Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit · Sermon No. 2948
“And cast him out of the city, and stoned him; and the witnesses laid down their clothes at a young man’s feet, whose name was Saul.” Acts 7:58.
THE Holy Spirit does not tell us much about the deaths of saints at any time and He says very little about the deaths of the martyrs. He gives us much more about Stephen—the first of them—than about any other. A few words are made to suffice for the death of James, the brother of John. As to the deaths of Peter and Paul, they are incidentally mentioned as yet to be, but we have no account of them whatever. I suppose there was no need and the Holy Spirit never gives us superfluous information. There were hundreds of years to come in which martyrologies might be written and the Lord has taken care that there should be eye-witnesses with ready pens to record the deaths of martyrs. Hence we have many volumes and, especially in our own country, the renowned Acts and Monuments of John Foxe which record how, through seas of blood, the martyrs swam to their crowns! The noble army of martyrs has never been without a chronicler and there was no need that the Holy Spirit should give us the details of the deaths of the witnesses for Christ because we should have plenty in another form.
And it is noteworthy that in this one, which is the fullest we have, there is nothing said about the sufferings of Stephen. Have you not had your feelings harrowed by descriptions of the burnings in the reign of Queen Mary—how the wood was slowly lighted. How, sometimes, the martyrs actually cried out, “For pity’s sake, give us more fire!” And how they writhed in agony and yet cried out, “None but Jesus”? Such details may be very proper, but I think that they minister to our sentiment rather than to our edification. The Holy Spirit takes a different line and tells of the triumph of the martyr, of the light which shone upon his face, of the vision which he beheld, which cheered his spirit, and of the blessed calm which came over him as Jesus rose up, rebuked the winds and waves that gathered around his boat, so that the martyr entered into the Port of Peace in a perfect calm. I believe that every incident which is recorded is intended for our profit—but it is not always profitable to have sensational descriptions which upsets one’s feelings. There is something better than that, namely, to teach us the true source of strength and to guide us to a Heavenly calm, come what may.
However, in this instance, the Holy Spirit was pleased to direct the pen of Luke to record that the witnesses laid down their clothes at the feet of a young man named Saul. According to the Jewish Law, the witnesses were bound to be the first throwers of the stones. They were, in fact, the leading executioners, for they gave evidence against the accused and on their witness, he was condemned to death. They had to take the responsibility of his death and to throw the first stones. In order to do this, they took off their long flowing robes and, casting them down, they left them in the charge of one who would appear to have been much delighted with the death of Stephen, as he had probably given his vote against him in the Sanhedrin and was looking on to see that the dreadful murder was fully accomplished. Now, why is it recorded that these witnesses laid down their clothes at the feet of the young man whose name was Saul? It was not to gratify our curiosity, but it was doubtless for some good reason—so let us try to find out why it is recorded and learn some lessons from it—God helping us.
I. And, first, does not the Holy Spirit here suggest to us A VERY NOTEWORTHY CONTRAST?
Here are two men—Stephen and Saul—both in Heaven now. I wonder how they felt when they first met there? What joy they must both have had—Stephen to see Saul and Saul to see Stephen! I suppose it is incompatible with the
Heavenly state for Saul to have any apologies to make, but, certainly, if they could have been indulged in there, he might have made them most lovingly and tenderly. The joy of meeting there must have been exceedingly great. Look at the two men—the one about to die and the other taking care of the clothes of the executioners. Let us do them justice.
They were both sincere men. There was no hypocrisy about Stephen. You could see that the words that he spoke came warm from his heart. Neither was there any hypocrisy about Saul. He really thought that he was doing God’s service in what he did. He was quite as sincere, in his own way, as was the martyr who was about to die. What is more, they were both thoroughly earnest men. It was not in the nature of Stephen to quench his convictions, or to silence his testimony. Neither was it in the nature of Saul to keep quiet when he thought that a miserable imposter ought to be crushed out of existence. He is all on fire from the first moment when we meet him to the last record we have concerning him. He had a zeal for God, though not according to knowledge and, as he sat there, and took care of the executioners’ garments, he felt in his conscience perfectly satisfied that what he was doing was for the glory of God. Sometimes we cannot understand how this could be, yet I do not doubt that many who have persecuted the saints of God, have done it ignorantly in unbelief and it has not struck them that they were really rebelling against the Most High and fighting against the Lord, Himself. It is very difficult to estimate the amount of darkness that may come over the human conscience and to imagine how blind a man may become, or how fully he may put bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter— but certain it is that an unrenewed heart may become as darkened that while we are going posthaste to Hell, we may imagine that we are making good headway towards Heaven! These two men, Stephen and Saul, were unlike one another in many respects, but they were alike in this sense—that they were both sincere and both thoroughgoing in their sincerity.