When the members of the Sanhedrin heard this, they were furious and gnashed their teeth at him. But Stephen, full of the Holy Spirit, looked up to heaven and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God. “Look,” he said, “I see heaven open and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God.”
At this they covered their ears and, yelling at the top of their voices, they all rushed at him, dragged him out of the city and began to stone him. Meanwhile, the witnesses laid their coats at the feet of a young man named Saul.
While they were stoning him, Stephen prayed, “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.” Then he fell on his knees and cried out, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.” When he had said this, he fell asleep. And Saul approved of their killing him.
On that day a great persecution broke out against the church in Jerusalem, and all except the apostles were scattered throughout Judea and Samaria. Godly men buried Stephen and mourned deeply for him.
But Saul began to destroy the church. Going from house to house, he dragged off both men and women and put them in prison. Those who had been scattered preached the word wherever they went.
That scattering is what takes them into all the world to preach the Gospel. #greatcommission This caught my eye, so that is our focus today.
In the Old Testament, it sometimes seems like God wanted His people not to become too comfortable in one place, as if part of His plan was to keep them moving until all the world had heard about Yahweh. When they did settle in places like the Promised Land, it often ended poorly, as if just sitting in one place made them too comfortable or something.
Yet at the same time God did lead them to the Promised Land, and God talks about rest in the land of promise, and the New Testament clearly sees God as the only one who can truly offer us rest.
I want to explore the tension today.
The Patriarchs were nomads by design. Abraham’s calling was to “Go from your country, your people and your father’s household to the land I will show you.”(Genesis 12:1) The first covenant God makes with His people[1] begins with movement. If they were going to follow Yahweh, they have to leave the land the knew and go somewhere new. Abraham’s faith is tested and expressed through journey.
Hebrews 11 later reflects that Abraham “lived in tents” and looked for a city built by God. Apparently, everywhere he went, he was not meant to feel permanently at home. Jacob continues this pattern.
“The years of my pilgrimage are a hundred and thirty. My years have been few and difficult, and they do not equal the years of the pilgrimage of my fathers.” (Genesis 47:9)
The patriarchs were pilgrims, not settlers. Their relationship with God was built on trust, not comfort. When their descendants finally settled, where was it? Egypt. That nation that would enslave them for 430 years.
When the Israelites were rescued, once again they had to move. As they left Egypt, God’s presence moved when them: “When the cloud lifted… they set out; where the cloud settled, there the Israelites encamped.” (Numbers 9:17–23) Israel’s forty-year wandering was not just a punishment; it formed humility and trust:
“The Lord your God led you all the way in the wilderness… to humble and test you.” (Deuteronomy 8:2)
Similar to Abraham, their faith is tested by the wilderness, and expressed by their continued allegiance.
When they do make it to the Promised Land, they were still called “sojourners and tenants” before God. (Leviticus 25:23) That language was purposeful. They needed to be ready to move. When they settled in too deeply, the prophets called out the kind of settlement that leads to complacency and injustice:
“Woe to you who are complacent in Zion… you will be among the first to go into exile; your feasting and lounging will end.” (Amos 6)
“Jeshurun grew fat and kicked; filled with food, they became heavy and sleek. They abandoned the God who made them and rejected the Rock their Savior….You deserted the Rock, who fathered you; you forgot the God who gave you birth.” (Deuteronomy 32:15)
Settlement even in the Land of Promise often led to forgetting to depend on God and dulling the missional heart that was supposed to lead them to bless the nations (Genesis 12:3). When Israel wouldn’t bring Yahweh to the nations, God brought the nations to Israel — or, “scattered [Israel] among the nations.” (Leviticus 26:33; Ezekiel 12:15)
Faithfulness required them to have a journeying posture, literally (and, I will soon propose, spiritually). There is something here about refusing to be complacent, always looking to follow God where God leads.
To balance this, Scripture also affirms that stability and rest were part of God’s intention. God promised Abraham’s descendants “a land where you will dwell in safety.” (Leviticus 25:18–19) The Promised Land was the fulfillment of a promise, not a trap to trick them into laziness.
“The Lord gave Israel all the land… and they took possession of it and settled there.” (Joshua 21:43–45)
“You will cross the Jordan and settle in the land… and He will give you rest from all your enemies.” (Deuteronomy 12:10)
Maybe the Promised Land was like a geographical Sabbath, part of a rhythm of ceasing from movement: being present, grounded, and whole. Rest in this case was meant to be the fruit of obedience, not the opposite of faithfulness that involved moving and journeying.
