Acts 7
Living Like Stephen: Holding to Truth When the World Shakes
The Power of a Story Well-Known
As we reflect on Acts 7, we’re struck not just by the intensity of the moment—Stephen standing before the Sanhedrin, falsely accused, facing death—but by his remarkable clarity and courage. What gave him such composure in the face of outrage and violence? For us, the answer seems simple yet profound: Stephen knew the story. Deeply. Personally. Holistically.
He didn't just memorize facts. He had internalized the biblical narrative from Abraham to Jesus. Like Daniel navigating Babylonian indoctrination centuries before him, Stephen held to the truth by knowing the truth. In a world swirling with competing narratives—ancient myths, cultural pressures, power plays—Stephen held onto the reality of God’s unfolding plan.
We’re reminded how vital it is that we, too, know the story. Not just for trivia night, but for our formation. When we’re immersed in truth, we can discern falsehood. When we’re saturated in Scripture, we’re not as easily swept away by the tides of culture.
Courage Rooted in the Spirit
Stephen’s courage wasn’t bravado—it was Spirit-filled clarity. In Acts 6, we’re told he was “full of grace and power” and that people couldn’t refute the “wisdom and the Spirit with which he was speaking.” That sounds familiar, doesn’t it? It echoes Jesus Himself.
We see Stephen standing there—not arguing, not flinching, not compromising—but proclaiming truth with grace. He confronts the religious leaders, not with rage, but with conviction: “You stiff-necked people…you always resist the Holy Spirit.” (Acts 7:51)
What stands out is that Stephen wasn’t aiming to be offensive. He was aiming to be faithful. And sometimes, being faithful will offend. But the glow on his face (Acts 6:15), like Moses before him and Jesus at the transfiguration, shows us where his eyes were fixed—on the glory of God, not the fury of men.
Faithfulness That Bears Fruit Beyond Us
One detail that can’t be overlooked: Saul was there. Holding coats. Approving of Stephen’s death. And yet, this man—who watched Stephen’s bold faith up close—would become Paul, writer of much of the New Testament and the greatest missionary in Christian history.
We can’t predict what our faithfulness might ignite in others. Stephen’s death looked like defeat, but it was a seed that led to transformation. The story of the early church teaches us this again and again: persecution is not the end. It’s often the beginning.
So if we’re in a season where it feels like the world is unraveling, take heart. The church often thrives most under pressure. Our calling is not to make things easy—it’s to make Jesus known.
Where Is Our Gaze Fixed?
Stephen’s face shone because he was looking at Jesus. Literally. Scripture tells us that as stones were hurled at him, Stephen saw “the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God.” (Acts 7:56)
Where we fix our gaze shapes our response. Too often, we’re staring at our circumstances—our stress, our disappointments, our critics—rather than fixing our eyes on Jesus. The result? We live shadowed by fear instead of glowing with faith.
So let’s ask ourselves: when life shakes, when we feel squeezed, what comes out of us? Do we know the Word well enough that it rises in us like it did in Stephen? Are we walking close enough with the Spirit that grace and power flow from our lives?
Let’s be a people who not only know the story of God but live like we believe it. A people who sound like Jesus, reflect Jesus, and point others toward Jesus—even when it costs us everything.
Because like Stephen, we’re not alone. God is with us. Always. And that changes everything.
