The Preacher Stephen

Who would have believed that the tidings of Messiah, preached by simple Galileans just a few weeks ago, would have spread so rapidly in Jerusalem? There was no corner of the city where it wasn’t talked about. The number of believers grew mightily, and not just among the poverty stricken in the lower sections of the city where the apostles lived. There were plenty of adherents among the Hellenists on the heights. Stephen, the most famous of the preachers, became a convert and spread the word of Messiah from synagogue to synagogue.

It was a hot afternoon in the month of Tammuz, during the time of year when Jerusalem lies under the skies like a heated limekiln. On such days people would search out any niche they could find for protection from the heat, including assembling in the synagogues where they could also refresh their souls with a little learning.

On this particular day, the Cilicians assembled in their synagogue to hear a sermon delivered by Stephen. Among those in attendance were Saul and Barnabas.

The Cilician Synagogue was unique among the synagogues of Jerusalem in that it didn’t occupy a central court like other synagogues. It stood on a series of terraces on the rim of the lower marketplace, where the city descends to the Kidron valley. Some of the buildings served as both sleeping quarters for pilgrims from Asia Minor, and as places of assembly and recreation. It wasn’t just a place for prayer, but a place for rest and discussion as well. As such it wasn’t restricted to the spiritual needs of the people. In an hour of need, anyone could turn to the synagogue. It might be a local member who fell on hard times, a merchant who lost everything, or a new arrival who needed a place to sleep.

Now Stephen wasn’t tied down to any one synagogue. He was a wandering preacher going anyplace Greek-speaking Jews assembled. He had a large following, and whenever he appeared in an Alexandrian, Cyrenean or Cilician synagogue, the building was filled to overflowing. It wasn’t just that he was a master of their language. He thought like they did. He was one of them, having been born and raised in Antioch. He was well versed in the prophets and Psalms, which he’d studied in their Greek translations. He’d also studied the stormy Jewish-Hellenistic books, the Wisdom of Solomon, and the vision of the Sibyls. But his belief in a Messiah for all mankind was drawn directly from the prophets Isaiah, Ezekiel, and Amos.

As he stood in the Moses seat that hot afternoon, there was a sense that something different was about to happen. A man of some forty odd years, he had a flaming yellow beard and red locks that framed his pallid, shining face. His blue eyes were covered with a misty film of exaltation.

Lifting his hands high, he began as he always did, starting at the beginning, taking nothing for granted. He told the story of God’s covenant with Abraham, the sacrifice of Isaac, and Jacob’s dream. He told them of the election of David and the prophecies of Isaiah. When he came to the Hellenistic books, he painted a terrifying picture of the last days.

“The world is being swallowed in the jaws of sin. God has withdrawn and the spirit of evil now has complete control over it. Men are worse than the beasts of the field. They chop their little ones into pieces on the altars, and turn against the laws of God and nature. Therefore God turns away from them. Judgment day is nigh. There will be war between heaven and earth, and a rain of fire will be sent down from the clouds. Man and beast will flee from the fiery arrows and hide in caves and hollows, but destruction will surely find them. There will be thick darkness and the sweat of terror will cover men’s bodies. The mountains will split and roll into the valleys. The seas will spew forth their waters and drag mankind into the deeps. And wherever the waters cannot reach, the earth itself will open up and swallow those whom the fires of heaven have not destroyed.”

The audience was seized with panic. First the women, then the men started wailing. Some wrung their hands, while others smote their breasts.

“Threefold sinners are we all!”

“How shall we save ourselves?”

The voice of the preacher rose above the tumult, “But God will have compassion on the remnant of Israel. He prepared the cure even before he ordained the affliction. And that is the Son of Man who was with Him before the creation of the world. The heavens will open, and the Son of Man will appear in the clouds surrounded by legions of angels. Then all creatures will fear and be silent before him. The mighty of the earth will quake and tremble. They’ll come before his throne and abase themselves before him. Then he will awaken the dead and order eternal peace. He will abrogate the law, for there will be no wickedness or evil. Goodness will be the natural impulse of creation, and peace will reign on earth.”

By this time, looks of bewilderment could be seen on some faces. People started murmuring things like, “Abrogate the law? Goodness will be the natural impulse? Who is this Son of Man who was with Him before creation?”

Then a direct challenge came out of the corner, “Who is this Son of Man?”

“It’s the King Messiah, who has already come, and we did not know him. The righteous man whom we allowed the wicked to put to death, and whom God raised from the dead!” cried the preacher.

People turned to each other in agitation. Many voices were raised now.

