S. BLOOD OF THE MARTYR STEPHEN

BLOOD OF THE MARTYR STEPHEN

03-14-54

Acts 22:20 This is the pastor bringing the morning message from Acts 22:1-30. We have read Acts 22:1-15. I want first to read the remainder of the text. And now why tarriest thou? Rise and be baptized and wash away thy sins, calling on the name of the Lord. And it came to pass that when I was come again unto Jerusalem, even while I prayed in the temple, I was in a trance. And saw him, the Lord, saying unto me: Make haste and get thee quickly out of Jerusalem for they will not receive thy testimony concerning me. And I said: Lord, they know that I imprisoned them that believed on thee. And when the blood of thy martyr Stephen was shed, I also was standing by. And consenting unto his death and kept the raiment of them that slew them. And he said unto me: Depart, for I will send thee far hence to the Gentiles. And that concludes as far as he was able to deliver his message of defense. Now, in order that we might see what Paul was doing and why he thus spake, may I recount for a moment the story in Acts 21:1-40. This is the concluding part and time of the apostle Paul’s life. After his third missionary journey, he came to Jerusalem for the fifth and the last time. And when he made his report to James, the pastor of the church in Jerusalem, James said to him: Brother Paul, the people here, the Jews here who are Christians, who believe by the myriad, by the thousands. The Greek word is tens of thousands.

It was an enormous church. Dr. Carroll, B. H. Carroll, says that the church in Jerusalem had more than one hundred thousand members. I know the church in Antioch when John Chrysostom was pastor of it had more than one hundred thousand members.

They say this church is too big. Why, we haven’t even started. You wait until we have one hundred thousand members in it and then we’ll consider whether it is too big or not. When Paul went to Jerusalem, he made his report to the church concerning the grace of God upon the Gentiles. And he also brought to the church, the mother church, a gift from their hands for the poor saints in Jerusalem. So while Paul was there, the pastor said, the brother of the Lord, James said to him: Brother Paul, look at these tens of thousands of members of the church and they’re all zealots for the law. They all teach the law. They are Jews. They are Christians, but they are also Jews. They keep the law. They train their children in the way and in the manner of Moses.

Now, they have heard of thee that you speak against the Jews and against the temple and against the sacrifice and against the mosaic customs.

Now in order to still their voices, you take a Nazarite vow before the brethren here, then you go out to the temple and according to the Levitical code in Num 6:1-27, you shave your head with them and you burn the hair of separation and give according to the Levitical law. The church is for them, you paid for these poor Nazarites who cannot buy the offerings themselves. So in order to show himself Orthodox, to the Orthodox Jew, the apostle Paul consented and he went up into the temple. And it was during that time that he was making the sacrifices of purification and of separation, having fulfilled the vow that some of the Jews from Asia who heard him preach in Ephesus, who saw all Asia turn to Christ through the marvelous ministry of this man of God, they being in the temple and having cause to hate him bitterly.

They cried saying: Men of Israel, men of Israel, help. This is the man that teacheth all men everywhere against Moses and against this place and against the customs God has delivered unto us.

You say you can’t prove yourself to people who won’t believe in you. If you have an implacable enemy, don’t try. You could never live holy enough to convince him. So Paul in the act of proving himself Orthodox, instead of the men coming and saying: Look, we’ve been wrong about this man. Let’s shake his hand and receive him in our fellowship.

Instead of that, they raised a hew and a cry, saying this man has polluted this temple. Not only not believing in the laws himself, but he’s brought in Greeks. Having seen prophets with him in Asia on the street. He’s brought in Greeks, plural. Into this temple. And there was such a furor and such a mob and such an awful stir until they seized Paul and were beginning to beat him to death there in the Gentile court of the temple in Jerusalem.

Now, above the temple, oh, how the Jew looked upon that with the bitterness. Above the temple on the north side was the great tower of Antonio, a vast castle in which the Roman legionaries were housed and controlled Jerusalem and Judea under the hands of the procurator and under the hands of the Roman Caesar. In that high castle of Antonio, they watched the court, the Jewish temple and the worship, day and night, looking down upon it. And when the soldier, the watchman up there saw the terrible mob and cry in the temple, why, he sent word to the chiliarch, the leader of the Roman garrison and he called his centurion, who called the co-hort. And they ran down the steps of Antonio and into the temple and into the center of the mob. And picked up Paul as they were beating him to death. And he said: What is this man? Who is he? And they cried -- someone saying from another. And the chiliarch bound him with chains and was taking him out of the temple and when they came to the steps of Antonio of which they were going into the Roman garrison, Paul spoke to him in the classical learned Greek language and said: May I say I word unto thee? And the chiliarch, the colonel of the garrison turned and said: What? You speak Greek? Aren’t you that Egyptian that lead the sicarrii, the dagger men, the bandits?

