Finished with engines

Click below to listen to the sermon being preached:

You stiff-necked people [of East Kilbride], uncircumcised in heart and ears, you always resist the Holy Spirit. As your fathers did, so do you. Which of the prophets did your fathers not persecute? (Acts 7. 51-52)

I think that, if I began or ended my sermon today with these words, addressed at you, I would likely not find myself invited back to preach to you again! And yet it is with these words that the great Stephen ended his sermon to the council and the High Priest. We can see, in ch 6 that Stephen had been performing “great wonders and signs among the people” (6. 8), and that these signs and Stephen’s success in disputation led the elders and scribes to haul him before the Council. There, facing the High Priest, Stephen begins his impassioned sermon that would ultimately cost his life.

We know very little of Stephen. His first mention comes earlier in chapter 6, where the Apostles are choosing their first Deacons. While the Apostles were busy going about the work of teaching and preaching, they had become conscious that their ministry of mercy had been neglected. As they themselves said, “It is not right that we should give up the preaching of the Word to serve tables.” (6. 2), so seven men were chosen as Deacons of the Church, to perform the proper ministry of that office. Seven men were chosen, each of whom (we can assume) fulfilled the criteria set down in 1 Timothy:

[They were to be]… dignified, not double-tongued, not addicted to much wine, not greedy for dishonest gain. They must hold the mystery of the faith with a clear conscience… Let deacons each be the husband of one wife, managing their children and their own households well. For those who serve well as deacons gain a good standing for themselves and also great confidence of the faith that is in Christ Jesus. (1 Tim. 3. 8-13)

Among these seven men, we find Stephen, a man already described as “full of faith and of the Holy Spirit” (6. 5), and he and his colleagues were duly ordained and set aside to this work.

We don’t know how much serving of tables Stephen performed, but we are told that he soon was performing signs and wonders among the people (even though a preaching and teaching ministry was not the specific ministry he was set aside to: a helpful reminder to us that we may have been set aside for one ministry, but God is not bound by the works of man, and what we are called to today may not be the same as what we were called to yesterday). These acts, as we see, led his opponents to extreme measures. JB Philips translates/paraphrases it thus:

… they bribed men to allege, “We have heard this man making blasphemous statements against Moses and against God.” They worked on the feelings of the people, the elders and the scribes. Then they suddenly confronted Stephen, seized him and marched him off before the Sanhedrin. There they put up false witnesses to say, “This man’s speeches are one long attack directed against this holy place and the Law. 1

Stephen’s defence, therefore, is an historical account of the history of the people of Israel, culminating with the lines with which I began my sermon, and which Phillips paraphrases as “You are the men who have received the very Law of God miraculously, by the hand of angels, and you are the men who have disobeyed it.”2

It is clear that, just as Stephen is “not careful of life”,3 that is, not so desperate to hold onto life that he holds back on speaking the truth, it is also clear that Stephen’s true words had a real affect on his hearers. Plumptre explains that not only did these words offend their hearers, but that the hearers “were sawn through and through”.4 This pang of conscience produced not the repentance that we may have expected or desired, but an anger so intense that they actually gnashed their teeth. Here, surely, is one of the only occasions where this phrase “ground their teeth” (7. 54) is used literally and not figuratively. We see it in other places throughout Scripture (including but not limited to Matthew 8. 12 and 9. 42), but here it is made clear that their anger was such that firmly biting down was all they could do to avoid crying out. And, indeed, only a few verses later, this is indeed what they did. In a scene reminiscent of something from Braveheart, we read that Stephen’s opponents “cried out with a loud voice, and stopped their ears and rushed together at him.” (7. 57). We can assume, as does Drummelow, that the men covered their ears because they believed Stephen was speaking blasphemy,5 and yet it appears that this was the limit of their restraint.

