The Standing Ovation: How a Christian Dies Text: Acts 7:54-60
Introduction: Two Hostile Kingdoms
We come now to the bloody conclusion of the first great sermon of the Christian church, preached not by an apostle, but by a deacon full of the Holy Ghost. Stephen has just finished his masterful and devastating survey of Israel's history, and his point was not subtle. He held up a mirror to the Sanhedrin, the ruling council of the Jews, and showed them their family portrait. And what a portrait it was. From Joseph to Moses to all the prophets, the pattern was one of consistent, stiff-necked rebellion against God's appointed messengers. And then Stephen brought it home, pointing his finger squarely at them and saying, in effect, "You are the culmination of it all. You are the preeminent rebels. You murdered the Messiah."
Now, when the unadulterated truth of God collides with the pride of sinful men, you do not get a polite debate. You get a spiritual explosion. What we witness here is the raw, violent collision of two kingdoms. On one side, you have the kingdom of this world, represented by the religious establishment. It is a kingdom fueled by rage, self-righteousness, and a desperate, ear-plugging refusal to hear the truth. On the other side, you have the kingdom of God, represented by one man, Stephen. His kingdom is characterized by a Spirit-filled calm, a heavenly vision, and a radical, Christ-like love for his own murderers.
This is not just an interesting historical event. This is a paradigm. This is a case study in what it looks like when the gospel is faithfully proclaimed and what it looks like when a believer faces the ultimate opposition. This is a lesson in how to die well, which is only possible if you have first learned how to live well. And it is a profound demonstration of the absolute sovereignty of God, who turns the most grotesque acts of human evil into the very means of His glorious triumph.
The Text
Now when they heard this, they became furious in their hearts, and they began gnashing their teeth at him.
But being full of the Holy Spirit, he gazed intently into heaven and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God;
and he said, "Behold, I see the heavens opened up and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God."
But crying out with a loud voice, they covered their ears and rushed at him with one accord.
And when they had driven him out of the city, they began stoning him; and the witnesses laid aside their garments at the feet of a young man named Saul.
They went on stoning Stephen as he was calling out and saying, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit!"
Then falling on his knees, he cried out with a loud voice, "Lord, do not hold this sin against them!" And having said this, he fell asleep.
(Acts 7:54-60 LSB)
The Rage of the Exposed (v. 54)
We begin with the reaction of the Sanhedrin.
"Now when they heard this, they became furious in their hearts, and they began gnashing their teeth at him." (Acts 7:54)
The Greek here is visceral. They were "cut to the heart." This is not intellectual disagreement. This is the screeching rage of a cornered animal. The gnashing of teeth is biblical language for the impotent fury of the damned. It is the sound of Hell. Why such a violent reaction? Because Stephen's sermon was true, and truth, when it confronts a heart committed to a lie, does one of two things: it either breaks the heart in repentance or it hardens it into a murderous rage. There is no middle ground.
These men were the religious elite. Their entire identity was built on the foundation of their own righteousness. They were the gatekeepers of God, the arbiters of holiness. And Stephen, a mere deacon, had just shown them that their entire system was a sham. He had exposed their pious exterior and revealed the rotten, rebellious core. They were not lovers of God; they were the latest in a long line of God-haters. And for this, they wanted to kill him. The gospel is not a tame message. It does not come to pat us on the back. It comes to kill our pride, and if we refuse to let our pride die, we will try to kill the messenger instead.
The Vision of the Vindicated (v. 55-56)
In stark contrast to the demonic fury of the council, we see the supernatural peace of Stephen.
"But being full of the Holy Spirit, he gazed intently into heaven and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God; and he said, 'Behold, I see the heavens opened up and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God.'" (Acts 7:55-56 LSB)
Notice the source of his strength: he was "full of the Holy Spirit." He was not operating on his own grit or courage. He was filled with the very life of God. And because he was filled with the Spirit, his focus was not horizontal, on the snarling faces of his accusers. His focus was vertical. He "gazed intently into heaven." He was looking at a higher court, a greater reality.
And what does he see? He sees the ultimate verdict. He sees "the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God." This is a scene of ultimate vindication. But there is a crucial detail here. Jesus is standing. Throughout the New Testament, the resurrected Christ is described as seated at the right hand of the Father (Hebrews 1:3, Colossians 3:1). His seated posture signifies that His work of atonement is finished, complete. So why is He standing now? He is standing to honor His servant. He is rising from His throne to welcome the first martyr of the new covenant home. It is a heavenly standing ovation. He is standing as Stephen's advocate, his witness, his defender. The earthly court was condemning Stephen, but the heavenly court was giving him a hero's welcome.