They were a hired company of men who went in great crowds and slew political enemies by stabbing them and then disappeared in the crowd. Aren’t you a part of that? And Paul said: No. No. I am barely a man who am a Jew of Tarsus in Cilicia, a citizen of no mean city. And I pray thee, suffer me to speak unto the people. And the chiliarch suffered him from standing on the steps of the tower of Antonio, overlooking the vast temple court below when its infuriated, blood-thirsty and maddened mob, Paul raises his hand and made a defense for his faith.

What kind of a thing would you think he would say as he stood there, bound in chains, guarded by the Roman legionaries, looking into the face of his own people and race and tribe and family who just before had been lifting their hands to beat him to death? What would you say? What would you think Paul would say?

Well, some learned theological argument surely. Educated as he was in the Halakah, and the Haggadah the Mishnah of the rabbinical traditions, you’d say he’d stand there and he would elaborate learned theological things, arguments by the faith.

You’d think he would confound those infuriated there below with heavenly eruditions, with celestial flags of oratory, wouldn’t you? As he stands there and looks into their infuriated faces and defends the Christian way, wouldn’t you think that he would fall into politic fancies and celestial fire and all kinds of able praises as he defends the Christian faith? Wouldn’t you think so? As we wait breathlessly for that man on the steps to open his eloquent lips and speak the why of the Christian faith, you know what he says? Like a child, like a child, he makes a recital of the simple facts of an experience; a conversion.

There is no erudition. There is no learning. There is no argument. As he stands there on the steps of the tower, speaking to that vast maddened throng below, he recounts a simple experience.

I was on the way from Jerusalem to Damascus. And as I made my journey in a light that put out the sun, I met the Lord Jesus on the way. He recounts a simple story.

He was a learned man, Paul was. He was a graduate of the rabbinical school of Gamaliel, the greatest teacher they ever had, Paul was. He was learned in Greek, in classics. He could quote from their poet. He’d preached in the Areopagus in Damascus, in Athens.

He knew Hebrew. He spake Aramaic. He was one of the great intellectual giants of his day. Yet when it came to the defense of the Christian faith, he never referred to the classics. Never banded about an actual argument. Never summoned up work of mind to bring to bear upon that mob below. But as he stood to defend the Christian faith, he recounted an experience. And my brethren, the defense of the Christian faith is ever just that. The defense of the Christian faith is never an intellectual argument, it is always a personal experience.

Christianity is not a matter of the array of learned phrases and subtle arguments and philosophical approaches. Christianity is not a battle of opinions and of ideas and of philosophical insights. But Christianity is an incarnation. Christianity is a man standing up saying: This is what I have seen and what I have felt and what happens, because I was there. I saw it. I felt it.

It is my experience. Christianity is a man standing up saying: I was on the way from Jerusalem to Damascus. And on the way, I met the Lord and it has never been the same again.

Christianity and its defense is not a book, but a man. It is not an intellectual argument, it is a personal experience. This is what I have seen and felt and heard. That is the defense of the Christian faith.

It is a man in Africa, standing up saying: I was going from Jerusalem to Damascus. And on the way, as those chosen go with fame and riches and honor, in one of the great clinics of the land offered me after my graduation from the medical school and after the completing of my internship in the great hospital, I was on my way from Jerusalem to Damascus. And as I journeyed toward that self-chosen goal, following ambition and fame and riches, I met the Lord Jesus in the way. And I heard his call and he said: Africa. And Africa which I turn my face to his people now, I minister this dark continent is my life and my prayer and my ministry and my practice. That is the defense of the Christian faith. It is a limping man standing up saying: I was a sheep going astray on the way from Jerusalem to Damascus. And I met the Lord Jesus in the way. And I am now returned to the shepherd and the bishop of my soul. The defense of Christian is a man standing up saying: I was blind, groping for the wall on the way from Jerusalem to Damascus. And I met him who’s able inside and glorious presence opened my eyes. And whereas, once I was blind, now I see. That is the defense of the Christian faith. The defense of the Christian faith is you, and I look at you in your face back there. And I see you. And you, and I look upon you who once were going to Damascus. On the road with a high hand and a proud heart, seeking. What things do we seek? Some ambitious for wealth, for fame, for achievement, for glory, for money, for pleasure. Inhabiting ways are we on the way. And we meet the Lord Jesus, and we are never the same again. I know, I was there and it turned me. It changed me. And I am a new man with a new hope and a new vision and a new dream and a new dedication. That is the defense of the Christian faith. Men, brethren, fathers in the defense which I now make unto you. I was on the way and I met the Lord and it’s never been the same again. A lot of people answer arguments like that. It cannot enter into them. Philosophy can bandy about all kinds of subtle places. Philosophy can marshal all kinds of erudite supposition. But philosophy cannot answer a man’s experience.

