AN IMITATION OF CHRIST
Good morning Family!
Today is Palm Sunday.
Today marks the beginning of Holy Week—the final week of Jesus’ life which leads us to the cross, to the tomb, and ultimately, to the joy of the resurrection.
Now, I know we just heard a reading of the triumphal entry—Jesus, riding into Jerusalem on a donkey. The crowds are cheering, waving palm branches, laying down coats, welcoming Him like a King who brings peace.
And you might be thinking, ‘Wait—aren’t we still in Acts?’ We are. In fact, today we’re in Acts 6 and 7. Which explains a bit why we didn’t start our reading here this morning. There’s a lot there. These are full chapters. They are full of life. The life and character of Stephen. A faithful servant. A bold preacher. And the first martyr of the Church.
So, Acts 6 and 7? The triumphal entry? What’s Stephen got to do with it?
At first glance, not much. These seem like two very different and disparate stories. But don’t be too quick to separate them. The more you look, the more these two moments—yes, removed by time and space—but they share a deep theological connection. Stephen’s life, even though it only spans two chapters, reflects the larger story of Jesus and His mission, only in a much more compressed format. The more you look, the more you realize that Stephen’s life and ultimately his death mirror Jesus—the suffering servant.
Stephen, like Jesus, is accused of blasphemy, speaking against God and the temple. “13 The lying witnesses said, ‘This man is always speaking against the holy Temple and against the law of Moses. 14 We have heard him say that this Jesus of Nazareth will destroy the Temple and change the customs Moses handed down to us.’” (Acts 6:13-14). In the Gospels, Jesus is accused of claiming he would destroy the temple and rebuild it in three days (Matthew 26:61).
They are both brought before the Sanhedrin to stand trial.
Stephen, like Jesus, prays for his persecutors, saying, “Lord, don’t charge them with this sin!” (Acts 7:60), which mirrors Jesus' prayer, “Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they are doing.” (Luke 23:34).
In that same breath of Stephen's final words, he prayed, “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit,” (Acts 7:59) which again directly echoes Jesus' words on the cross, “Father, I entrust my spirit into your hands!” And with those words he breathed his last. (Luke 23:46).
And again… Well, I’m getting ahead of myself.
There are so, so many ways in which Stephen is presented to be an imitation of Christ in His life and in His death and in the powerful witness that flows out from that death. We talked last week about what it means to follow Jesus. Now we get it demonstrated for us. You want to know what the good life is—look at Stephen! You want to know what it’s like to follow Jesus? Look at Stephen. You want to know what is human flourishing? It might not be what you expect, but I can tell you where to look. Here let’s connect some dots…
WE FLOURISH AS WE SERVE
Acts 6 begins with a moment of crisis: “as the believers rapidly multiplied, there were rumblings of discontent. The Greek-speaking believers complained about the Hebrew-speaking believers, saying that their widows were being discriminated against in the daily distribution of food.”
“2 So the Twelve called a meeting of all the believers. They said, “We apostles should spend our time teaching the word of God, not running a food program. 3 And so, brothers, select seven men who are well respected and are full of the Spirit and wisdom. We will give them this responsibility. 4 Then we apostles can spend our time in prayer and teaching the word.” (Acts 6:1-4)
Crisis: Greek widows are being overlooked.
Okay, now, slow down, we’re not meant to see the apostles as being callous at this moment. Ignoring the needy for the sake of preaching. Who do you think was taking care of the widows before this complaint? Probably the apostles. They were most likely overseeing meal distribution and then it simply became too much because, “the believers rapidly multiplied…” It was too much for them to handle.
So the Spirit led the Church to respond with justice—not with silence or nationalism—but with justice and compassion. I know this might be pretty nerdy, but the seven men chosen as these first deacons (servants) all have Greek names. So not only are the widows fed, but those who are appointed to an official position of authority in the Church are also of the same group of Hellenistic, Greek speaking Jews who had been traditionally marginalized by the rest of Judaism until Jesus came along and tore down these socio-economic walls.
Stephen is chosen to serve. This story starts off by taking care of widows and through it paints a picture of human flourishing as God’s children serve one another. We flourish as we learn to serve. This is the life and character of Stephen which he drew from his Savior.
Human flourishing begins with servanthood—with embracing God's heart for: the vulnerable, for racial reconciliation, and for the nations. If we look at how God answers the prayer to “give us today our daily bread”, He answers it through the Church–through us.
