can work to find common ground, and find ways to reconcile with one another. I have come through a very angry stage in my life, anger toward my own past fundamentalism. I was in a play, publicly displaying this anger while serving this congregation. It was a selfish thing to do, and something for which those of you who are still here at Hope have likely forgiven me. Others did not, and maybe still have not. I have forgiven myself, and am grateful for your forgiveness. Thank you.

The example I would seek to set in the days ahead would be to look positively upon those who seek to follow Jesus Christ, even though we differ in theology and practice. Just as I am accepting of the religious diversity that exists between religions, so I must work to accept the religious diversity that exists within this one religion we call Christianity. I am learning how to do this. I would encourage all of us to approach one another within the Christian community with divine love and grace in our hearts.

It is no small coincidence, (in fact, I believe the very work of the Holy Spirit), that an envelope appeared on my chair Thursday morning, the morning I came in to finish writing this sermon. The person who left it there for me had no idea about the direction of my sermon this week. I believe this is how God and the universe work, synchronicity and convergence of light and hope. The envelope contained an article written March 31^st of this year. It was written by Leonard Pitts, a Pulitzer Prize winning journalist who currently works for the Miami Herald.

We have heard what Rev. Jeremiah Wright said. The news media has not let us forget what he said. And, as Pitts reminds us, he said some awful things like…”the AIDS virus was created by the government; Louis Farrakhan is a great man;” and of course those three words we will probably never forget, “God damn America.” Barack Obama was very careful in the debate Wednesday night to clarify that he has dissociated himself from the commentary of Jeremiah Wright, but that he has not forsaken the man. The forgiveness in Obama’s heart will not allow disowning of a human being. No doubt he takes seriously this aspect of being a follower of Jesus the Christ.

Enter Mike Huckabee, the fundamentalist Christian Governor of Arkansas, and former presidential candidate in the Republican Party. Leonard Pitts saw an interview on MSNBC. The moderator of the news program assumed Huckabee would further bash the preaching of Jeremiah Wright, for both religious and political reasons. After all, it was a great opportunity take a shot at Obama. But Huckabee did not bite. Instead he responded,

And you know what? Sometimes people do have a chip on their shoulder and resentment and you just have to say, ‘I probably would too. In fact, I may have had more of a chip on my shoulder, had it been me.’

In response to this Pitts writes,

It bears repeating: a black Mike Huckabee would be more angry than Jeremiah Wright, not less. It was an admission of startling, unexpected insight and, dare I say, Christian generosity. A conservative white man invited white men and women to project themselves into dark skin, to imagine how bitter they might be, had they come of age in an era where law, religion, media and custom said they were less than truly human beings.

I may disagree with Mike Huckabee about issues both social and theological, but in this instance he evidenced the compassion and grace of Jesus in a way that tells me he takes his faith seriously, and seeks to live it. Kicking people when they’re down, or setting ourselves up as superior to others is not the way that people of the Way are suppose to behave. Jesus lived a compassionate life, socializing with the social outcasts, and touching the untouchable. He even experienced his own criminalization, becoming a social outcast himself, and being put to death as such. Insofar as we still crucify the Christ by condemning and ostracizing those who exist outside of our comfort zones, or who live in a counter-cultural manner, I suppose you could say that we are withholding forgiveness from the very Jesus who lived and embodied forgiveness. How ironic.

If Saul can be transformed into Paul, then we can be freed from the bondage of our grudges and resentments, our judgments and our bitterness, our condemnations and our downright sourness. I think that second reading by Frederick Buechner bears repeating here. He’ll have the last word this morning: