The Light Still Shines

"The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it." John 1:5

"The Stoning of Saint Stephen" Rembrandt, 1625, Oil on oak panel.

The Stoning of Saint Stephen is Rembrandt’s first signed work from 1625. He was just 19 at the time the work was completed. Located at the Musée des Beaux-Arts de Lyon, this tragic masterpiece is renowned for its elegant style and dramatic classical faces, as well as its varied expressions.  If you look closer, just above Stephen’s head, you can see a figure resembling the artist. Rembrandt always inserted himself into his art as if he wanted to experience what story he was telling with his brush and how it impacted him.

Can you see the gut-wrenching anguish in Rembrandt's eyes as he fearfully looks on at the imminent demise of Stephen before the final blow? Take a moment to examine each face. We see anger, fear, joy, laughter, and insanity. Isn’t that where we are today, a world gone mad, spiraling apart, where right is wrong and wrong right? It is a fulfilment of Scripture as Jesus warned.

Hope is in the distance.

Despite the recent tragedy of September 10, 2025, and the unfolding grief around the world, God has given us a peace that surpasses our understanding. Peace that fills us with hope for tomorrow. Words cannot express the shock, the horror, and even the disbelief of the murder of Charlie Kirk. I believe politics were not the ultimate motivation, but rather an attempt to silence God, his cause, his mission, and the ultimate reality that we are living in the last of the last days.

I remember reading in Scripture about when Stephen was stoned to death by a furious, maniacal mob after being accused of blasphemy for his outspoken belief in Jesus as the Messiah and for his fervent and relentless preaching of the Gospel.

Stephen is known as the first Christian martyr, and his death is documented in the Book of Acts in the Bible. As Stephen died, he prayed for his persecutors and for Jesus to receive his spirit. I liken Charlie Kirk to Stephen because of his unwavering commitment and love for Jesus, as well as his boldness in speaking the Word of God and proclaiming Christ in the area of ministry to which God has called him.

Did you know that according to research, Stephen was likely in his late twenties or early thirties when he was stoned to death, with most sources placing his death around 33-36 AD and his birth date around 5 AD, making him approximately 28 to 31 years old? The exact age is not stated in the biblical account, but scholarly estimates based on his estimated birth and death dates fall within this range. Charlie was 31. As singer Marvin Gaye's song "Abraham, Martin and John" says, "the good die young."

"But Stephen, full of the Holy Spirit, gazed steadily into heaven and saw the glory of God, and he saw Jesus standing in the place of honor at God’s right hand. And he told them, “Look, I see the heavens opened and the Son of Man standing in the place of honor at God’s right hand!” (Acts 7:55-56 NLT).

The Light still shines.

While watching multiple press conferences and footage on the news, I noticed Charlie in a clip, obviously just before the rally began, out with the people, beaming like always with purpose, joy, and resilient determination to complete his God-given assignment for the day, to do what he was made for. But his face, like Stephen's, looked peaceful, yet undaunted, loving, yet aware of the divided crowd before him. Yet, he persevered until the end.

"As they stoned him, Stephen prayed, 'Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.” He fell to his knees, shouting, “Lord, don’t charge them with this sin!” And with that, he died." (vv. 59-60).

Though I did not see the actual horrific footage of the shot that ultimately killed him, I saw someone who saw far beyond a mass of supporters and naysayers. I saw a prepared servant of Christ who was determined to win the lost, at any cost, for the sake of the Gospel.

Each time we lose a hero of the Faith, my mind goes to the armor they have left and the unavoidable question of who will take up this armor?

This was not a flesh-and-blood incident, but a spiritual one—a sign that the clock is ticking, that time is coming to a swift end. As much zeal as Charlie had, like Stephen, I believe he innately knew that his life would eventually be taken for the sake of his platform of evangelism and discipling students. Charlie served well. He was a hero. He is a martyr.

In Charlie's own words,

"If you believe in something, you need to have the courage to fight for those ideas - not run away from them or try and silence them." Charlie Kirk 

Each time we lose a hero of the Faith, my mind goes to the armor they have left and the unavoidable question of who will take up this armor? Who will stand in the gap and continue the work? You see, to the broader world, politics is the main reason. It is a smokescreen. A diversion to the bigger picture here. There is an even more dire situation here - the least, the last, and the lost.

Praise the Lord, we know that the Church and God’s plan can never be stopped for the Spirit burns even brighter today through the faithful lights of the world.

I read on X this morning a post that said, "They just created a million Charlie Kirks." Yes. Amidst the darkness, the grief and hopelessness, I see a flicker of light that is piercing the finite minds and weak hearts of man. An unquenchable and perpetual light.

Will you follow through as Charlie did? Will you do the one thing God created you to do? Whose armor will you take up today? Will you be a light?

Turning thy face from all the past,

On to the goal keep pressing;

All of the weights from off thee cast,

On to the goal keep pressing.

See in the distance there arise

Glorious mansions in the skies,

Waiting for thee—a wondrous prize—

On to the goal keep pressing.

Charles W. Naylor

Copyright 2025, Dr. William S. Barnett

No portion of this content can be copied, electronically stored, or reproduced without the express written permission of the author.

Photo Credit:  "The Stoning of Saint Stephen" Rembrandt 1625, Oil on oak panel, Wikipedia