The Village Church in Dallas Texas begins every year in January (as we all do) with a series entitled “The Creator’s Heart”—a yearly rhythm that grounds them in God’s design for human flourishing. And every year, they focus on the same three things: the value of every human life, the beauty of ethnic harmony, and God’s desire for the nations.
It's a series that at its core is all about service. Laying down your life for others. Lifting others up. Choosing love over self. Justice over comfort. Humility over pride. The core of human flourishing is service. A defining characteristic of Jesus’s life is service.
The King of Kings didn’t come to be served, but to serve. That’s not a metaphor—that’s how He actually lived. Jesus consistently took the lowest place. He touched lepers. He dined with sinners. He washed the feet of His disciples—even the one who would betray Him. He came riding on a donkey in full submission to the Father, not to take power, but to lay it down on the cross.
When His followers argued over who was the greatest, Jesus didn’t rebuke their ambition—He redefined it. He said, “26 But among you it will be different. Those who are the greatest among you should take the lowest rank, and the leader should be like a servant” (Luke 22:26). This is the paradox of the Kingdom: Those who serve are the ones who shine. Those who kneel are the ones who stand tallest in God’s eyes. Those who lay down their lives are the ones who truly live.
Every day, I make coffee for my coworkers. Not because I love coffee—I actually don’t like it at all (as many of you know). It’s gross. I don’t even like the smell. Michelle made the first cup of coffee that didn’t trigger an immediate involuntary reaction of disgust in my face, and that’s the best I’ve got for coffee. I don’t do it because I enjoy it or because it fuels me—I do it to serve them. I get to the office early, and while it’s still quiet, I make the coffee so that when everyone else arrives, it’s already there. Most of them won’t even notice who made it, and that’s fine. It’s not about getting credit—it’s about showing love in small, consistent ways.
That’s what service often looks like. It’s not glamorous. It’s not convenient. It’s not always noticed. But it reflects Jesus. Stephen didn’t serve widows because he had nothing better to do. We serve in our skills and our passions. But we also serve where there is a need. Jesus uses the word slave. We make ourselves slaves. That’s the position we take.
As we move to Easter there are going to be several people, perhaps a multitude of people—who walk into our gathering without a relationship with Jesus. They’re showing up searching, skeptical, hurting, or just curious. And here’s the thing: The way you interact with them… The way you serve them next Sunday… That will preach louder than any sermon.
Most people decide within the first seven minutes whether they’ll come back. That’s before the music starts. Before they hear me utter a single word. They’ve already made up their minds based on how they were loved. Whether someone made eye contact, said hello, made space, smiled, noticed them. Let’s not miss that moment. Because for someone, that moment could change everything.
So,the core of human flourishing is service. Let me ask you—what are the ways you can step into that? In your day-to-day rhythms? In your workplace? In your family? In your neighborhood? How can you contribute to the flourishing of others in the way you serve?
FLOURISHING IS NOT WHAT YOU'D EXPECT
But here’s the twist. Because the moment we say "flourishing," most of us picture something different. We imagine comfort. Success. We imagine safety. A life where things are going well. Let’s name the lie. We believe flourishing equals comfort, success, and safety. We have certain expectations. But what if that’s not the kind of flourishing God has in mind?
When Jesus rode into Jerusalem, the crowds had expectations. They had an image in their minds of what the good life looked like—victory. National pride. Political freedom. A king who would overthrow Rome and make Israel great again.
But Jesus doesn’t give them that. He is a king but with a different kind of kingdom. A throne not in the physical world so to speak, but over the world, over time and space. He’s not interested in playing by our rules of power. He redefines what flourishing looks like. And He does it by laying down His life.
When we look at Stephen… flourishing looks a bit different.
FAITHFULNESS IN OBSCURITY
It looks like faithfulness in obscurity. Before Acts 6, nobody had heard of Stephen. He’s not one of the Twelve. He’s just a regular guy, like you and me. We’re pretty normal I guess. He’s faithful in the quiet things—serving tables, helping widows, doing the unseen, unglamorous work of love.
When Stephen finally steps into the spotlight in Acts 7, it’s not because he chased recognition. It’s because he’s full of the Spirit. “Full of God’s grace and power, [who] performed amazing miracles and signs among the people.” And when men showed up to debate it says, “10 None of them could stand against the wisdom and the Spirit with which Stephen spoke.” (Acts 6:8, 10)
The result of Stephen’s life was that “many of the Jewish priests were converted…” (Acts 6:7). It was this faithfulness that changed lives that brought him to the attention of these accusers. Quite faithfulness in obscurity. Something else he picked up from his Savior.