I met the Lord. I saw him. I felt him. I heard him and I turned. To destroy Paul’s argument, you have to destroy Paul’s life and Paul’s character and Paul’s mission and Paul’s message and Paul’s ministry. To destroy Paul’s argument, you must destroy Paul himself. As long as he stands there, he’s a rock against which infidelity. And Paul’s philosophy and pseudo science beat itself to death. As long as he stands there with that story of meeting Jesus in the way. When I went into the room for my Ph.D. oral examination, having studied two years, the day came for them to question me whether or not I was worthy of that doctor’s degree. And one part of it was to stand a two hour oral examination with those learned professors and doctors of the law, asking one question after another for two interminable hours. So I took my seat and they started. And one of the questions was this, “Young man, in your study, in the field of New Testament, we suppose you have come across the critic words that Paul had a sunstroke on the way to Damascus and that was his conversion.

He had a sunstroke under that terrible blazing Syrian sky, at midday, he had a sunstroke and that was his conversion. And I presume, they said you also have come across the critic word that Paul because of his vision and his trances, he was an epileptic. Now, young man, what do you think of that?” And I replied, “Honored sirs and learned men of the law, all I can say to that is this. That I have here in my hand, I have in my hand thirteen letters that are written by that man Saul of Tarsus. And in those letters are some of the sublimest passages, the world has ever known. Though I speak of tongues of men and angels and have not love, I have become a sounding brass or a clanging symbol. And though I have the gift of prophecy and understand all mysteries and all knowledge. And though I have all things so that I can remove mountains and have not love, I am nothing. And though I bestow all of my goods to feed the poor and though I give my body to be burned and have not love, it profiteth me nothing. The man who could speak like that and the man who could write letters like that, if that is a gift of a upon sunstroke, and if that is the gift of a man with epilepsy,” then I said, “may God in heaven grant that we all have sunstroke and that we all turn out to be epileptic.” The defense of the Christian faith is the apostle Paul himself. His character. Has life. His work. It stands for two thousand years. Sustained and glorious before God and before men.

Brethren, hear my defense. I was on the way from Jerusalem to Damascus. And in a light that blotted out the sun, I saw the Lord Jesus. And the years passed and the days passed. I wonder how that experience wears in apostolic trouble and turmoil? Through the passing of the years, does he get away from it? Does he get away from it? So many times an experience we’ve had years and years ago, time clouds it. Memory grows dim and the thing is hard to remember. How does this man wear in his apostolic labors and his remembrance of what happened on the Damascus road?

After shipwreck and after imprisonment and beatings and toils and travel, how does he do and how does he say and how has it worn? You have your answer here.

We’re coming now to the close of the long life of the ministry of this glorious servant of God. And as he stands in the twilight of life to speak to his people in the teem of Jerusalem, to the men, brethren, and fathers of his own family and people, what does he do?

He goes back to that glorious day, the hour that he met the Lord. And after the passing of the years, it is as bright and as glorious and as full and as meaningful as it was the day that it happened. That is true Christian experience. The days don’t wear it away. Time does not deface it. All of the trials and sorrows of life do not blot it out. It becomes sweeter, more precious as the years go by.

Back yonder, back yonder, back yonder, I remember the day. I remember the time. I remember the hour. I remember the preacher. I remember the service. I remember the people. I remember the church. What it was like. I remember the song that they sang. I remember how I felt. And until that day until this, the experience has never faded. It hasn’t dimmed. But its true meaning has appeared more sweeter as the years go by. That’s in the defense of the Christian faith. When I was in school, I’ve never trained myself in following it, but I had a philosophical turn of mind. I like to read philosophy and psychology. Starting out to major in it. Was a grader in it. I liked it. Thinking, reading, trying to probe into the causes of things. Had a wonderful friend, glorious friend. He and I were pastors together in a little place. He there and I here. We went out together and came back to the school together.

