Then [Stephen] fell on his knees and cried out, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.” When he had said this, he fell asleep. (NIV)

Last summer, I learned of a man named William Tyndale; no one knows his birthday (other than sometime in the early 1490s), but his death is known down to the day. On October 6, 1536, Tyndale was strangled and burned for “heresy;” he spent many years of his life translating the Bible so that his compatriots could read the Word of God in their native tongue: English.

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Awaiting death in Vilvorde Prison for these translations, he writes a letter famously known as “Tyndale's Letter from Prison.” He begins by requesting a few items to stay warmer: “If I am able to pass the winter here, to urge upon the lord commissary, if he will design, to send me from my goods in his keeping a warmer cap, for I suffer greatly from cold in the head...a warmer coat also, for that which I have is very thin. Also cloth for repairing my leggings.”

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My heart can’t help but break each time I read those requests and try to imagine his experience, but the next requests are even more chilling: “But above all, I beg...that he would deign to allow me the use of my Hebrew Bible, Hebrew Grammar, and Hebrew Lexicon, and that I might employ my time with that study.” Can you imagine asking from jail for the very thing that put you in jail, for the very thing that is likely leading to your death at any moment?

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But Tyndale isn’t yet to the craziest part: “Thus likewise may you obtain what you most desire, saving that it further the salvation of your soul. But if, before the end of winter, a different decision be reached concerning me, I shall be patient, and submit to the will of God to the glory of the grace of Jesus Christ my Lord, whose spirit may ever direct your heart.”

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“Amen,” he concludes.

In today’s verse from Acts, Stephen steps out alone in faith and becomes the first recorded martyr for Christ. His last words are, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.” 1,500 years later, Tyndale mirrors this same heart when he prays for the person receiving his letter from jail, that even if it is decided that he die, they may know and be led by God.

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In Matthew 5:43-45, Jesus himself instructs us, “But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your father in heaven.” This is a bigger ask than it may seem upon first read. “We should pray for them,” whomever they may be, is not often a completely innocent remark; if we’re honest with ourselves, judgement, critique, or shame often creep beneath the surface of that statement.  

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It proves difficult to love and pray for our enemies without any agenda, lifting them to the Lord solely for their benefit, just as we would pray for a loved one. To pray for a blessing by God with the gift of eternity alongside him is a different kind of prayer that comes from a different kind of heart.

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So how do we forgive like Christ asks of us, like he forgave us on the cross? It’s improbable that you will wake up tomorrow with this new, perfected ability, but there is a hint in Tyndale and Stephen’s prayers of how to grow closer to the Lord: These men did not say I forgive you; they knew it was about so much more. They submitted to God and looked to the Father for his ultimate love that casts his mercy onto those who are loved and wanted in his Kingdom, which includes our enemies as much as it includes ourselves.

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Regardless of how stark their situation, they desired the Lord’s greater plan and spent considerable time living out their faith as they served his people, spent time with him, and studied his Word. They teach us that to have a heart like Jesus—one that truly forgives like he asks of us in Matthew 5—requires actual engagement in our faith.

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Standing idly by and waiting on God to change our hearts is futile; God does not force himself into our lives. He asks that we set ourselves apart from the world (what it means to be “holy”) and allow him entrance––only then can he truly begin working on our hearts as we learn to forgive like Jesus.

Father, give me a heart that yearns to be more like you. I ask for forgiveness for the times that I want to stay closer to this world than I want to get to you. Show me how to let you in and give me eyes to see like you. Show me what to do next to learn more about you and your heart. I love you, Father! Amen.