And Stephen, with his last breaths, rubs their noses in it. He calls Jesus the "Son of Man," a direct reference to Daniel 7, a title of supreme divine authority. This was the very claim for which they had crucified Jesus. Stephen is saying, "You thought you got rid of Him? You didn't. He is alive, He is in charge, and I see Him right now, ruling from the command deck of the universe."
The Frenzy of the Faithless (v. 57-58)
This heavenly declaration pushes the council over the edge.
"But crying out with a loud voice, they covered their ears and rushed at him with one accord. And when they had driven him out of the city, they began stoning him; and the witnesses laid aside their garments at the feet of a young man named Saul." (Acts 7:57-58 LSB)
This is the posture of terminal unbelief. They scream to drown out the truth, and they literally plug their ears. They cannot stand the light. This is a perfect picture of a fallen world. It does not want to hear that Jesus is Lord. It will do anything to silence that message. They become a mindless, unified mob, and they drag him outside the city to kill him, just as they had done to his Master.
And here, Luke, the masterful historian guided by the Holy Spirit, zooms in on a small detail. The witnesses, who were required by law to cast the first stones, lay their coats at the feet of "a young man named Saul." Here he is. The arch-persecutor, the chief of sinners, holding the coats, giving his hearty approval to this murder. In the midst of this satanic frenzy, God is sovereignly setting the stage. He is pointing His finger at the man who would become the apostle Paul. The blood of the first martyr is watering the ground for the conversion of the church's greatest missionary. God is playing chess while His enemies are playing checkers.
The Grace of the Martyr (v. 59-60)
The final scene is one of breathtaking, supernatural grace.
"They went on stoning Stephen as he was calling out and saying, 'Lord Jesus, receive my spirit!' Then falling on his knees, he cried out with a loud voice, 'Lord, do not hold this sin against them!' And having said this, he fell asleep." (Acts 7:59-60 LSB)
As the rocks are crushing his body, Stephen does two things. First, he commends his spirit to his Savior. He says, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit!" This is a direct echo of Christ on the cross ("Father, into your hands I commit my spirit"). Stephen knows that to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord. Death is not a leap into the dark; it is a step into the arms of Jesus.
Second, he kneels and prays for his own murderers. "Lord, do not hold this sin against them!" This is the pinnacle of Christian virtue, and it is utterly supernatural. This is not some weak, sentimental pacifism. This is the robust, muscular grace of the gospel in action. He is echoing his Lord's prayer from the cross: "Father, forgive them." He sees his killers not as enemies to be hated, but as wretched sinners to be pitied, men who desperately need the same grace that he has received. This kind of love is the ultimate apologetic. It is the irrefutable proof of a heart transformed by the Holy Spirit.
And how does his story end? "He fell asleep." For the Christian, death has been defanged. The sting is gone. It is not an end, but a nap. It is a peaceful rest in the arms of Jesus, awaiting the great waking up on resurrection day. Stephen did not die as a victim; he died as a conqueror, full of the Spirit, with a vision of his King, and with a prayer of forgiveness on his lips.
Conclusion: The Victorious Seed
It is a maxim of church history that the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church. Stephen's death looks like a tragic defeat. The first great preacher of the church is cut down. The enemies of the gospel appear to have won. But God was not surprised. God was not wringing His hands.
This death was a great victory. Stephen's prayer was answered. Who was the primary recipient of that prayer, "Lord, do not hold this sin against them"? It was the coat-holder. It was Saul of Tarsus. In a short time, the risen Christ would knock Saul off his high horse on the road to Damascus, and the light that Stephen saw would blind the man who approved his murder. The church lost a great deacon, but it gained the apostle to the Gentiles.
This is the pattern for us. We are called to bear witness to the truth, without compromise, even if it makes the world gnash its teeth. We are called to live with our eyes fixed on the heavenly reality, on the King who is standing for us. And we are called to love our enemies, to pray for those who persecute us, because we know that God is sovereign, and the most hardened sinner can be transformed by His grace. Stephen's death was not an end. It was a planting. And the harvest, which continues to this day, is glorious.