We were both majoring in psychology and philosophy. And reading those books, pouring over those arguments, thinking through all of those learned reasons. And as time went on, he left it. He resigned his church. He resigned his ministry and he gave up his Christian faith and became a learned, educated, scholastic, agnostic. He didn’t believe in anything. He didn’t believe in anything. And he said to me, “You’re going to do the same thing. You may think it now for another year. You may hang on for two more years. It may be a while. But you won’t stay, you can’t. You can’t. When you read these books and when you study this thing and when you see what men say, it will prove to you, too, the vanity and the emptiness and the vacuity, that stand for the Christian faith. You’ll leave it, too.”

I wonder why I didn’t. I wonder why I didn’t. I want to tell you why. I will admit to you that times without number I’ve been so tied up in my mind until I couldn’t find the way.

I will admit to you that there have been lots of times when I have so doubted in my mind until intellectually I felt I could not follow in the Christian way.

I will confess to you that lots of times it seemed to me that the arguments of the agnostic and the infidel was beyond what any man could ever answer. I confess that to you.

Then why didn’t I follow in his way and turn aside from the Christian message and the Christian faith?

I’ll tell you why. I never could get away. I never could get away from how I felt and the something that happened in my soul back there when I was a boy and went to the little church and heard the pastor preach. And mother talked to me about trusting Jesus and the savior. And I went down the aisle and gave the pastor my hand and couldn’t see him for the tears in my eyes.

Something happened there. As a boy, ten years old, something happened. And to this day, I have never been able to repudiate it. It did something to me. It took something in me. It is there forever and ever. That thing cannot die.

I have never found an argument. I have never seen a philosophy. I have never read a book. I have never heard a man, never yet, that was able to change that something. The die that was cast. The bend of a twig, the turn of a life. I have never seen one that was able to take it away. And after the passing of these years, the tree has grown in that way until now it has become the heart and soul and center and vision and aim and goal of my whole life. I was on the way from Damascus, from Jerusalem to Damascus, and I met the Lord Jesus and it has never been the same again. The defense of the Christian faith is you, is you. Is you. This is it. This is it. Look around you. Oh, what the Lord has meant, what he has done, this is it. This is it.

Now, in your program we had announced that I was going to preach on THE BLOOD OF THY MARTYR STEPHEN. I was. I intended to. But when I read this passage I just got to thinking about some of these things and I couldn’t pass them by. But in my appeal, I want to sum up the sermon that I prepared for this morning. And haven’t time to preach. In his defense, Paul says: No, Lord, I want to stay here in Jerusalem.

Right where I saw Stephen die, I want to stay here. Where his blood was spilled and where his life was taken out, I want to take his place, Lord. And for Stephen, I want to preach, and for Stephen, I want to live. And where Stephen died, I want to die. And my sermon that I prepared this morning was this: Paul’s offering of his life to God for somebody else. For Stephen, Lord, you see it there in the passage.

I was consenting unto his death and engineered his martyrdom. Lord, I want to stay where he stayed. I want to speak for him. And I want to live for him. And that was my appeal to you this morning. For somebody else, for somebody else, would you come down that aisle? Would you?

Pastor, one of us belongs to one church and one of us belongs to another church. For the sake of him, would you come? For the sake of her, would you come? Would you put your homes together for her sake, for his sake? Would you do it today?

Pastor, we have these children here. Here I come. For their sake, would you come? Somebody here today who belongs to the church. As I walked over here, one of our blessed women said, “There’s two young men here today. One is not a Christian and one belongs to another church.”

If the one that belongs to another church could come, the other will follow behind him. For his sake, would you come? And for the sake of the lost world all around us, would you come? Would you come?

Here I am, Preacher. Here I am, Pastor. I give my heart to God and my life in the fellowship of this church. I want God to use me and bless me in my life and reach others for him. Would you do it today? Would you do it today? While we sing this song, in that topmost balcony, from side to side, all around, anywhere, somebody, you. A mother, her children. A family or you. A child, one somebody, you.

Here I come, Pastor, taking the Lord as my savior or coming into the fellowship of this church. Anywhere. While we sing this appeal and while we pray today, would you make it now? Would you make it now?

While we stand and while we sing.