Let us note how here, even in comparison to that other infamous New Testament botched trial (that of the Lord Jesus), the cruelty and savage actions on the part of the witnesses. At Our Lord’s trial, we found Jesus slapped for daring to answer back to the High Priest (Matt. 26. 67), and we found the Romans mocking Jesus with the purple robe and the crown of thorns (Matt. 27. 27ff), but at least Jesus was offered some semblance of a trial. At least his execution was carried out in the inhumane, clinical (yet at least technically above-board) method the Romans were so good at. Here, Stephen is challenged, he answers back, and within a few verses he is dead. Their anger, the rage, the spite – you can almost imagine his murderers foaming at the mouth – knew no limits.

And yet, in the face of this anger, rage and spite, indeed even as the stones themselves rained down upon him, we do not hear Stephen crying out, we do not read him calling for mercy, nor shouting out in terror. Instead we see him engaging yet more with his Friend and Lord: “receive my spirit” and “do not hold this sin against them.” (7. 59 and 60)

What faith Stephen must have had. What a personal relationship he must have enjoyed with Jesus his Saviour and Master. For as mankind did its worst to this young man of God, Stephen simply continued in his prayer life.

We would do well to note that this description of Stephen as “full of the Holy Spirit” (7. 55) is just how we first encountered him in 6. 8 – this shows us that Stephen was not just full of the Spirit on his last day on earth. He was not specially filled by the Spirit to see him through his last hours (although the Holy Spirit undoubtedly did this too), but rather Stephen enjoyed the presence of the Spirit with him throughout his ministry and Christian life. In death, as in life, Stephen was interested only in the Lord Jesus. What a wonderful example to follow.

And just as Stephen was interested only in the Lord Jesus, we can also see something interesting in Jesus’ response to all that was going on. For Stephen, looking up to heaven, declared that he saw “the heavens opened, and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God.” (7. 56)

Standing at the right hand of God… This is not what we would have expected Stephen to see. Even if he had seen Jesus, other places in Scripture make it clear that Christ’s ascended position is to sit at God’s right hand, and there to rule with Him for ever. We see this in Colossians 3, where we are instructed to “seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God.” (Col. 3. 1) This is a description also used by the Lord Jesus Himself (see Matt. 26. 64) and elsewhere in the New Testament (Eph. 1. 20 and Heb. 8. 1).

And yet Stephen is clear. Indeed the text says standing not once, but twice. There is to be no doubt in our minds that Jesus was not just sitting by when all of this was going on. No friends: this throne, in which we are told Christ will sit for all eternity, would not do when His friend is suffering the torments of mankind down below. For in Stephen’s moment of agony, his own sacrifice, Jesus Himself rose from His eternal throne to bring comfort to Stephen and welcome him into eternal life.

Let us let this sink in for a moment. Those of you who, like me, are interested in pomp and ceremony, will know that the monarch (for example) does not rise and stand for anyone. Rather, in the old fashioned images, we see the monarch sitting on his/her throne, with people standing before them. For the monarch to stand up would be to show the other person an immense honour. For the Lord Jesus to stand up from his throne for Stephen is akin to the father hitching up his robes and running out to meet his wayward son (Luke 15. 20) – it is a sign of the love and respect that Jesus had for Stephen. And what a comfort, what a wonderful sight it must have been for Stephen. He knew what was to come, he knew the short term pain he would endure, and yet he also knew the joy that was before him in glory.

We can but imagine the moment where, after breathing his last breath on this earth, Stephen looks around himself to find himself no longer among the baying mob of first century Jerusalem, and instead in the eternal presence of God Himself: in the heaven to which he had been looking forward, and which he’d seen a snapshot of in his final minutes on earth. Let us imagine the hush that must have fallen, as Jesus (who until this point had been seated next to God, enjoying the praises of the whole company of heaven) stood up to welcome His faithful son and friend Stephen into eternal life. As Stephen walked among the people, his head still dripping with blood, his face covered in the spittle of his persecutors, his clothes torn by the mob, he approaches Jesus who turns to him with a smile and says, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant.” (Matt. 25. 21 KJV) Let us imagine the applause that will have thundered across heaven, as the saints and angels, the whole company of the redeemed, acknowledged the ordeal which poor Stephen had undergone, and welcomed him into his eternal home. And while Stephen’s lifeless body was defiled and mutilated by the mob down on earth, Stephen’s eternal soul was enjoying blest union with his Father.

