Sermon: "Woke"

Introduction to Acts 9:36-43

The book of Acts was written by the same author who composed the gospel of Luke, as it chronicles the story – or the “acts” - of the disciples after Jesus’ death and resurrection.

Apart from the letters of Paul, the Book of Acts is the only source we have for stories about the early church -

The church built by Peter, James, and Paul and the growing number of disciples who joined them to carry the message of Jesus into the world.

In this post-Easter world, we find yet another resurrection story.

This one carried out at the hands of Peter,

who raises a woman from the dead.

But not just any woman – we’re told she’s a fellow disciple.

This is the only time in the entire New Testament that the Greek word for disciple – mathaties – is applied to a woman.

This disciple also happens to be a much beloved seamstress,

who spent her days making clothing for widows and those in need.

The woman’s name, in Greek, is Dorcas –which means Gazelle.

But we’re also given her name in Aramaic – Tabitha.

What’s striking about this story is how closely it resembles the story in Mark’s gospel, where Jesus raised a little girl from the dead.

In that story, Jesus’ words are recorded in his native Aramaic:

He took the girl by the hand and said, “Talitha, cuum.”

Which means, “Little girl, get up.”

Here, Peter, using the woman’s Aramaic name, says, “Tabitha, get up.”

And then as she awakens he takes her by the hand.

Duplicating the miraculous healing that Jesus once did.

Demonstrating that despite Jesus’ passing,

God is still acting in the world.

The Rev. Maureen R. Frescott

Congregational Church of Amherst, UCC
May 12, 2019 – Fourth Sunday of Easter

Acts 9:36-43

“Woke”

How many of you are early risers?

If you are, then you may know the joy of waking up at this time of year, around 5:00 a.m., and hearing the birds singing outside.

If you’re a parent, you may have experienced the delight of awakening early on a Saturday morning, before the kids have stirred – and just lying there, even just for 5 minutes, reveling in a rare moment of peace.

Conversely, if you’ve experienced a deep loss, you may know what it’s like to be awoken each morning by the shuddering realization that it wasn’t a dream, and as the pain washes over you, you wonder if you’ll ever wake up feeling alive again.

We often associate resurrection stories with that feeling of being woken up – to joy, to peace, to new life, even in the shadow of death.

If you open up a Bible to the story we just heard from Book of Acts – more often than not it appears under the heading, “Peter in Lydda and Joppa.”

Lydda and Joppa are the two cities where Peter performed two successive miraculous acts, first healing a man named Aeneas,

who had been bedridden for 8 years, before moving on to the home of the disciple named Dorcas (or Tabitha, which is her Aramaic name), where he raised her from the dead.

Traditionally, the names of those being healed here are viewed as incidental,

because this is a story about Peter.

Which is why his name appears in the heading.

This is a story that establishes Peter as a conduit of God’s healing power,

and affirms him as the one destined to build Christ’s church in the world.

But this is not a sermon about Peter.

This is a sermon about Tabitha.

Because Tabitha is not just an incidental character who appears as an extra in the Peter story.   

She did not rise simply to prove that Peter had the power to awaken her.

While Luke, the author of the book of Acts, may have chosen to include Dorcas’ Aramaic name, Tabitha, because it sounds so similar to Talitha –

and it helps us draw a neat connecting line between Jesus’ power as a healer and Peter’s power as a healer – there’s so much more going on here than that.

This is one of the few miraculous healing stories in our Bible where we’re given additional background information about the one being healed,

beyond the details of the condition that needs healing.

We’re told that Tabitha is devoted to good works and acts of charity.

And after Peter is summoned and rushes in to see her,

rather than jump right to the healing,

Luke takes the opportunity to allow his readers linger in the room.

Telling us about the widows who were gathered there

shedding tears over Tabitha’s loss.

And describing the clothing that this disciple had lovingly made for others.

We may not fully appreciate the art of apparel making in our modern times.

Even if we have some sense of the time and talent it takes,

after watching TV shows about the fashion industry’s top designers,

for most of us, acquiring clothing is as simple as taking a trip to the mall

or clicking “Buy it Now” on the internet.

If we split a seam, or lose a button, or need a larger size to accommodate our larger size, we simply go out and buy something new.

We also are not lacking for choice.

Very few of us wear the same outfit every day – unless our work requires it.

