Revised Common Lectionary (Complementary)
93 1-2 God is King, robed and ruling,
God is robed and surging with strength.
And yes, the world is firm, immovable,
Your throne ever firm—you’re Eternal!
3-4 Sea storms are up, God,
Sea storms wild and roaring,
Sea storms with thunderous breakers.
Stronger than wild sea storms,
Mightier than sea-storm breakers,
Mighty God rules from High Heaven.
5 What you say goes—it always has.
“Beauty” and “Holy” mark your palace rule,
God, to the very end of time.
The Money Has Gone to Your Head
28 1-5 God’s Message came to me, “Son of man, tell the prince of Tyre, ‘This is what God, the Master, says:
“‘Your heart is proud,
going around saying, “I’m a god.
I sit on God’s divine throne,
ruling the sea”—
You, a mere mortal,
not even close to being a god,
A mere mortal
trying to be a god.
Look, you think you’re smarter than Daniel.
No enigmas can stump you.
Your sharp intelligence
made you world-wealthy.
You piled up gold and silver
in your banks.
You used your head well,
worked good deals, made a lot of money.
But the money has gone to your head,
swelled your head—what a big head!
6-11 “‘Therefore, God, the Master, says:
“‘Because you’re acting like a god,
pretending to be a god,
I’m giving fair warning: I’m bringing strangers down on you,
the most vicious of all nations.
They’ll pull their swords and make hash
of your reputation for knowing it all.
They’ll puncture the balloon
of your god-pretensions.
They’ll bring you down from your self-made pedestal
and bury you in the deep blue sea.
Will you protest to your assassins,
“You can’t do that! I’m a god”?
To them you’re a mere mortal.
They’re killing a man, not a god.
You’ll die like a stray dog,
killed by strangers—
Because I said so.
Decree of God, the Master.’”
11-19 God’s Message came to me: “Son of man, raise a funeral song over the king of Tyre. Tell him, A Message from God, the Master:
“You had everything going for you.
You were in Eden, God’s garden.
You were dressed in splendor,
your robe studded with jewels:
Carnelian, peridot, and moonstone,
beryl, onyx, and jasper,
Sapphire, turquoise, and emerald,
all in settings of engraved gold.
A robe was prepared for you
the same day you were created.
You were the anointed cherub.
I placed you on the mountain of God.
You strolled in magnificence
among the stones of fire.
From the day of your creation
you were sheer perfection . . .
and then imperfection—evil!—was detected in you.
In much buying and selling
you turned violent, you sinned!
I threw you, disgraced, off the mountain of God.
I threw you out—you, the anointed angel-cherub.
No more strolling among the gems of fire for you!
Your beauty went to your head.
You corrupted wisdom
by using it to get worldly fame.
I threw you to the ground,
sent you sprawling before an audience of kings
and let them gloat over your demise.
By sin after sin after sin,
by your corrupt ways of doing business,
you defiled your holy places of worship.
So I set a fire around and within you.
It burned you up. I reduced you to ashes.
All anyone sees now
when they look for you is ashes,
a pitiful mound of ashes.
All who once knew you
now throw up their hands:
‘This can’t have happened!
This has happened!’”
* * *
54-56 At that point they went wild, a rioting mob of catcalls and whistles and invective. But Stephen, full of the Holy Spirit, hardly noticed—he only had eyes for God, whom he saw in all his glory with Jesus standing at his side. He said, “Oh! I see heaven wide open and the Son of Man standing at God’s side!”
57-58 Yelling and hissing, the mob drowned him out. Now in full stampede, they dragged him out of town and pelted him with rocks. The ringleaders took off their coats and asked a young man named Saul to watch them.
59-60 As the rocks rained down, Stephen prayed, “Master Jesus, take my life.” Then he knelt down, praying loud enough for everyone to hear, “Master, don’t blame them for this sin”—his last words. Then he died.
Saul was right there, congratulating the killers.
Simon the Wizard
8 1-2 That set off a terrific persecution of the church in Jerusalem. The believers were all scattered throughout Judea and Samaria. All, that is, but the apostles. Good and brave men buried Stephen, giving him a solemn funeral—not many dry eyes that day!
Copyright © 1993, 2002, 2018 by Eugene H. Peterson