Nobody asked
about Stephen.
Paul got one shot to tell his story to the crowd that wanted him dead, and he brought up the worst thing he ever did.
Have you ever had a memory you can't forget? Not something done to you. Something you did.
That was the question Garrette Milliken brought into Acts 22. He called it "the memory of what has been." Then he opened the text on Paul standing on the steps of a Roman fortress, beaten, with a mob underneath him.
On the
steps
A crowd at the temple had dragged Paul out and was beating him when Roman soldiers carried him off toward the fortress. On the way up, Paul asked for a word. He spoke to the crowd in their own language, and they went quiet.
Brothers and esteemed fathers, listen to me as I offer my defense.
Acts 22:1, NLT
These are the people who just beat him. Garrette pointed out what Paul could have said instead: "Well, let me just say my peace, you worthless, low down, sapsucking dogs." He didn't. "There are times in your life where you will have to honor those who have hurt you."
The part he
could have skipped
Then Paul told his story. Born in Tarsus. Trained in Jerusalem under Gamaliel. A Pharisee who was sure he was pleasing God, right up until a light hit him on the road to Damascus and a voice called his name.
That's the part of the story people like to tell. Garrette named the part they skip. "We leave out the parts of our story that make us look the worst." He included himself: "If I shared my testimony with you today, you would want a new pastor next Sunday."
Paul didn't skip it. Standing in front of the crowd that wanted him dead, he brought up Stephen.
And when your witness Stephen was killed, I was standing there in complete agreement. I kept the coats they took off when they stoned him.
Acts 22:20, NLT
Years after the light and the voice, Stephen was still there. Garrette believes Paul thought about it every night.
Yours has them too. The places you know are forgiven but still feel heavy. The parts you've never told anybody.
"The miracle of God is this," Garrette said. "God knew about Paul's Stephen and he still called him to the work." When Paul told the crowd that work was among the Gentiles, they erupted.
Forgiven the
first time
Garrette told on himself here. A long time ago, as a Christian who knew better, he did something he regretted. For months afterward he kept asking God to forgive him. "Please forgive me. Please forgive me." Then he felt the Lord answer: "I don't know what you're talking about."
Some people are still asking for forgiveness they got the first time they asked. What keeps them asking is shame.
He has removed our sins as far from us as the east is from the west.
Psalm 103:12, NLT
He had a picture for it. Your neck turns, but not all the way around like an owl's. Look behind you too long and it starts to strain. "God did not make you to look that way very long."
Two goats
The day after this message, Jewish families would observe Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. Leviticus 16 lays it out with two goats. The first one is sacrificed. The second one is sent into the wilderness alive, carrying the people's sin with it, never to come back.
As the goat goes into the wilderness, it will carry all the people's sins upon itself into a desolate land.
Leviticus 16:22, NLT
Garrette said he had always taught Jesus as the first goat, the one who dies in our place. But Jesus is the second goat too. When John the Baptist saw Him coming, he didn't only say this was the Lamb who would pay.
Look! The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!
John 1:29, NLT
Takes it away. "You've only heard half the gospel," Garrette said. "Christianity is not just a forgiveness of debt. It's a removal of guilt." Jesus paid for your Stephen. Then He carried it off.
He doesn't
know what
you're talking about
Garrette closed without an altar call. He asked everyone to stay in their seats and let God do surgery on the places they can't forget. That part is worth hearing in his own voice.
Hope changes
everything.
When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.