We read that, after he died, “Devout men buried Stephen and made great lamentation over him” (8. 2), and this was right and just – a fitting tribute to a man that they loved and lost – but let’s not imagine for a moment that there were tears in heaven, for Stephen had taken his place among those who Christ had redeemed, and one day he would be joined by the devout men and women who have followed Christ down through the centuries: those whose lives were cut short in martyrdom, and those whose lives ended naturally after being born again in Christ.

We all have people, I am sure, who we are desperate to see once we reach heaven. Perhaps people who we let down when on earth, perhaps people we want to thank for their kindness or their witness or their ministry. I wonder sometimes whether the first person, after Jesus, that Paul sought out was Stephen the Martyr. Perhaps Paul, who let’s not forget “approved” of Stephen’s murder(8. 2), sought out Stephen to seek his forgiveness. What blest communion Stephen and Paul must have enjoyed. With what wander must Stephen have looked down upon Paul’s ministry. Who knows, perhaps as Saul himself looked up to heaven and heard Jesus’ voice calling him (9. 5), Stephen was standing next to Jesus full of excitement to see what his former persecutor would do next.

Those of you who, like me, enjoy being out on the water, may already know that when a Captain retired from the Merchant Navy, he would (in the days before automation was the watchword) often have taken a job as Harbourmaster in some port or another. Here he would have lived out his final days in the dry and the warm, remembering those great storms in which he and his crew once sailed, and welcome fellow seamen into port so that they themselves could seek comfort and shelter from the elements. The Harbourmaster would be able to relate intimately with the sailors as they spoke of the squalls, as they told of the boat rocking from side to side, or the perils of this rock or that iceberg, and the fruitless plying for trade in the ocean, for he had experienced it himself. He would have been interested to hear their tales, and perhaps ready to impart some wisdom to his younger friends. And when they set sail to leave port, they would go and do what once he had done. The welcome that people coming into port received was great because the retired Captain knew all too well what the sea could throw at sailors.

In Hebrews 2, we see a very similar picture. For (in the beautiful language of the Authorised Version) we can read that “It became Him [God], for whom are all things, and by whom are all things, in bringing many sons to glory, to make the captain of their salvation perfect through sufferings.” (Heb. 2. 10, KJV) The comfort in this world, and the welcome in the next, that Jesus gave Stephen, was in no small part because He Himself had endured all this (and more) when He walked the earth. And, having experienced it Himself, knew exactly how it felt. He knew that Stephen needed the vision of heaven to see him through his final minutes on earth, and like the genial harbourmaster, was only too ready to welcome the weary sailor into his eternal harbour, for his eternal rest.

The late Prof. Macleod, when writing about Psalm 23 (the great Psalm telling us of God’s relationship with His sheep), says:

… when we as Christians sing this Psalm, we do so, not only with the light of the Old Testament, but also in the light of the New, and especially in the brilliant light of the Incarnation. In Jesus, the Lord our Shepherd has taken our human nature, lived among us, shared our experiences, and personally walked the Narrow Way. He is thus able to feel with us in all our weaknesses and to understand every trial we have to go through (Heb. 4. 15). Nothing that was human was alien to Him.

