Do Not Let Your Heart Be Troubled

There are moments in life when the ground beneath us feels unsteady, when certainty disappears, and anxiety rises with an unknown future. “Do not let your hearts be troubled.” This is among Jesus' most tender expressions. Yet it’s also one of the hardest to achieve Because if we are honest, there is much that troubles the heart. Loss. Uncertainty. Division. Fear of what lies ahead.

Jesus says this in a quiet room, to disciples who are beginning to sense that everything is about to change. Thomas, brings up what others are thinking: “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” Jesus reassures, promising, "I am the way and the truth and the life. “I’m here for you.” He is telling us to walk and stay with him, to trust him. Not because trouble won’t come, but because something enduring is coming. “Believe in God, Jesus says, Believe also in me.” ‘Knowing the way is about relationship. “If you know me, you will know my Father also.
Philip wants more proof. “Show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.” How often have we seen God at work in our lives, yet we remain unsatisfied.” Doubt creeps in, faith wavers. Jesus responds, likely somewhat sadly I imagine, “Have I been with you all this time, and you still do not know me.” Jesus’ whole life has been about revealing who God is. God is seen in Jesus. Amazingly, Jesus then says, “The one who believes in me will also do the works that I do – and, in fact, will do greater works than these. We are his feet and hands that can, have, and will continue to reach out to the world. The love of Jesus will move through many people, multiplying through us, God willing.
And now we turn to Acts—and find Stephen, soon to be the first Christian martyr. The very opposite situation. Not in a quiet room. Not among friends. But in the middle of a storm of anger, standing before a crowd that has already decided how this story will end. If anyone has reason for a troubled heart, it is him.
Stephen is not looking at the stones. He is not fixed on the anger around him. He is looking—somehow—beyond it. And what he sees is astonishing. “Look, I see heaven open and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God.” Our scripture says he is “full of the Holy Spirit.” The promise Jesus made, “I go to prepare a place for you,” has been kept, fulfilled.

For Stephen, in a moment of profound suffering, heaven is something that breaks open before him now. The veil thins. The unseen, the hidden becomes visible. Incredible, isn’t it? And at the center of it all—Jesus. Standing. As if to receive Stephen. Meanwhile, the world does what the world so often does, rushing towards violence, glorifying in death. And the stones begin to fall. “Do not let your hearts be troubled.” How can that possibly be true here? This is where Marcus Borg offers a crucial insight. For him, faith is primarily about trusting the presence of God no matter what happens.

God is a presence that is real, accessible, and sustaining. It is no wonder that Borg’s writings helped me in a troubled time. He promises his presence within it.
And Stephen embodies that promise. As the stones fall, he prays. “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.” And then, even more remarkably: “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.”
If those words sound familiar, they should. in the very moment of violence, he speaks the words of the cross. Which tells us something profound: Stephen is not just believing in Christ, he has become the new creation in Christ.

Back in John’s Gospel, Jesus says:
“I am the way, and the truth, and the life.” People want us to justify this statement about who Jesus says he is. Stephen – he lives this. Breathtaking isn’t it. Because Stephen isn’t the Son of Man, but a mere man true to Jesus unto death. Can you imagine?

“In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places…” When we read that we imagine a future promise—something waiting for us someday. But what if it is more immediate than that? Seeing it right now, while alive. Heaven is opening here on earth. Christ is present and Stephen is not alone. And perhaps that is the assurance we need. Jesus is present right there with us. And heaven is not far away, but close.

So here we are. Is it possible that we too can be like Stephen, looking up toward heaven and reaping the promise of Easter, even though the stones are still falling? We can start slowly, stumbling along the way, learning to trust and to live without fear, loving all. Following Jesus, all the way. The love of Christ now lives in many, in us. Jesus has gone ahead of us, he has prepared the way, he opens heaven to us, saying: “do not let your hearts be troubled.” Thanks be to God. Amen