Stephen continued, “He is the one God has elected. He is the righteous man who came to obtain forgiveness of our sins through his death. He is Jesus, the King Messiah!”

There was a long interval of amazed silence. Not a breath was heard. Finally, one trembling voice was heard, “Yes, I saw the righteous man when he fell under the burden of his cross. His strength was gone, but the wicked men beat him cruelly.”

“What? The one that was hanged on the cross – the King Messiah?”

“He suffered for our sins, as it is written, ‘He shall bear the sins of many,’ the preacher continued to exclaim. “For he let himself be bound like a lamb led away to the slaughter. He is the Son of God!”

“May your mouth be stopped by serpents and scorpions for the blasphemy you speak! Who do you call the son of God?”

“The righteous man is called the Son of God!”

“No! Israel is called the son of God. He is our Father and we are His children.”

The preacher took up the challenge. “Are we concerned here with words, with clanging cymbals? What word can describe him? By what name should he be called? Can he be contained in a word? This is the one you prayed for and have waited so long for. He’s the fulfillment of your hope and the reward of your labors. He justifies all your sufferings and gives meaning to your lives. Without him, all is meaningless.”

“But that is the Almighty and the Eternal you describe,” said a voice through the frightened silence that followed. “These things can be said of no one else.”

“The Almighty is the God of Israel, and His Messiah sits by His right hand, and is the instrument through whom God will judge the world. He stands between God and us. He knows our sufferings, for he was among us and is one of us.”

“Does God need an assistant? Curse him who says God needs a helper.”
“Shut this man’s mouth!”
“Drag him before the Sanhedrin!”
“But he’s our preacher!”

* * * * *

Later that evening two friends sat on the terrace of the synagogue looking down into the valley of the lower city. Many spirals of fire rose from the huts there where the wives of the poor were preparing the pitiful evening meal. A black vastness hovered over the valley, which seemed designed to crush the inhabitants of the lower city and keep them from becoming other than creatures crawling on the face of the earth. Up above, where the friends were seated, the stars were clearly visible.

Saul and Barnabas had been shaken to the core by the preaching of Stephen, and sat in silence, each in his own thoughts. But while Barnabas was eager to talk about it, Saul looked grim and kept biting his short fingernails. Several times Barnabas tried to break the silence, but Saul would scarcely answer, and then only with a bitter grimace.

Finally, Saul was able to digest the full meaning of that afternoon’s sermon, and he spoke out.

“If we are to accept everything he said about Jesus of Nazareth, then we must all fall down before him. We must abandon the Torah and all that Moses taught. A new world order will begin and all nations will fall under it. If this doesn’t happen, then we know that his words are all written in sand, and all who repeat them are blasphemers.”

“But who says Messiah must be according to what the preacher said, like he were a second Authority, God forbid! Messiah is sent to us, to restore the Kingdom of Israel.”

“Not so. The Kingdom of God is for the whole world,” cried Saul fervently. “I agree with the preacher there. I’ve never heard it brought out so clearly before. If only he hadn’t applied his words to one who was hanged, then he would be my best beloved brother.”

“Do you believe that Messiah is a second Authority?”

“I believe with perfect faith that he stands between us and God, and all authority is given into his hands.”

“No, no,” protested Barnabas, “King Messiah comes only for Israel, to restore the kingdom. That’s what the prophets say.”

“It’s only the little of faith who wait for such a Messiah. I tell you Joseph, that such a Messiah is not worth the price we’ve paid.”

“But why can’t we be like all the other people?” asked Barnabas.

“Are we like other people? Haven’t we been beaten and humiliated daily for Messiah’s sake? Haven’t we denied ourselves the joys of this world for his sake?”

“But I’m weary of carrying the burden of the world. I’m weary of being the scapegoat for the sins of others. Isn’t Israel worthy of being an end to himself?”

“But Israel is the light of the world. We are not asked if we will do this or that. We’ve been elected for this task, to carry the yoke of the Torah, until God sends a redeemer of flesh and spirit. And then he’ll bind the nations and bring them into the granary. For such an Israel no price of suffering is too high.”

Barnabas gazed at his friend with both wonder and envy. It wasn’t just in his words and voice that Saul’s exaltation was evident. By the light of the moon, Barnabas could see the pent-up bitterness and resentment vanish from Saul’s face when he talked about Messiah. His face was now radiantly beautiful.

“And what you said about Stephen. Would you really hand him over to the Sanhedrin? Why would you do that?”

“Because he is my best beloved brother,” answered Saul quietly.