Logo for: Trinity Episcopal Church

Becoming Living Stones, by The Rev. Dr. Donald L. Hamer, Rector

Posted on

Trinity Episcopal Church

Easter 5 – 2017

May 14, 2017

“Becoming Living Stones”

Acts 7:55-60; 1 Peter 2: 1-10

           This morning our first three lessons from the Book of Acts, the Psalm and 1st Peter each feature stones – literally or figuratively --  as central to the text. While the images are used differently in each, they all point to the power of God and, in Acts and 1st Peter, -- the power of the resurrected Christ. Together they form a useful groundwork for us to understand the development of the early church and from that, appropriate these new understandings to ourselves and our own situation in the 21st century.

          The martyrdom of St. Stephen is the topic of the passage from Acts. St. Stephen was among the first Christian Deacons, and the first one to be martyred. In the death of Stephen – told in the short span of 6 verses, we see reflections of Jesus’ own death and in that, what develops as one of the themes of the Book of Acts: That this young Jesus movement, this offshoot of Judaism, will be persecuted and challenged at every turn by the religious and secular authorities, but not only in spite of it, but perhaps because of that persecution, those challenges -- it flourishes and spreads.

          Look at the parallels Acts draws between St. Stephen’s death and Jesus’ own death. On three occasions, Stephen speaks, and in each one of them his words echo those of Jesus:

n When he is arrested, Jesus is taunted before the chief priests and scribes in the hope that he will commit blasphemy. In the same way, Stephen’s persecutors bring forward false witness in the hope that he will blaspheme. Instead, he looks up in the sky and exclaims in verse 56: “Look, I see the heavens opened and the Son of Man s at the right hand of God!

n Just as Jesus says from the cross, Father, into your hands I commend my spirit (Luke 23:46), Stephen says, Lord Jesus, receive my spirit. (Acts 7:59).

n Just before Jesus dies, he cries out from the cross, Father forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing. (Luke 23:24). Similarly, St. Stephen cries out, Lord, do not hold this sin against them. (Acts 7:60).

There are other similarities that point to Stephen’s death as a new development in this young Jesus movement. Stephen’s response to death is similar to that of Jesus’ – prayerful self giving in the face of unspeakable cruelty. Like the Good News proclaimed by Jesus, the spiritual change for which Stephen  is arguing in the previous two chapters is too much for those to whom he is speaking. It sparks fear in them, and as with the message of Jesus, the violence that leads to Stephen’s death grows out of that fear. It is so strong that they cannot bear to listen to it – they close their ears to what he is saying, shutting out his words even as they raise their voices and rush against him with their own roar, stifling both his testimony and taking away his life.

And yet, in his own death Stephen gives voice once again to the miracle of the resurrection: That despite adversity – yes, even in the face of death –  the power of the ever-living God, the ever-loving God, is stronger and prevails over all of the adverse forces of the world trying to stop it or pervert it.

We see that theme also in the First Letter of Peter, who is writing to no particular Christian community – unike Paul – but rather to a number of communities generally in the area now known as Turkey. These communities were being persecuted by the Roman authorities and had probably been banished from their homeland – they are often referred to as “exiles” in the letter. In response to this situation, the author seeks to boost the spirits of Jesus’ followers by emphasizing that they are indeed part of a community – the community of the faithful in the Body of Christ. Being disenfranchised in civil society, made to feel like they are nobody important, those who were hearing this letter must have found the letter’s words comforting. But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. . . Once you were not a people, but now you are God’s own people. (1 Peter 2:10).

When I read this passage I am reminded of what the prophet Ezekiel describes in Chapter 37  about the Valley of the Dry Bones. You will recall in that story how God sets the mortal before a valley that is filled with bones, the lifeless residue of what were once living, breathing bodies. The mortal wonders if and how they can ever be brought to life, and to his surprise, God tells the mortal, “You can bring them to life. Prophesy to the bones.” The mortal, being clueless, nonetheless follows the instructions, and behold, the bones slowly come together, and gradually sinews grow on them, and flesh comes upon them, and skin covered them. But there is something missing: Still, there was no life in them. They needed spirit, or breath (ruach) in the Hebrew Bible. And with the Lord’s urging, the mortal invokes breath to come from the four winds upon those that were dead, that they may live. And sure enough, the breath comes into the bodies, and they live, and stand on their feet, forming a vast multitude.  The scene concludes with the Lord addressing this vast multitude with the words, O my people, I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil, then you shall know that I, the Lord, have spoken and will act, says the Lord.