And even if that’s the case, we likely have more than one of whatever is we’re required to wear – whether it’s a uniform shirt, a pair of scrubs, or a business suit.

Most of us likely have more pieces of clothing in our closets that we don’t wear, than pieces that we do.

This was not the case in Tabitha’s world, where anyone lower than royalty likely had only one or two sets of clothing to put on each day.

We see this reflected in the communal laws that appear in our Bible,

where it explicitly states, if you take someone’s cloak as collateral for a loan, make sure you return it to them each night, when the temperature drops, because it may be the only covering they have.

In a world where clothing is difficult to come by, laborious to make,

and expensive to own, anyone who has the time and talent to create it

and the compassion to give it away,

is a true gift to the community.

Making clothing is not completely a lost art in our time.

Many of you love to sew, or at least know how to mend a tear.

My mother spent many hours at her beloved Singer sewing machine.

With ten children to clothe, and with hand-me-downs only going so far before they completely wore out,

at Christmas we were often gifted with a new pair of pants or a new dress - that was conspicuously lacking any labels,

and was inevitably made out of some itchy fabric that had us begging to take it off before the days end.

When one of my older sisters got married,

my mother very ambitiously made her wedding dress.

She also made the bridesmaid’s dresses for all the girls in the wedding party.

Somewhere there’s a photo of 12-year-old me looking very unhappy in pink taffeta, with very puffy sleeves.

At the time, I may not have appreciated my mother’s gifts as a seamstress,

or the effort, energy, and love that she stitched into each piece of clothing that she made.

Thankfully, Tabitha’s gift was appreciated in her time.

Not just for the obvious necessity of her particular gift, but for the way she used her gift to support, sustain, and care for her community.

The Tabatha story is a story about resurrection healing.

A story about God’s ability to awaken us, and heal us in unexpected ways.

But Peter wasn’t the only conduit for Tabitha’s healing.

Her awakening was also made possible by the presence of the members of the community gathered around her – who cared enough to summon help in her time of need, and who stayed with her, in her dying and in her rising.

What’s happening here is a form of communal healing.

As the people Tabatha loved and served became a healing presence for her –

and for one another – in their grief, and their joy.

The unexpected result of this particular communal coming together

is that Tabitha was given new life, the gift of more time, to stitch her love – and God’s love - into the garments she created for those most in need of feeling that love wrapped around their bodies.

You may have heard it said that we can’t be a Christian in isolation.

That being a follower of Jesus hinges on our ability to live in community -  

to care for others, to be the presence of Christ for one another,

and to allow others to be that presence for us.

This is not something that comes easily for some of us.

Especially if we’ve been raised to believe that depending on others is a sign of weakness, or a personal failing…

because we’re supposed to be able to pull our own weight,

and not become a burden to others.

Or, if we’ve been taught that our own needs are not as important as the needs of those around us, therefore the needs of those we care for should always come first, even if our own needs are great or are rarely met.

This emphasis on personal responsibility, self-sufficiency, or self depreciation – which we project on to others or take on ourselves –

can greatly hinder our ability to be the presence of Christ for one another.

And hinder our ability to bring about communal healing.

We may wonder what stories like this one about ancient healings and resurrections have to do with our desire for healing in our time.

New Testament Professor and Lutheran Pastor, Rolf Jacobson,

shares the results of a survey that he helped facilitate, that was intended to measure the influence of the Bible on people’s lives.

What he found is that the Bible comes alive for us most often during times of crisis.

In the course of the survey, Jacobson met a man whose son had died.

The man shared that he was not overtly religious but he turned to the Bible to help him make sense of something that he could not wrap his head around.

The man said, “Every morning I would wake up and my very first thought would be, 'My son is dead.' But eventually, after reading the Bible everyday, my first thought upon waking became, 'I’m alive.'”

Stories of resurrection, renewal, and healing are the voice of community.

Even if the members of the community sharing the stories have long since passed, they still have the ability to awaken us,

to change our perspective,

to reassure us that we’re not alone in our need for restoration.

The point of resurrection stories is to show us that God has the power to heal us in unexpected ways.

And more often than not,

it’s the community that holds us as we slumber

and is there to greet us when we’ve awoken.

Talitha, cum!

Tabitha, get up!

We are all blessed by your return.

Thanks be to God, and Amen.