The world says flourishing looks like money and attention—being flashy. Throughout His life, Jesus was relentlessly faithful—but rarely flashy. Over and over again, He told people not to broadcast His miracles, not to tell others who He was. He wasn’t chasing crowds or attention; He was chasing the will of the Father. Jesus never traveled far from the region where He was raised. He never held political office. He never led an army. He didn’t write a book (well—He kind of did). Even by the end, many of His followers had walked away. But none of that was the goal. His eyes were fixed on the cross. His gaze was locked on the mission. His purpose was redemption. That’s the heart of faithfulness in obscurity—living fully into God’s call, even when no one notices. Especially when no one notices.
TRUTH AND LOVE
In Stephen, flourishing looks like truth and love.
You know that verse in Ephesians chapter 4, “15 Instead, we will speak the truth in love, growing in every way more and more like Christ, who is the head of his body, the church.” (Ephesians 4:15).
I don’t know if you’re anything like me. I tend to get the “in love” part wrong.
Stephen was kind and many were brought into the family. But when it came down to it, he didn’t shy away from boldly proclaiming gospel truth. Stephen preaches the longest sermon in the New Testament. And some of you think I talk for a long time.
In this sermon, he makes two main points: (1) Israel always resisted the prophets. And (2) the law can’t save you because you’ve never been able to keep it and it can’t give you a new heart which you so desperately need. He says, 51 “You stiff-necked people! Your hearts and ears are still uncircumcised. You are just like your ancestors: You always resist the Holy Spirit! 52 Was there ever a prophet your ancestors did not persecute? They even killed those who predicted the coming of the Righteous One. And now you have betrayed and murdered him— 53 you who have received the law that was given through angels but have not obeyed it” (Acts 7:51-53). He doesn’t hold back the truth.
Christians are a contradiction to the world. We are called to hold truth and grace in the same breath. That’s not easy. The world tends to demand one or the other. Fundamentalism shouts truth without love—sentimentality whispers love without truth. But Jesus? Jesus embodies both.
Jesus is the one who looked out over the city of Jerusalem—the very city that would reject Him, betray Him, crucify Him—and He wept. He wept because they didn’t see it. They didn’t know what was right in front of them. They didn’t recognize Him. He didn’t ride in with judgment in His eyes; He rode in with tears on His face. He came full of grace and truth.
Jesus spoke boldly. He challenged the temple system. He confronted injustice. But never without love. Never without compassion. And if we want to be faithful witnesses—if we want to show the world what real flourishing looks like—we need that same Spirit. A Spirit that says hard things with a soft heart. That calls sin what it is while still weeping over our city.
You’re never going to get the world’s approval if you follow Jesus. Stephen didn’t. Jesus didn’t. He wasn’t popular for long. The same crowd that shouted "Hosanna!" shouted "Crucify him!" five days later. Why? Because Jesus didn’t fit their categories. He was too bold for the religious, too gracious for the powerful. Too truthful. Too compassionate.
If you follow Jesus—really follow Him—you will confuse people. You’ll frustrate some. You’ll comfort others in a way they’ve never known. Because its truth and love held together.
LIGHT OF THE WORLD
Stephen isn’t just bold—he’s radiant. Acts 6 says that as the council looked at him, “his face was like the face of an angel.” (Acts 6:15).
Stephen's “flourishing” looks like failure to the world—he’s arrested, falsely accused, and killed. But Acts shows him shining bright with grace, power, wisdom, and the Spirit. He’s the image of someone fully alive in God’s purposes. He’s positively glowing. That’s what it looks like when someone is so full of the Spirit that even the weight of death can’t dim the light of Jesus shining through them.
There’s this verse that I am reminded of with Stephen’s life. It’s written by Paul years later. Paul was there by the way. As the people dragged Stephen outside the city and picked up their stones it says, “His accusers took off their coats and laid them at the feet of a young man named Saul” (Acts 7:58). This is before he became the apostle formerly known as Saul. As the people pile up their coats and pick up their stones Paul is there nodding with approval.
