Commentary - Acts 7:1-8

Bird's-eye view

In this opening section of his defense, Stephen is not so much defending himself as he is prosecuting his accusers. He does this by means of a masterfully selective history lesson. The charges against him were that he blasphemed Moses and God, and spoke against the temple and the law. In response, Stephen does not quibble over the charges directly. Rather, he begins a recital of Israel's history, starting with Abraham, in order to establish a number of foundational principles. The first is that God is "the God of glory," a transcendent and sovereign Lord who is not tied to any particular place, not even the Holy Land or the Temple. He appeared to Abraham in pagan Mesopotamia. Second, God's relationship with His people is based on promise and faith, not on physical possession of land or buildings. Abraham lived as a landless sojourner. Third, God's plan for His people has always included sojourning and suffering. And fourth, the covenant sign was circumcision, given centuries before the law of Moses or the Temple of Solomon. Stephen is laying the groundwork to demonstrate that his accusers have a cramped, provincial, and materialistic view of God, and that they, not he, are the ones out of step with the true story of Israel.

This is not a filibuster; it is a strategic retelling of their own sacred story to show them that they have consistently misunderstood it. He begins respectfully, but the entire speech is a slow-motion indictment, demonstrating that the pattern of Israel's rebellion against God's messengers has now culminated in their rejection of the Messiah. This first section sets the stage by establishing God's freedom and sovereignty over and against the Sanhedrin's localized and domesticated religion.

Outline

Context In Acts

Acts 7 contains the longest speech in the book of Acts, delivered by Stephen, one of the seven men appointed to serve the church in Jerusalem (Acts 6:5). He was a man "full of faith and of the Holy Spirit," and he performed great wonders and signs. His effective ministry provoked opposition from a group of Hellenistic Jews, who could not withstand his wisdom and Spirit. Unable to defeat him in debate, they resorted to slander, stirring up the people and bringing him before the Sanhedrin. The false charges were that Stephen spoke blasphemous words against Moses and God, and that he was constantly speaking against "this holy place and the Law" (Acts 6:11-14). Stephen's speech is his formal, legal defense before the highest court of the Jews. But it is far more than a defense. It is a proclamation of the gospel through the lens of Israel's history, demonstrating that God has always been on the move and that Israel has always been resistant to Him. This speech serves as a crucial turning point in Acts, providing the theological justification for the gospel's expansion beyond the confines of Jerusalem and traditional Judaism, a reality that would be set in motion by the persecution that erupted following Stephen's martyrdom.

Key Issues

A History Lesson for the Hard of Hearing

When a man is on trial for his life, we expect him to talk about himself, to defend his actions, to plead his case. Stephen does none of that. The high priest asks him a direct question, "Are these things so?" and Stephen answers by starting a story with, "In the beginning..." Well, not quite, but close. He goes back to Abraham. This is a brilliant strategy, orchestrated by the Holy Spirit. He is not accepting their terms of debate. They want to argue about the Temple, a building. Stephen wants to talk about God, the Builder. They are focused on a tiny plot of land; Stephen wants to talk about the God of all glory who fills heaven and earth.

He is seizing the narrative. He is saying, "You think this story is about you, and this place, and your traditions. You are mistaken. Let me tell you the story as it actually happened." By retelling their history, he is demonstrating that he is the true conservative, the one who actually understands the Scriptures, while they are the radicals who have abandoned the faith of their fathers for a religion of brick and mortar. Every point he makes about Abraham, Joseph, and Moses will be a subtle but sharp jab at the men sitting in judgment of him.

Verse by Verse Commentary

1 And the high priest said, “Are these things so?”

The trial begins formally. The high priest, likely Caiaphas, puts the charges to Stephen. The question is simple: are you guilty as charged? The accusations, as we saw in the previous chapter, were serious and inflammatory: blasphemy against Moses, God, the Temple, and the Law. This question is the legal trigger for Stephen's defense.

2-3 And he said, “Hear me, brothers and fathers! The God of glory appeared to our father Abraham when he was in Mesopotamia, before he lived in Haran, and said to him, ‘LEAVE YOUR COUNTRY AND YOUR RELATIVES, AND COME INTO THE LAND THAT I WILL SHOW YOU.’

Stephen begins respectfully, addressing the council as brothers and fathers. But his first theological statement is a bombshell. He speaks of the God of glory. This is not the tame, localized deity of the Temple cult. This is the sovereign Lord of all the earth. And where did this God appear? Not in Jerusalem. Not even in the promised land. He appeared to Abraham in Mesopotamia, the heart of paganism. God takes the initiative, and He does it outside the camp. Before Abraham had done anything righteous, before there was a covenant, a law, a temple, or a nation, the God of glory simply appeared. Stephen's starting point is divine, sovereign grace. Furthermore, he makes a point of noting this was before Haran, correcting a common assumption. The call of God is radical from the outset: leave everything that defines you, your land and your family, and go, based on nothing more than God's bare promise.