Perhaps shalom rooted in righteousness is a good definition for what the prophets had always pointed toward: a future home of ultimate and final rest.
“My people will live in peaceful dwelling places.” (Isaiah 32:18)
The Old Testament’s tension between pilgrimage and rest carries forward into the New Testament — especially considering how persecution, scattering, and mission fit into the pattern in the Old Testament.
It’s interesting to think of Jesus as the mobile presence of God in the world.
“The Word became flesh and tabernacled among us.” (John 1:14)
The tabernacle was God’s moving tent as opposed to the Temple, which was in one place.[2] Jesus himself was that moving presence: Samaritan towns, Gentile regions, lakeshores, tax booths, and cross, with a home town that rejected him and “no place to lay his head.” (Luke 9:58)
His disciples are likewise sent out with no extra bag or sandals (Luke 10:4), learning to rely on hospitality and God’s provision. Their missional posture was one of radical dependence and mobility — just like Israel’s wilderness years.
Speaking of those wilderness years during the exodus from Egypt, Jesus’ death and resurrection are described as an exodus.
“Two men, Moses and Elijah, appeared in glorious splendor, talking with Jesus. They spoke about his departure (Greek, ‘exodos’) which he was about to bring to fulfillment at Jerusalem.” (Luke 9:30-31)
Jesus is going to take His people out of the Egypts of the world (captivity to sin) into a new kind of “Promised Land” that’s spiritual rather than geographic: a kingdom of God made up of people who follow His way. That’s going to involve people moving from darkness into light, from death into life. But then, in the spiritual land of promise, we receive a new promise.
“Come to me, all you who are weary and heavy laden….and you will find rest for your souls.” (Matthew 11:28–29)
That was the model and teaching of Jesus. Now, let’s look at the early church.
Before Acts 8, in response to this Good News, the early church grows rapidly - but locally. Up through chapter 7, almost everything still happens in Jerusalem. The community enjoyed the favor of the others, shared meals, cared for each other (Acts 2)…. and stayed local. People from all over the world were coming to Jerusalem and joining them,[3] but they weren’t going to them. Meanwhile, Jesus had given them a commission:
“You will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” (Acts 1:8)
God needs His people to move. I grew up in farming communities, and preachers liked to use an analogy about Christians and manure. We are great fertilizer when you spread us out, but we start to stink if we just keep piling up in one place. Sometimes that happens voluntarily; sometimes we are forced to spread out. This is what happens in Acts 8.
“On that day a great persecution broke out… and all except the apostles were scattered throughout Judea and Samaria….Those who had been scattered preached the word wherever they went.”
The very next story we will read involves Phillip – going to Samaria. The persecution became the engine that drove them to their neighbors, and to the world. Like the Babel scattering (Genesis 11), this scattering will move God’s people into places they were reluctant to go – or might not have ever gone.
Eventually, Peter will very clearly reframe the church’s identity even as they form stable, grounded churches in more and more cities:
“To God’s elect, exiles scattered throughout the provinces…” ( 1 Peter 1:1)
“Live as foreigners here in reverent fear.” (1 Peter 1:17)
In the Old Testament, the scattering of the Israelites (diasopora) was a judgment. Now, the church has been scattered into a missional diaspora as they become living witnesses of God’s character among the nations.
Hebrews returns full circle to the Abraham’s search for a city built by God:
“Here we have no lasting city, but we are looking for the city that is to come.” (Hebrews 13:14)
And yet, it’s not just the rest of the city to come that we look forward to. There is a rest now even as we journey.
"Therefore, there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God, for anyone who enters God’s rest has rested from their works, just as God did from his. Let us, therefore, make every effort to enter that rest…” (Hebrews 4:9-11)
The act of pilgrimage, if done in obedience to God’s leading, can actually be restful as we rest in the power and provision of God. Spirit-led movement while resting in God becomes our mission.
* * * *
Now, let’s see if I can bring this together. I have a challenge and an encouragement.
I’ve often said that physical realities in the Old Testament are foreshadowing for spiritual realities in the New Testament. In today’s topic there is some overlap.