I wonder if he thought of Stephen’s face as he wrote this to the Philippian Church, “14 Do all things without grumbling or disputing, 15 that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world…” (Philippians 2:14-15)
I wonder if Paul ever thought about Stephen’s face after his conversion—if he ever reflected on what he saw that day. Because what Paul saw that day wasn’t just a man dying—it was a man radiating the presence of Christ. A man full of grace. A man who looked up and saw glory. A man who prayed for his enemies, including Paul himself.
That’s what Stephen did. And what Paul would later recognize as the true picture of human flourishing—not success by the world’s standards, but flourishing in the presence of Christ, even in suffering.
Flourishing isn’t just about comfort or success. It’s about being faithful to God’s calling, about radiating His love and truth, even when it costs. Stephen’s death didn’t signify failure—it showed the world a life fully lived for God, a life that shined like a light in the darkness. And that’s the kind of flourishing Jesus invites us into.
Sometimes, God's will for us involves suffering—even martyrdom. Stephen’s story, sadly, ends with his death, and we may never fully understand why. But I can tell you two powerful results that came from his sacrifice. First, we'll explore Paul’s conversion in a couple of weeks, but it’s hard to imagine Stephen’s death didn’t play some role in Paul's own encounter with Jesus on the road to Damascus.
But there’s another result: the Church didn’t die with Stephen. It exploded. The persecution that began with Stephen’s death didn’t crush the Church; it scattered the believers, and the gospel spread across the globe. From Jerusalem, it reached far beyond to places like India and China—not just Rome or the West. The Church grew in ways no one could have imagined. While Paul was bearing witness in Rome, the apostle Thomas, doubting Thomas, was planting churches in India. Isn’t that crazy!
It reminds me of Tertullian’s famous words: “The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church.” Like a grain of wheat falling to the ground, it seems to die—but it multiplies, bearing fruit far beyond what we can see (John 12:24).
WHERE IS YOUR GAZE?
The sermons you preach as you suffer will speak volumes more than those in times of blessing. And here’s the crazy part—Stephen didn’t die with his eyes on the pain or the injustice. He died with his eyes on Jesus.
In the middle of the chaos, Stephen looked up and saw Jesus, standing at the right hand of God. It says, “55 Stephen gazed steadily into heaven and saw the glory of God, and he saw Jesus standing in the place of honor at God’s right hand. 56 And he told them, “Look, I see the heavens opened and the Son of Man standing in the place of honor at God’s right hand!” (Acts 7:55-56).
Stephen sees glory. He sees welcome. You remember “Cool Runnings”? I see pride! I see power!
Almost everywhere else in the New Testament, Jesus is described as sitting at the right hand of God. Mark 16:19… Hebrews 1:3… Hebrews 10:12 – “...He sat down at the right hand of God, waiting from that time until his enemies should be made a footstool for his feet.”
This is the only place in the New Testament where Jesus is described as standing at God’s right hand. And that is significant. Jesus sits as a judge. Jesus stands to receive Stephen. He stands almost as a lawyer arguing Stephen's case—an advocate. Psalm 119 says, "Argue my case; take my side! Protect my life as you promised." (Psalm 119:154). Jesus says in Matthew 10:32, “Whoever acknowledges me before others, I will also acknowledge before my Father in heaven.”
On Palm Sunday the crowds welcome Jesus in as a king but here we see the King of kings welcoming in His good and faithful servant. This is the kind of flourishing we’re called to. Not a fleeting moment of praise from the crowd, But an eternity of welcome from the King.
So let me ask you: Where is your gaze?
What kind of human flourishing are you chasing? The kind the crowds cheered for—comfort, power, popularity? Or the kind that Stephen shows us—a life marked by service, and faithfulness, and truth, and love, even when it costs everything.
Where we’re looking shapes our reality. Do we look for comfort, power, control? Or do we look to the One who welcomes us into true life?
What kind of human flourishing are you after?
Where is your gaze?
We need eyes that see the welcoming King.
OUTRO
Stephen’s story isn’t a tragic footnote. It’s a window into the kingdom Jesus was always bringing. Not a kingdom of worldly flourishing—comfort and safety. But one of Spirit-filled love, truth, service, and glory.
Resources (*the views expressed within the following content are solely the author's and may not necessarily reflect the opinions and beliefs of Mountainside Church):
Midtown Downtown (Acts Series)
Village Church (Creator's Heart)
Phone: (828) 202-9143
Email: hello@mcboone.com