Tuesday, May 3, 2022

"Tabitha, Get Up!" (Reflections on Easter 4, Year C 2022)

 


“She was devoted to good works and acts of charity.” (Luke 9:36) 

In my time in the ministry in Northeast Philly I’ve officiated almost 900 funeral services. I’m yet to raise anyone from the dead. Unlike Saint Peter in our First Lesson for Easter 4, Year C in the RCL (Acts 9:36-43), I haven’t received the gift of miraculous healing. I can only talk about the promise of eternal life without the ability to do an in-home demonstration. But we each have our own gifts, don’t we? I’ll be content just to retell the stories and—if I’m good at it—shed some light on a few interesting details in hope of giving you some helpful insight.

 First the obvious stuff: Luke parallels this story of the raising of Tabitha with the story in chapter 8 of his gospel[i] of how Jesus raised an official’s preteen daughter. In Mark’s gospel, Jesus raises the little girl by using the phrase “talitha cumi,” and translates it as “little girl, get up.” Although Luke doesn’t use the Hebrew[ii] expression, he must’ve figured everyone knew the story and would catch the similarities between “talitha” and Tabitha.[iii] I guess the point would be that Peter, that one-time scaredy cat who was too pusillanimous to admit he even knew Jesus, is now so full of faith and the Holy Spirit he can do the same miracles the Lord himself did. Take that for what it’s worth. 

I’m a little more interested in some of the minor stuff in this story. I always liked the fact that the widows introduce Tabitha to Peter by showing him all the stuff she’d sewed and made for others. You know: kind of like that scarf your grandma knitted for you. Or the duvet your best friends quilted for you as a wedding present. I have a lot of cool stoles I wear with my vestments, but my favorite is my scarlet Pentecost stole which was designed and sewn by both of my sisters for my ordination. My sister Lorraine lives in Colorado and my sister Maryanne is deceased now, but when I wear that stole, I have a little bit of their love wrapped around me. 

There’s something very powerful in gifts that were made by hand. They have so much more value than the cost of the materials. When the widows show Peter these tunics and other garments, they’re showing their friend’s talent as well as her love. 

I have to give a shout-out to Dr. Raj Nadella, a professor of New Testament at the Columbia Theological Seminary in Columbia, GA who did the commentary on this text for the Working Preacher website.[iv]Dr. Nadella pointed out that the Greek which is translated above as “acts of charity” would actually be literally translated as “alms that she continually did.[v]” Now “alms” and “acts of charity” have a bit of a distinction if you ask me. Tabitha didn’t just volunteer at the food bank. She “almed” too. That is, she may have been a pretty well-off old gal, and she made hefty donations to the widows in Joppa. Luke always likes to make a big whoop out of the fact that folks in the beloved community are generous. 

The text says nothing about there being a Mr. Tabitha around, so this lady was either some kind of heiress or she was a widow herself. And widow ladies like to stick together. I doubt there is a Christian congregation on the face of the earth that doesn’t have a group of older, wiser dames who like to hang out with each other and have each other’s backs. They just grow together organically because they’ve all been to the same rodeo. When my mom went into assisted living, the widows of our home church mobilized like a platoon of Marines and figured out who would visit Marie, who would do her shopping, who would take her to the doctor’s office, and who would drive her to church. Our pastor noted that the widows needed her as much as she needed them. 

But there’s always one gal who is the epoxy that holds the community together. She’s the one who makes the phone calls and the reservations for lunch and keeps the others in her prayers. She brings the casseroles to the potlucks and runs the church kitchen and tells Pastor when someone has gone into the hospital or when someone’s granddaughter is having a baby. These “Tabitha” ladies support the community with donations and time and prayer and concern. When they’re gone, the community is never the same. 

Dr. Nadella noticed that Luke gives more attention to the works Tabitha did—making clothes, giving alms, being mourned by the community, and he even tells her Greek name—than he gives to any of the consecrated male deacons mentioned in chapter 6 (with the sole exception of Stephen the martyr). He also noticed that there weren’t any other men around in this story. This is a salute to the faithful women and the love they have for each other. 

The passage ends with many of the good folks of Joppa coming to believe in Jesus because of the miracle of Tabitha’s resurrection. I like to think God restored her because this community just wasn’t ready to do without her yet. Maybe it was that her faith was infectious, that her love for the community became the presence of God people needed to see so they, too, could believe. And if you’ve ever in your life been comforted or strengthened by a “Tabitha," you have been blessed indeed.

 



[i] 8:40-56 if you want to look it up.

[ii] Or is it Aramaic? I’m not really sure, but the two languages are kind of similar. You know: Like Spanish and Portuguese.

[iii] After all, he cribbed much of his gospel from Mark anyway.

[iv] My go-to place to steal sermon ideas.

[v] elehmosunwn wn epoiei for all you Greek language fans

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