Stephen is being murdered, and instead of cursing his killers, he says: 'Lord, do not hold this sin against them.' That's the moment I realized Christianity isn't about niceness. It's about something deeper—a fundamental reorientation of the will. Stephen chose forgiveness while stones were breaking his body.
I grew up in Northern Ireland, in a community shaped by decades of violence. My grandfather was killed by paramilitaries. My family had every reason to seek revenge. But my grandmother—a quiet, faithful woman—refused to let hatred become her legacy. She raised my mother to forgive. Now I'm raising my children the same way. We remember the injustice. We don't pretend it didn't happen. But we don't build our futures on revenge.
Stephen's prayer as he died became the prayer of the earliest church. It shaped how they responded to persecution. It's a form of spiritual resistance that's more powerful than violence. When you refuse to hate your enemy even while they're killing you, you've broken their power over you. That's what Stephen teaches us. Not pacifism as weakness, but forgiveness as strength.
No comments yet. Be the first.