As with Ezekiel’s dry bones, 1st Peter is reminding us that being filled with the Spirit is essential to our relationship with each other and with God. Long for the pure spiritual milk, the passage begins, and take it in like infants, so that we can grow in the salvation to which the risen Christ calls us.

You get the definite sense here of growth and development – not a static state of being, but a dynamic movement that is ever changing. And then he uses another image – the image of the risen Christ as a “living stone.” But how does a stone grow? Isn’t a rock the quintessence of something that is inert and lifeless?

In the passage from Acts, they are used as weapons of destruction to hurt and to kill Stephen. But in Psalm 31, they are used as a symbol of strength and fortitude in the Lord ( “Be a rock of refuge for me . . . You indeed are my rock and my fortress, for your name’s sake lead me and guide me . . . (31”:2b. 3).

Ad so it is in First Peter. But Peter uses this rather odd image of rocks that grow and evolve, and he applies the term not only to Jesus the Christ, but to us, his followers, as well. When I think of a living stone I have this image of those stalactites and stalagmites you find in caves, that grow over time with the mineral deposits dripping over them. And maybe that’s not a bad image for us. Stalactites are those pointy outgrowths of calcite that form on the ceilings of caves. As water drips down, it slowly deposits the minerals on the side of the stalactite, making it grow ever-downward to a skinny point. If water continues to drip off the stalactite and onto the floor, it, too, begins to develop what is known as a stalagmite, which grows from the ground up.

Now stay with me here, because this sounds a little weird. But just like those stalactites and stalagmites that grow with the constant nurture of the minerals, so 1st  Peter is saying that we as followers of the risen Jesus can grow into that holy priesthood that Peter envisions. But in order to experience that growth, we first need to understand that we are but spiritual infants, in need of pure, spiritual milk to nurture us into healthy, mature Christians.

On this mother’s day, the idea of all of us needing “pure spiritual milk” is especially meaningful. The mother of a newborn has milk to offer, but it takes a partnership of the mother and the infant to make what seems to be a natural process really work. While the infant instinctively has an inclination to search for the breast,  it often takes the guidance of the mother to find the right place, to suck hard enough for the milk to flow yet not wear themselves out in the effort. In the first weeks of life, mother and child must work together to find the rhythm that makes this work for them.

But we can’t do it ourselves! Look what the passage says: “Come to him, a living stone . . . AND LIKE LIVING STONES LET YOURSELVES BE BULT INTO A SPIRITUAL HOUSE. What does this NOT say? It does NOT tell us to build a spiritual house. It tells us TO ALLOW OURSELVES TO BE BUILT INTO A SPIRITUAL HOUSE.

What’s the difference? The first one is OUR work – our planning, our resources, our design, our materials. The second one is God’s work into which Jesus invites us to be partners.  The first one is something that we do. The second one is something Jesus, through the power of the Holy Spirit, is doing with us.

On this 5th Sunday after Easter, our lessons remind us of the power of the Resurrected Christ and that while this power is God’s free gift to us, we need to open ourselves, like infants, to be nurtured and fed with that spiritual milk that nurtures us into spiritual maturity. As with the development of the stalactites and the stalagmites, it may be a slow process, but it is steady, sure and the work of a lifetime. But it is the only way that we can grow into “Christ’s chosen race, Christ’s royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, in order that we may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called us out of darkness into God’s marvelous light. AMEN.


There are 1 callout(s)

God is Calling

It is God who calls us together into a community of faith. It is not a random happenstance: God calls us to our location on Asylum Hill as the spiritual base from which we live out our call to minister in Jesus' name.

Worship with Us