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Stephen’s Speech: A Bold Defense of the Faith and a Prophetic Indictment

Stephen steps onto the New Testament stage as a man “full of faith and of the Holy Spirit,” chosen to serve the body and soon called to speak before Israel’s leaders with a courage shaped by Scripture and the presence of Christ (Acts 6:5). His speech in Acts 7 is the longest in the book, a sweeping retelling of Israel’s history that becomes both a defense of the Gospel and a prophetic indictment of hardened hearts. He does not argue technicalities. He tells the truth about God’s faithfulness and the human pattern of resisting His messengers, and he names Jesus as the Righteous One whom the leaders betrayed and killed, while God vindicated Him by raising Him from the dead (Acts 7:52; Acts 2:32).

What happened in that chamber still speaks to the Church. Stephen announces that God’s presence is not confined to any building and that the Scriptures themselves point beyond the temple to the Messiah who fulfills the promises. His witness ends in stones and glory, and the Lord uses his death to scatter the Church so the word runs into Judea and Samaria as Jesus said it would (Acts 7:59–60; Acts 8:1–4; Acts 1:8). The moment is a turning point in Acts and a mirror for our own hearts.


Words: 3202 / Time to read: 16 minutes / Audio Podcast: 36 Minutes


Historical and Cultural Background

Luke first introduces Stephen in the context of a growing church learning to care for its people. As the number of disciples increased, Greek-speaking widows were being overlooked in the daily distribution. The apostles asked the congregation to choose men “known to be full of the Spirit and wisdom,” and seven were appointed so the word of God would not be neglected and the ministry of mercy would abound (Acts 6:1–4). Stephen emerges from that list “full of God’s grace and power,” doing great wonders and signs among the people, a testimony that the risen Christ was active through His servants (Acts 6:8).

Opposition arose from members of the Synagogue of the Freedmen, who began to argue with Stephen but “could not stand up against the wisdom the Spirit gave him as he spoke” (Acts 6:9–10). Unable to refute his message, they stirred up false witnesses who accused him of speaking “blasphemous words against Moses and against God,” charging that he had spoken “against this holy place and against the law” and that Jesus would destroy the temple and change the customs handed down by Moses (Acts 6:11–14). The charges were serious because the temple and the law stood at the heart of Israel’s covenant life. Yet even as the council looked intently at him, they saw that “his face was like the face of an angel,” a sign of God’s presence resting on him in the hour of trial (Acts 6:15).

The Sanhedrin itself sat where tradition, Scripture, and Roman occupation met. It was a real court with power to examine defendants and hand down judgments, though Rome reserved the final right of execution (John 18:31). Within that body ran old fault lines between Sadducees and Pharisees, a divide that would split open again when Paul later declared the hope of resurrection (Acts 23:6–8). Stephen’s moment stands within that contested world, but his message draws on a story larger than factional disputes. He narrates the faithfulness of the God of Abraham and the repeated resistance of leaders who would not bow to His word, insisting that “the Most High does not live in houses made by human hands” and calling the court to the very Scriptures they claimed to love (Acts 7:48; Isaiah 66:1–2).

Reading Stephen in a dispensational frame helps keep the pieces in place. God entrusted Israel with the oracles of God and a priestly, national administration under the law, and that stewardship was holy and good (Romans 3:1–2). Yet the law and the prophets aimed at Christ, and in the fullness of time the Son came, died, and rose, and the Spirit formed the Church as one new people in Him without erasing God’s future promises to Israel (Galatians 4:4–5; Ephesians 2:14–16; Romans 11:25–29). Stephen speaks at that hinge, honoring the past while announcing its fulfillment in Jesus.

Biblical Narrative

When asked by the high priest if the charges were true, Stephen began not with himself but with the God of glory who called Abraham while he was still in Mesopotamia, reminding his hearers that God’s saving initiative began outside the land and long before any temple rose in Jerusalem (Acts 7:1–3). God promised Abraham a land and descendants, gave him the covenant of circumcision, and affirmed that His presence and purpose do not depend on a building made by human hands but on His faithful word (Acts 7:4–8). By starting with Abraham’s call beyond Israel’s borders, Stephen quietly answered the charge about the temple. God is not bound to a place; He binds Himself to His promises.

He then turned to Joseph, “sold as a slave into Egypt,” yet “God was with him and rescued him from all his troubles,” granting him wisdom so that he became a deliverer for the very brothers who had rejected him (Acts 7:9–10). The pattern is plain: a chosen servant is rejected out of jealousy, but God exalts him for the salvation of those who spurned him (Acts 7:11–16). In Joseph’s story Stephen sets a shadow of Jesus, rejected by His own and raised by God for their salvation, a grace that reaches first to Israel and then to the nations (John 1:11–12; Acts 13:46–48).