4 Then he left the land of the Chaldeans and settled in Haran. From there, after his father died, God had him move to this country in which you are now living.

Stephen faithfully recounts the history. Abraham obeyed, but his obedience was initially incomplete. He left Ur, but then settled in Haran with his father, Terah, who was an idolater (Josh. 24:2). It was only after his father died, after the final tie to his old life was severed, that God moved him into the land of promise. There is a lesson here about the necessity of a clean break. But for Stephen's main argument, the point is the agency: God had him move. God is the one directing this entire drama. Abraham is the instrument of a divine purpose that is much larger than himself.

5 But He gave him no inheritance in it, not even a foot of ground, and He promised that HE WOULD GIVE IT TO HIM AS A POSSESSION, AND TO HIS SEED AFTER HIM, even when he had no child.

This is a devastating point against a Temple-centric religion. The great patriarch Abraham, the father of their nation, lived his entire life in the promised land as a landless alien. He did not own one square inch of it, save a tomb he had to purchase. His connection to the land was not by deed, but by promise. God promised to give it to him, a promise that seemed absurd on two counts. First, he didn't own it. Second, he didn't have a son to inherit it. Stephen is teaching the Sanhedrin a fundamental lesson: the life of faith is about trusting God's future promise over your present reality. Their faith, by contrast, was in what they currently possessed: the land, the city, the Temple. They were trusting in the gift, while Abraham trusted in the Giver.

6-7 But God spoke in this way, that his SEED WOULD BE SOJOURNERS IN A FOREIGN LAND, AND THAT THEY WOULD BE ENSLAVED AND MISTREATED FOR FOUR HUNDRED YEARS. ‘AND I MYSELF WILL JUDGE THE NATION TO WHICH THEY WILL BE ENSLAVED,’ said God, ‘AND AFTER THAT THEY WILL COME OUT AND SERVE ME IN THIS PLACE.’

The promise gets even stranger. Before the possession of the land, there must be a long period of suffering. Sojourning, slavery, and mistreatment are not an interruption of God's plan; they are God's plan. This is another crucial blow to the triumphalistic nationalism of his hearers. They thought that because they were God's people, they should be free from oppression. Stephen reminds them that suffering has always been central to the experience of God's people on their way to redemption. But suffering is not the final word. God promises two things: He will judge the oppressor nation, and He will bring His people out for the purpose of worship. The goal of the exodus is not real estate, but right worship: that they might serve Me in this place.

8 And He gave him the covenant of circumcision; and so Abraham was the father of Isaac, and circumcised him on the eighth day; and Isaac was the father of Jacob, and Jacob of the twelve patriarchs.

What did Abraham have, then, if not land or a temple? He had a covenant and a sign. God gave him the covenant of circumcision, a bloody mark in the flesh that set him and his descendants apart as God's own people. This was the tangible anchor of their faith. This sign was given hundreds of years before the Law of Moses, and over a thousand years before the Temple of Solomon. Stephen is systematically deconstructing their priorities. They prized the Temple and the Law, but Stephen is reminding them that the foundational covenant was one of sheer promise, signified by circumcision. He then quickly traces the patriarchal lineage, from Abraham to Isaac to Jacob to the twelve patriarchs, demonstrating that he is no enemy of their history. He knows their story, and he is about to show them how it all points to Jesus.

Application

Stephen's defense is a powerful antidote to a domesticated Christianity. The temptation for every generation of believers is to build a comfortable container for God, to associate His presence with a particular building, a style of worship, a political arrangement, or a cultural tradition. We want to settle in Haran. We want to own the deed to the promised land. We want a God we can manage.

Stephen reminds us that the God of glory cannot be managed. He is a God on the move, a missionary God who shows up in pagan Mesopotamia. He calls us out of our comfort zones. He gives us promises that look impossible from our vantage point. He ordains paths of suffering and sojourning on the way to glory. Our security is not to be found in any place or possession, but only in His covenant promise. The church is always tempted to trust in its temples, its budgets, its political influence, its traditions. Stephen calls us back to a radical, Abrahamic faith, a faith that holds loosely to the things of this world while clinging tightly to the Word of the God who promises a city to come.

We must ask ourselves if our faith is in the God of glory, or in the glory of our religion. Is our trust in the Giver, or in His gifts? Are we willing to follow Him when He calls us away from what is familiar and secure? Stephen's testimony, for which he would shortly die, challenges us to embrace the God who cannot be contained and to live as sojourners and exiles, looking for the city whose builder and maker is God.