Acts 9:36-43 • Psalm 23 • Revelation 7:9-17 • John 10:22-30
"At that time the festival of the Dedication took place in Jerusalem. It was winter, 23and Jesus was walking in the temple, in the portico of Solomon. 24So the Jews gathered around him and said to him, 'How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly.' 25Jesus answered, 'I have told you, and you do not believe. The works that I do in my Father’s name testify to me; 26but you do not believe, because you do not belong to my sheep. 27My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. 28I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand. 29What my Father has given me is greater than all else, and no one can snatch it out of the Father’s hand. 30The Father and I are one.'"
Today our Easter Season of storytelling the origins of how the church began, and who we are continues. Today’s story of the early church from Acts is an amazing story about Dorcas, the only woman named as a disciple in the whole New Testament. Dorcas in Greek means “gazelle”, and so instead of calling today “Good Shepherd Sunday” as we usually do on the 4th Sunday of Easter, we could call today “Gazelle Sunday.” Today is our commemoration to this female servant leader of the early church. Dorcas’ name in Aramaic was Tabitha. This name is one letter away from being the word from “ta-LI-tha” which is the word Jesus used to raise a girl from the dead during his public ministry. It’s no surprise then that Ta-BI-tha represents for us the power of the risen Christ, as Peter gets her up after she becomes ill and dies.
Tabitha is the first person in the first months of the early church to be raised from the dead. Why her? Why does she get so much focus, with so little mentioned of what she did? She gets attention because God stops at nothing to resurrect her vital ministry at Joppa. Her ministry could very easily have been forgotten. She wasn’t an articulate theologian, a great preacher, or a miracle-worker. She wasn’t wealthy. All Acts says about her was she was “devoted…to good works and acts of charity.” That word used for “charity” can also be translated from the Greek to mean “almseeds.” Tabitha was a seed planter. She planted seeds of care for the needy and forgotten. The seeds of herself she gave away took root in the hearts of widows who longed for belonging that society did not give them. Her ministry was of the behind-the-scenes variety, as she quietly offered her own faith-based initiative to widows by providing the most basic need of clothing to them, all out of her own funds. So often, widows and widowers are the forgotten ones. But with her form of church-sponsored welfare, Tabitha never stopped planting seeds in them, and telling them God had not forgotten them.
I’m sure we could think of some Tabithas we have known here at United Lutheran. In this church’s eighty-one years there have been plenty of men and women who have not been the loudest or most talkative disciples; people who went about serving in small but vital ways that remembered those that could easily fall through the cracks. Who are the Tabithas that have touched your life here? Who have you seen behind the scenes planting seeds of care? The Tabithas of this church send cards to shut-ins; drive the elderly to the church, make health kits for Lutheran World Relief, and give Sunday worship flowers to the sick. These are not the flashiest or noticeable ministries of the church. But they remind us of Jesus, notices the invisible, who feeds the forgotten, who clothes us with compassion. Tabithas are essential to this church as we look to build faith and future for our congregation.
But death wants to put an end to Tabitha. It wants her clothes closet to remain shut. Death does not want her be mentioned in Acts, or for us to be speaking of her today. When death takes hold of Tabitha, it is so profoundly tragic for her community in Joppa, that the disciples summon Peter. He could help. He had already made two men walk: a man paralyzed from birth and another who had been bed-ridden for eight years. When Peter arrives in Joppa, the widows show Peter all the clothes Tabitha had made for them. I can’t help but be reminded of our beloved sister in Christ Pat, who at her unexpected funeral last year had many of her quilts placed on the chancel railing during her funeral. This was the same testament Tabitha’s community made for her. Death wanted Tabitha forgotten, and the life she gave to the lifeless to end.
And the forces of death also did not want Peter coming anywhere near Tabitha. The Spirit was upon him. He knew the power of the risen Christ to heal. The chief priests and elders in Jerusalem had already scolded him for his first healing. They saw that thousands were converted because of Peter’s testimony when he proclaimed that it wasn’t his own power or piety that brought healing, but the strong name of Jesus. The powerful forbid Peter to invoke that name ever again—that name that could do such amazing things. God-forbid, what if someone who was lame walked again? What if someone who was paralyzed got out of bed? I can almost hear the voice of Michael Scott, the boss in the television show The Office played by Steve Carrell, as the chief priests and elders try clumsily to micromanage Peter, and keep the power of the risen Jesus from spreading to more people. But human authority can’t stop Jesus from bringing Easter resurrection. We “cannot keep from speaking about what we have seen and heard.” (Acts 4:20)
Even death…even human authority…cannot hold Jesus back from these chief priests and elders, from Peter, from Tabitha, or from us. As Peter preaches in Acts, “God raised [Jesus on the third day], having freed him from death, because it was impossible for him to be held in its power.” (2:24) God initiates the resurrection of Jesus so powerfully, so resoundingly, cannot only be contained to Jesus. It has the power to break us free from the bonds of the evil one, to crush hell underfoot, and to raise us from death to new life. When Peter kneels down to pray at Tabitha’s deathbed, and he says with James Brown, “Get on up!”, she gets up! And Jesus does not just raise her to new life. He raises a whole community to new life. Tabitha becomes known even more throughout Joppa for her resurrection. The widows and saints see her and begin to dance! And many believe in the Lord because of what Jesus did. Jesus will not let death take us out of the palm of his hand. (John 10:28) And as one person has said, we have every reason to believe that we are in his hands, brothers and sisters, if for no other reason than we are here this morning, and we hear his voice.
This Easter season Jesus is busting loose! He’s busting out because death cannot hold him down. He is busting out in his presence that enters into even the broken pain of our lives; he is resurrecting we who long for his protection, and his care. He’s busting loose on we who long not to be forgotten. Where our soil is dry, and not producing anything ripe, he promises to walk in the valley with us, planting his seeds of resurrection. Jesus busts loose in Tabitha so that she can continue bearing his good fruit in the world. This is how Jesus wants us to remember Tabitha.
Before Tabitha dies and is resurrected, Acts sums up her life in this short and sweet way: “she was devoted to good works and acts of almseeds.” (9:36) In what kind of way would we like to be remembered? If we had to think about one sentence that would sum up our lives, what would we like other people say about us?
Even though we may wish our life told a different headline than what it now reads; even though we believe our story is all too insignificant in the larger scheme of the world…Jesus will never forget us. He will remember us no matter how visible or invisible we are. We don’t have to be flashy or do anything outrageous to be essential to the church. It can be as simple as holding open a door, or offering a glass of water, or giving five minutes to listen to someone who’s struggling. Jesus promises that he will remember even the smallest of almseeds that we plant. Jesus will not let death take hold of them. He will protect them. He will bust them loose so they may grow. And just maybe…someday…we will look up and see a whole field around us where all the grains of almseeds that have been scattered in Jesus’ name have grown into a wheatfield…and we’ll see a gazelle named Tabitha, walking around with the many gazelles of the church, grazing among us…all because of Christ, whose new life could not be contained by death. Amen.