Stephen dwells longest on Moses, the man through whom God delivered Israel and gave the law. He recalls how Moses was “educated in all the wisdom of the Egyptians” and was powerful in speech and action, yet when he tried to intervene for his brothers they pushed him away, saying, “Who made you ruler and judge over us?” (Acts 7:22–27). After forty years in Midian, the Lord appeared to Moses in the burning bush and sent him back as the very ruler and deliverer they had rejected, leading them out with wonders and signs (Acts 7:30–36). Stephen emphasizes that Moses “received living words to pass on to us,” and still the people refused to obey him, turning their hearts back to Egypt and making a calf in the wilderness, provoking God’s judgment (Acts 7:38–41).

From wilderness to worship, Stephen traces the tent of meeting through the generations until the days of David, who found favor with God and asked to provide a dwelling place, and then to Solomon, who built the temple (Acts 7:44–47). Yet the temple did not solve the heart’s drift. Stephen cites the prophet to press the point: “Heaven is my throne, and the earth is my footstool. What kind of house will you build for me? says the Lord. Or where will my resting place be? Has not my hand made all these things?” (Acts 7:49–50; Isaiah 66:1–2). God permitted a house for His name, but He never agreed to be confined within it. The holy of holies could not hold the Holy One.

At this point Stephen moves from history to confrontation. He declares that his hearers are “stiff-necked” with hearts and ears still uncircumcised, that they are “just like [their] ancestors” who always resisted the Holy Spirit, and that they had betrayed and murdered the Righteous One, the very Messiah the prophets announced (Acts 7:51–52). The accusation is not a sneer; it is a last appeal rooted in the pattern he has traced from Abraham onward. The court responds not with repentance but with rage, gnashing their teeth in fury (Acts 7:54).

Then heaven opens. Stephen, “full of the Holy Spirit,” gazes upward and says, “Look, I see heaven open and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God” (Acts 7:55–56). The title reaches back to Daniel’s vision of the human figure who receives everlasting dominion, and the posture—standing—conveys the presence and advocacy of the risen Lord for His suffering witness (Daniel 7:13–14). The council covers their ears, rushes him out of the city, and stones him. As the rocks fly, Stephen prays, “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit,” echoing his Master’s trust in the Father, and then, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them,” a prayer that mirrors the mercy of the crucified Christ and reveals the shape of a heart transformed by grace (Acts 7:59–60; Luke 23:46; Luke 23:34).

Luke notes that the witnesses laid their coats at the feet of a young man named Saul, and that Saul approved of Stephen’s death, a detail that becomes seed for future mercy when the risen Jesus meets Saul on the road and turns a persecutor into a herald (Acts 7:58; Acts 8:1; Acts 9:3–6). Stephen’s martyrdom becomes the spark for a wider mission. “On that day a great persecution broke out against the church in Jerusalem,” and scattered believers preached the word wherever they went, so that the message of Jesus moved outward just as the Lord promised it would—from Jerusalem to Judea and Samaria, and on toward the ends of the earth (Acts 8:1–4; Acts 1:8).

Theological Significance

Stephen’s message touches three great themes: the presence of God, the pattern of human resistance, and the person of Christ. First, he insists that God’s presence cannot be contained by a building, however sacred. Abraham met the God of glory outside the land; Joseph walked with God in Egypt; Moses encountered Him on holy ground in Midian; the tabernacle traveled; and the prophet declared that heaven is God’s throne and earth His footstool (Acts 7:2; Acts 7:9; Acts 7:30–33; Acts 7:44; Isaiah 66:1–2). The temple was a gift, but it was never a cage. The God who fills heaven and earth chose to dwell with His people by promise, and now, through Jesus, by the Spirit, He dwells in a people rather than in a room, making them a living temple in the Lord (Ephesians 2:19–22; 1 Corinthians 3:16).

Second, Stephen names the recurring pattern in Israel’s history: God raises up deliverers; people resist; God remains faithful. Joseph is rejected and then exalted; Moses is pushed away and then received; the prophets are persecuted; and at last the Righteous One is betrayed and murdered, yet God vindicates Him (Acts 7:9–10; Acts 7:27; Acts 7:52; Acts 2:32). This is not a smear on Israel as a people; it is a biblical confession of the human heart in every age. The same Scriptures that record rebellion also promise mercy, and Stephen’s indictment calls his hearers to the only hope that can break the cycle: repentance and faith in the risen Lord who pours out the Spirit on those who ask (Acts 3:19; Acts 2:38–39).

Third, Stephen testifies that Jesus is the goal of the story. He calls Him the Righteous One, the prophetic title that gathers the promises of a holy Servant who suffers and saves, and he sees Him as the Son of Man standing at God’s right hand, the enthroned Messiah whom God has made both Lord and Christ (Acts 7:52; Acts 7:56; Acts 2:36). The law, “given through angels,” exposes sin and points forward, but it cannot grant life. Life comes through the One whom God raised, and all who believe are justified from everything the law could not justify (Acts 7:53; Galatians 3:19–22; Acts 13:38–39).

