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Acts 7:55-60; May 3, 2026; Fifth Sunday of Easter

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The very next verse reads: “And Saul approved of their killing him.” – Acts 8:1

Of their killing him.

And yet, “at the feet of this young man named Saul… Stephen knelt down and cried out, ‘do not hold this against them.’” – Acts 7:58-60

Wow! These are the last words this man says. Do not hold this against them. Even though “them” were stoning and killing him. Stephen is the first of Jesus disciples to give his life in witness of the gospel and it’s just astonishing, isn’t it?

I mean, his last words were not: judge them; burn them; condemn them. But instead, do not hold this against them. Wow.

Now, being fair, in the verses right before ours that you did not hear (Acts 7:51-53), Stephen doesn’t miss the opportunity to lay into them. He calls them “stiff-necked people with uncircumcised ears and hearts” (which is really quite the image and line) comparing them to their ancient ancestors who erected a golden calf turning their backs on God.

Harsh and direct, though not deserving of death (much like a talk-show host’s remarks shouldn’t lead to licensing threats), Stephen willfully chooses to ruffle their feathers which leads to his ultimate demise.

A violent demise at that. Yet, even still, his very last words are a prayer to God to not hold their sin against them. Again, I say, wow!

Now, the cynic among us might think: “well, this is all likely an embellishment. Luke, the author of Acts, simply wanted to tell a better story and to draw a direct parallel from Stephen to Christ. I mean, who could actually forgive someone as they are being mutilated by them?”

Great question. But, you know, I once took a class at Princeton called “Forgiviness and Reconciliation” where we read stories and watched videos of families who would go to the execution chamber in protest of the death penalty, advocating for leniency for the perpetrator who had murdered their loved one.

Like you, all of us in the class wondered “how could they do that?” And almost every time the reasoning these families gave was: the gospel. Having faith in a truth that says it’s better not to hold sin against others, lest that sin also hold you down the rest of your life.

Perhaps in your own life you have experienced this. Or had it done for you. Where someone has turned the other cheek and left you to wonder, “just how are you forgiving me right now?”

It’s powerful, isn’t it? Even more so because we all know that forgiveness doesn’t come easy. But that it often requires tables, and crosses, and long arduous journeys, zigzagging towards reconciliation.

And speaking of long, arduous journeys, has anyone here ever seen the movie, “The Straight Story”?

Yeah, that’s what I figured. I mean, it came out recently…like, TWENTY-SEVEN years ago recently…so I get that you probably haven’t been afforded the time to see it yet. But good news, it’s on Disney+ right now. Hulu too, I think. So, the excuses run thin, my friends.

It has Sissy Spacek, the late-great Richard Farnsworth, and it was directed by the great-also-late David Lynch. Yes, that same David Lynch responsible for “Eraserhead”, “Blue Velvet”, and the crazy but brilliant “Twin Peaks”.

But “The Straight Story” is something else entirely. For one, it’s rated-G. It’s produced by Disney. And is downright pretty, sweet, and funny, including a treasure trove of Christian themes and allusions. It’s quite the opposite of anything Lynch has ever made, and I think it’s by far his best work. And Rotten Tomatoes agrees with me, so there!

There’s this great line where Farnsworth’s character, the 73-year-old Alvin Straight, is asked by a college student, “What’s the hardest thing about growing old?” And Straight responds, “Remembering when you was young.”

And ah, how true that is!

Which is fitting because “The Straight Story” is also true, closely based on the real story of Alvin Straight, who amazingly rode his riding mower over 100 miles, across state lines, highways and bridges, all to get to his brother Henry who had suffered a stroke, and who wasn’t on speaking terms due to an argument they had several years prior.

Joel, please put that picture up for everyone.

Yup, there he is. Alvin Straight and his brother Henry. And also, the actor Richard Farnsworth, on the infamous riding mower, there on the highway.

The story goes like this (thanks to Wikipedia for the brief but straight-forward synopsis):

In June 1994, Alvin’s 80-year-old brother Henry suffered a stroke. And at the age of 73 and in poor health himself from diabetes and emphysema, Alvin could not see well enough for a driver’s license; and so, short on money, he decided his only option to see and make amends with his brother was to travel on his 1966 John Deere riding lawn mower, which raced at the cool pace of FIVE miles per hour.

Five!

And after traveling 111 miles going 5, his lawn mower ultimately breaks down (for the second time, mind you), just 2 miles from his brother’s house (which says something, I think, about the long road of forgiveness and that sometimes we get so close but remain so far away).

But in a story full of Good Samaritans, a farmer sees that Alvin is in disrepair and he helps push him, and the mower, the rest of the way.

Now, when Alvin finally arrives at Henry’s house (a full six weeks later) Henry (known as Lyle in the movie) immediately notices his shocking mode of transportation and he asks him if he really rode that thing all the way out there just to see him. Alvin takes a big breath in and acknowledges that he did; and with tears swelling in both of their eyes, Lynch fades the scene away with the brothers both looking upwards to Heaven.

100+ miles, 6+weeks, and a John Deere riding mower, all to repair a relationship. To forgive a brother and to receive forgiveness in return. So that all animosity and sin would no longer be held against one another.

Isn’t that just amazing, my friends? The gospel!

Sadly, the actor who played Alvin, Richard Farnsworth, died by suicide a year after the movie released. He shot himself after suffering from terminal bone cancer, which had left him in severe pain and partially paralyzed, which he battled through the film’s production.

And the reason I tell you this is because I believe God forgives that too. For the core value of the gospel is liberation from all pain and suffering, where all are promised a place where one day there will be no more crying, and no more pain, for all the former things will be passed away.

And those former things are not just our bodies, or our fractured relationships, but also and forever our sin.

For returning one last time to our scripture from earlier, it was Saul after all who cheers on Stephen’s death. Who had coats laid at his feet as he and others dragged Stephen into the square to stone him.

And yet, it was this very same Saul who later became Paul. Yes, that Paul. Our Paul, who would write letters that would shape the content of our faith 2,000 years later.

Isn’t it amazing, my friends, that most of the Psalms are written by an adulterer named David, that most of the New Testament is written by an accomplice to murder named Saul, and that our salvation is procured by a Savior who was convicted of being a criminal to be executed on a cross.

It all says something, I think. About a lot of things. But especially, about the power of forgiveness. And how God can redeem even the most broken of us.

So let it be. Amen.

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