Readings

Acts 7.55–end – Filled with the Holy Spirit, Stephen gazed into heaven and saw the glory of God and Jesus standing at the right hand of God. ‘Look,’ he said, ‘I see the heavens opened and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God!’ But they covered their ears, and with a loud shout all rushed together against him. Then they dragged him out of the city and began to stone him; and the witnesses laid their coats at the feet of a young man named Saul. While they were stoning Stephen, he prayed, ‘Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.’ Then he knelt down and cried out in a loud voice, ‘Lord, do not hold this sin against them.’ When he had said this, he died.

John 14.1–14 – Jesus said to his disciples, ‘Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house there are many dwelling-places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also. And you know the way to the place where I am going.’Thomas said to him, ‘Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?’ Jesus said to him, ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you know me, you will know my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him.’ Philip said to him, ‘Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, “Show us the Father”? Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me? The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own; but the Father who dwells in me does his works. Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; but if you do not, then believe me because of the works themselves. Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father. I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.’

Sermon

“Do not let your hearts be troubled.”

Jesus speaks these words into a moment of deep uncertainty. The disciples can sense that something is ending. The shape of their life with him is changing, and they do not yet understand what comes next. And it is into that uncertainty, not after it has been resolved, that Jesus says: “Do not let your hearts be troubled.”

I think the timing of Jesus’ words matter, because it tells us that this is not a command to feel calm. It is an invitation to trust. Trust, not because the situation is straightforward, but because of who he is. And that becomes clearer as the conversation unfolds. Thomas asks the question that perhaps everyone is thinking: “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?”

It is a question about direction, about certainty, about wanting something solid to hold onto. And Jesus responds, not by clarifying the route, but by redefining the question: “I am the way, and the truth, and the life.” He does not offer a map or a plan. He offers himself. Which means that the “way” is not something we master. It is someone we follow.

And that changes how we understand what it means to live faithfully. Because it means that the heart of the Christian life is not about having clarity over every step ahead. It is about relationship; about remaining in Christ, trusting him, walking with him. “Do not let your hearts be troubled… believe in God, believe also in me.”

Now hold that alongside what we have heard from Acts.

Stephen stands before a crowd that has already decided his fate. The situation is not uncertain in the way the disciples’ is. It is, if anything, brutally clear. There is no ambiguity about what is coming. And yet, in that moment, Stephen is described as “full of the Holy Spirit.” He gazes into heaven and sees “the glory of God and Jesus standing at the right hand of God.”

That detail is worth pausing over. Elsewhere in the New Testament, Jesus is described as seated at the right hand of God. Here, he is standing. It is a small shift, but a significant one. It suggests attentiveness. Presence. A readiness to receive. Stephen is not alone. And because he knows that, because his gaze is fixed on Christ, his response is transformed. He entrusts his spirit to Jesus. And he prays for those who are killing him.

This is not detachment from reality. It is not denial of what is happening. Stephen is fully present to the moment. But his vision is larger than the moment. He sees beyond what is immediately in front of him.

And that, I think, is where these two readings meet.

In John’s Gospel, Jesus calls his disciples to trust him as the way, specially when the path ahead is unclear. In Acts, Stephen shows us what that trust can look like when it is lived out, when everything seems to be closing in rather than opening up. In both cases, the key is where the gaze is directed. The disciples are invited to look to Christ. Stephen actually does.

And that changes everything; not by altering the circumstances, but by reshaping how those circumstances are held.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled.” That does not mean that trouble will not come. It does not mean that we will not face moments of fear, confusion, or even profound loss. But it does mean that those moments do not have the final word. Because the one who is the way has gone ahead of us.

“In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places… I go to prepare a place for you.” These are not just comforting words about the future. They are words that reframe the present. They tell us that our lives are held within a larger reality—a reality shaped by the life, death, resurrection, and ascension of Christ. And so, even now, our lives are oriented somewhere. We are not wandering aimlessly. We are being drawn. Drawn into the life of God.

And that has implications for how we live. It means that when we find ourselves asking, “What is the way forward?” the answer may not come as a clear set of directions. Instead, the question becomes: Where is Christ in this? And how do I remain with him? It means that when we face situations that feel overwhelming, the invitation is not first to solve them, but to fix our gaze. To look again to Christ.

Not in a vague or abstract sense, but in the concrete practices of faith: in prayer, in Scripture, in the sacraments, in the life of the Church. Because these are the places where we learn to recognise his presence. These are the places where our vision is gently reshaped.

And, perhaps most challengingly, it means that as our vision is reshaped, so too is our response.

Stephen’s final prayer, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them”, is not an isolated moment of heroism. It is the fruit of a life oriented towards Christ. It is what happens when the way we follow begins to shape the way we love. That kind of response does not come easily. It stretches us. It exposes our limits. But it also points to the depth of what it means to follow the one who is the way.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled.” These are not light words. They are spoken into the reality of fear and uncertainty. But they are also spoken by the one who has overcome death. The one who prepares a place for us. The one who stands to receive us. And the one who, even now, calls us to follow.

Not with everything mapped out, but with our eyes fixed on him.

Amen.