A dispensational reading lets us honor both continuity and distinction without confusion. The covenants and promises entrusted to Israel remain; the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable, and a future day lies ahead when a softened nation will look on the One they pierced and be cleansed (Romans 11:25–29; Zechariah 12:10–13:1). At the same time, the Church in this present age is a new man in Christ, formed by the Spirit, not a national council but a global body built on the apostles and prophets with Christ as the cornerstone (Ephesians 2:14–22). Stephen speaks into Israel’s courts under the Mosaic administration, yet his witness heralds the realities of the Church age where worship is in Spirit and truth and where the people themselves are God’s sanctuary because the risen Lord is among them (John 4:23–24; Revelation 1:12–13).

Stephen’s death also clarifies the way of the cross for the Church. He speaks the truth, sees the Lord’s glory, prays for his enemies, and entrusts his spirit, reflecting the pattern of Jesus, who “suffered, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps” (1 Peter 2:21). The blood of martyrs does not purchase salvation; Christ alone did that. But their witness adorns the Gospel and shows its power to shape a human life into the likeness of the Savior who forgives those who kill Him (Acts 7:60; Luke 23:34).

Spiritual Lessons and Application

Stephen calls us to courage that rests in the nearness of Christ. He does not bluster. He looks to heaven, sees the Son of Man standing, and speaks with a steady heart because the Lord stands near His servant (Acts 7:55–56). Believers today meet tribunals of other kinds—committees, classrooms, offices—where confessing Jesus can cost. The same grace that steadied Stephen steadies us, for the Lord has said, “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you,” and therefore we can say with confidence, “The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid” (Hebrews 13:5–6).

He calls us to be Scripture-shaped people. Stephen’s defense is a Bible study under pressure, a rehearsal of Abraham, Joseph, Moses, the tabernacle, the temple, and the prophets that sets the present moment inside God’s story. He teaches us to answer the charges of our age with the storyline of Scripture rather than the slogans of the day, bearing witness to Jesus from Moses and the prophets just as the apostles did from the beginning (Luke 24:27; Acts 26:22–23). A mind soaked in the Word can speak with clarity when the hour demands it.

He calls us to reverence that refuses to confuse the sign with the substance. The temple mattered because God chose to put His name there, yet Solomon confessed at its dedication that “the heavens, even the highest heaven, cannot contain” the Lord, much less a house built by human hands (1 Kings 8:27). Stephen’s quotation of Isaiah returns us to that humility. Buildings, traditions, and forms can serve worship, but they must never displace the One we worship (Isaiah 66:1–2). Where we have trusted a structure to do what only the Spirit can do, we return to the living God.

He calls us to hold truth and tenderness together. Stephen’s words cut; his prayers heal. He indicts hard hearts and then asks that God not hold the sin against his killers, echoing the mercy of Jesus on the cross (Acts 7:51; Acts 7:60; Luke 23:34). The Church must learn the same cadence in an angry world—speaking plainly about unbelief and idolatry while blessing those who curse us and doing good to those who hate us, because the kindness of God still leads people to repentance (Matthew 5:44; Romans 2:4).

He calls us to embrace God’s sovereignty in suffering. Persecution scatters the Church, and the word spreads. What looks like defeat becomes the next stage in mission, just as Joseph told his brothers, “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good” (Acts 8:1–4; Genesis 50:20). Stephen did not live to see Saul become Paul, but his prayer and his blood watered the ground where grace would soon grow. In our disappointments we trust that no labor in the Lord is in vain and that God works all things for the good of those who love Him (1 Corinthians 15:58; Romans 8:28).

Finally, Stephen calls us to keep our eyes on the resurrection. He sees the Son of Man alive and reigning, and that vision frames everything—suffering now, glory ahead. “We believe that Jesus died and rose again,” and we believe that those who sleep in Him God will bring with Jesus, so we do not grieve as those who have no hope (1 Thessalonians 4:14; 1 Thessalonians 4:13). The stones of this age cannot silence that hope.

Conclusion

Stephen’s speech is not a clever defense; it is a faithful proclamation. He honors Israel’s story and shows how the God of glory has always kept His word, even as leaders resisted His messengers. He declares that the Most High cannot be contained by a house, and he names Jesus as the Righteous One whom God has exalted. He looks to heaven, sees the Son of Man, prays like his Master, and falls asleep under a hail of stones. The Church goes on speaking because the Lord goes on reigning. The scattering that follows becomes the next chapter in the mission, and a young man who consented to Stephen’s death will soon preach the faith he tried to destroy (Acts 8:3; Galatians 1:23).

His witness presses a question into every heart: will we resist the Holy Spirit, or will we bow to the Word and the Lord to whom it points? The same Jesus whom Stephen saw is the Jesus who stands by His people still, and the same Spirit who filled Stephen fills those who ask. We honor God’s gifts without mistaking them for God, we love the Scriptures that lead us to Christ, and we bear His name with courage and compassion until the day He wipes every tear from our eyes (John 5:39–40; Revelation 21:3–5).

“Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.”
“Lord, do not hold this sin against them.”
(Acts 7:59–60)


All Scripture quoted from:
New International Version (NIV)
Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV® Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.


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