This is why in Revelation 7. 17, we have the remarkable picture of the church, the flock of Christ, being shepherded by a lamb: ‘The Lamb in the midst of the throne will be their shepherd’ (ESV). The flock can never say, ‘He has no feeling for us. He has no idea what it’s like to be a sheep.’ On the contrary, He is like us in every way (Heb. 2. 17): not only in the sense that He has personal experience of our natural human limitations, but that He spared Himself none of the stresses and pressures that mark the lives of His ‘friends’ (John 15. 13).6

Those of you who have ever watched the film Titanic, or have been about the Royal Yacht Britannia in Edinburgh, or indeed have any experience whatsoever in the world of sailing, will also have seen the ship’s bell telegraph. This is the highly polished item on the bridge, with which the Captain communicates with the engine room. It has various positions, and a needle that points at them. As the position is set, a bell rings, directing the stokers to see what their new instructions are. The final position that this telegraph would be put into, once the ship is safely berthed in harbour, is ‘Finished with engines’. This would tell the stokers and the engineers that they could safely power down the huge engines that powered the boat, for all was at rest. We can see, I hope, without pushing the metaphor too far, how as Stephen found himself in the company of heaven, being welcomed by his heavenly Harbourmaster, the telegraph was set to ‘Finished’ – just as Christ Himself cried “It is finished!” (John 19. 30) Stephen’s life’s work was over, and he could enjoy the promised eternity of his Lord and Master.

So what can we take from this extraordinary account of the first Christian martyr? What can we understand? What, if you like, is the takeaway pitch? What was it that Luke, in writing the Acts, wanted us to know? I believe that Luke wanted us to see what happened when Stephen offered up his life for the sake of the Gospel, that he wanted us to see how Jesus cared for his servant Stephen, and how even in those last moments of anguish, offered comfort for his soul. Luke also shows us that, whatever sacrifice or ministry we are called to, we are never called to something that Christ Himself did not do, or would not have done, for us. He never expects more of us than He was prepared to give Himself. As the retired Captain, Jesus can understand the trials we go through, the pain we endure, because He experienced all of that and more when He was here among us. And just as He can empathise with our sufferings in His Name, Jesus is ready to welcome us home as He did with Stephen as his eyes closed in sleep.

One day, friends, when our life’s work is ended and we are called back to the bosom of our Creator, we will see Jesus Christ Himself standing at the right hand of God, welcoming us home. And whether our faces are bloodied and bruised from the onslaught of the enemies of Christianity, or whether we have died peacefully in our sleep surrounded by those who love us dearly, as we slip our ship’s telegraph into that final position of ‘Finished with engines’, we will look up at Jesus and see His beaming smile welcoming us home, as we hear the words that every Christian longs to hear “Well done, thou good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord” (Matt. 25. 21, KJV)

Works cited: • Dummelow, J. R., ed. A Commentary on the Holy Bible. London: MacMillan and Co. Ltd., 1946. • Macleod, Donald. Faith Undaunted: Embracing Faith and Knowledge in a Post-Truth Era. Great Britain: Christian Focus Publications Ltd., 2022. • Phillips, J. B. The Young Church in Action. London: Geoffrey Bles, 1955. • The Rev. E. H. Plumptre DD et al. ‘Acts to Galatians’. In A Bible Commentary for English Readers by Various Writers, edited by Charles John Ellicott, Vol. 7. London: Cassell and Co., n.d.

  1. J. B. Phillips, The Young Church in Action (London: Geoffrey Bles, 1955), 93. 

  2. Ibid., 98 Emphasis my own. 

  3. J. R. Dummelow, ed., A Commentary on the Holy Bible (London: MacMillan and Co. Ltd., 1946), 828. 

  4. The Rev. E. H. Plumptre DD et al, ‘Acts to Galatians’, in A Bible Commentary for English Readers by Various Writers, ed. Charles John Ellicott, vol. 7 (London: Cassell and Co., n.d.), 45. 

  5. Dummelow, A Commentary on the Holy Bible, 828. 

  6. Donald Macleod, Faith Undaunted: Embracing Faith and Knowledge in a Post-Truth Era (Great Britain: Christian Focus Publications Ltd., 2022), 154–55.