Sometimes God will call us to literally move (Sheila and I felt that call when we moved here). But I think this is also a call to internal movement. We all have areas of spiritual, emotional or relational immaturity or even sin. God calls us to move into maturity and/or repentance – while resting in and trusting His grace and love.
So, let’s talk practically about when to move and when to rest. We need to do both, we can do both, but – and I am speaking for myself here - we are not always good at finding that balance, or knowing when to really focus on rest or movement for a season when we have lost our balance.
Rest without movement becomes stagnation. This is true for individuals and the church. May God save us from settling into too comfortable spaces that:
never challenge us to move into better relationship with God and others. We need to learn about the depth and breadth of Christian teaching.
never challenge us to move toward holiness: we must ask God to search us, know our hearts and minds and see if there is wickedness that needs dealing with, and then lean into repentance and a change of direction.
never challenge our evangelism, asking if and where in our lives we are called to more purposefully present on behalf of Jesus than we have been.
never moves us closer to the poor, the lost, the oppressed, and respond with cruciform, sacrificial love that costs us something.
Who needs to hear this today? It’s time to move where Jesus leads you, toward a Land of Promise filled with righteousness and Christ-likeness.
Your marriage needs work and you are not doing anything about it. Move toward accountability with friends, or help from a counselor, but do something for your good, your spouse’s good, and God’s glory.
Your kids need you to be a more Christ-like parent, and you know it, but it’s not yet motivated you to do anything about it. Move. God did not call you to settle into immaturity and unrighteousness.
Maybe there are people that really need to experience the presence of genuine Christ-followers and you know this but you just don’t want to get too close to them. But you can feel the Holy Spirit saying, over and over, “They could use Jesus.” If that’s you, it’s time to move.
Maybe you can’t shake that nagging feeling that you need to make things right with THAT person, and you know God is urging you to move into discomfort and maybe even pain for the sake of reconciliation.
Maybe you know you need help with the brokenness and sin inside. Maybe you are full of self-loathing and shame, or depression, and you have not told anyone and you have been stuck there for years. God wants you to move toward help, and healing, and hope.
Movement without rest becomes exhaustion. This is true for individuals and the church. We must rest. We need to recover. We need to re-connect with God, ourselves, and others. David wrote that God makes us lie down in green pastures by still waters while he restores our souls. (Psalm, 23)
I’m not talking about the times when our kids’ needs can keep us running non-stop, or when you’re an accountant and it is year’s end taxes, or when there is a health crisis and you’re the caregiver. You will still need rest at some point, but those are really busy seasons of life that just happen as life unfolds. I’m talking about always moving because of a drivenness that reflects something unhealthy in us, or perhaps a distrust in God’s power and provision to take care of things even if we aren’t a part of it.
Movement without rest was how I did life for so many years, for complex reasons. I think my identity was wrapped up in being useful or needed, which probably falls under the umbrella of wanting to be liked. I was pretty sure the most productive times in my life were the times when I was getting things done! I ran myself into a nervous breakdown (and a lengthy recovery).
That slowed me down a little; my heart attack slowed me down more. And honestly, spending time literally resting was good for me and those around me. Learning how to rest in the arms of Jesus even more these past two years as I navigated so much pain and sadness has been so good.
Who needs to hear this today? You need to rest in Jesus. I can think of at least three ways.
First, take a literal break. You need to work more Sabbath time into your schedule until you have recovered. You should consider if you have unsustainable or unrealistic ideas about what you can actually do, or need to do. During that rest, spend time doing something that connects you with God: pray, read Scripture, listen to music, take a walk.
Second, trust that Jesus can accomplish His work in the world even while you are taking a break. God loves when you partner with Him in the work He is doing, but His purposes are not thwarted if you need to rest. He factored that in already. He might even have someone else in mind who is a better fit for the mission at that moment.
Third, rest in the goodness and love of God. For me, it’s taking time to listen to songs or read Scripture or books. Last year, in the midst of some really hard therapy, I would go home and literally rest on my bed and invite Jesus to come sit with me and the wounded child in me just as a purposeful invitation. I have to tell you, my rest was sweet. Take time to rest in the goodness and love of God.
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[1] The covenants with Adam and Noah happened, of course, but Abraham is the father of Israel.
[2] As Pat pointed out last week.
[3] We saw this at Pentecost