Tabitha's Tunics -- and what they teach us about the purpose and the resurrection of the church in our times
Stories of Hope Clothing, Episode 3:
Hespeler, 3
April 2016 © Scott McAndless
Isaiah 58:1-10,
Acts 9:36-43, Matthew 25:31-40
D
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id you notice
that nobody asked Peter to do anything? Peter was in Lydda when a highly
respected and well-loved woman named Tabitha died in the nearby town of Joppa.
And people had obviously heard something about Peter. He had a certain
reputation for healing and for miracles, so they sent for him with an urgent
request that he come, but that was the whole content of the message. They didn’t
tell him that he was supposed to heal her (it was kind of too late for that
anyways). They didn’t ask him to come and do
anything – just come, please, as soon as you can.
And
when he came, even then, they didn’t actually ask anything of him. They just
took him to an upper room where they had laid out Tabitha’s body but they don’t
even seem to have pointed her out to him. No, what Peter actually saw and
noticed was not her body but a room full of weeping widows. They didn’t say
anything, they just wept and showed him their clothes. And that is why they
didn’t need to ask him to do anything. The clothes actually spoke much louder
than any words ever could have.
The
story of Tabitha in the Book of Acts, makes me ask, first of all, one immediate
and very important question. If you were Tabitha, what would the widows show to
Peter?
I
am often called upon, as you would expect, to speak at the funerals of people
who have passed away. I have always found it to be true that every person’s
life has something profound and beautiful to say to us at such times and I do
see it as a great honour and a privilege to be the one who gets to point out
some of those profound and beautiful things.
But
I have also noticed that there are often things that are deeper and stronger
than words at times like that. They are objects or actions that hold special
symbolic meaning and they often will prove far more enduring than the words we
say about someone who has died. People will cling to something that the
deceased gave to them or did for them and find great comfort in that. That was
what those widows were doing when Peter arrived.
Widows
are, in the Bible, kind of the stereotypical poor person. They were seen as the
most helpless and needy people in all of society. Of course, there are problems
with that stereotype. I would never be so foolish as to think of a widow (or
any woman unattached to a man) in such terms today! In fact, some of the
strongest and most capable people I have ever known have been widows or other
women who, by choice or by circumstance, navigate this world without a husband.
And
even the ancient perception that widows were helpless actually had nothing to
do with the capabilities of individual women. It was just that, in that
society, women were not permitted to
make their way in the world without a dominant male controlling them. They were
not allowed to participate in the economy in any honourable way and so they
were forced to be utterly dependant on charity.
So
these women in Joppa may have been very strong and confident women. They may
have even been practicing the freedom of the Christian gospel by choosing not
to be married. But they lived in a society that did not allow them to make
their own way apart from a dominant man. These women, because they broke the
conventions of society, became dependent on the community of the church.
And
Tabitha, had been particularly generous to them. But it obviously wasn’t just
the fact that she was generous that had moved them. She had made these clothes
with her own hands. Her generosity to them had been personal, caring and
individual. That’s what made the common, everyday tunics and dresses and robes they
were showing to Peter absolutely priceless in their minds. These tunics
represent to them everything that summed up Tabitha’s kindness, goodness and
love shown to them.
And
I don’t know about you, but if that were me and I had died or moved on in some
other way, I just think it would be really nice if, after I was gone, someone
could just hold up something and point to it and say, “This is something that
tells me that Scott was here and that his presence in this place mattered.” So
it is a really good question to ask, “what tunics would people show to Peter
after you were gone?”
But
actually, I have a much more urgent question to ask here today. The story of
Peter and Tabitha is a terrific story to read just after Easter because it is a
story of resurrection. Maybe I should have said, “spoiler alert,” before bringing
that up, but we did actually read the story and you heard how it ended. Tabitha
didn’t stay dead. So it would be very easy to take this story and apply it to
our post-resurrection hope as followers of Christ.
Certainly
one of the reasons why the early Christians remembered and repeated this story
was because it reminded them of their Easter hope in a life after death. The
life after death that we hope for is not exactly what happens to Tabitha. We
don’t expect Jesus to restore us to this
life again after we die, but rather to a different kind of life in a new place
that we can scarcely even imagine. But what Peter does for Tabitha is a
symbolic reminder of that hope for life after death.
But
there is, I think, another way to read this story as a story of resurrection.
After all, it is not just people who
die. Groups and organizations and institutions, they can die too. And, as a
matter of fact, we are living in an age when institutions are passing away more
quickly than ever before. Churches and congregations, in particular are
affected by this and they are passing away (or amalgamating or changing to such
a degree that they are unrecognizable) at an unprecedented rate today. So would
it not be a good question to ask, as believers in the power of resurrection,
what is the hope for resurrection for our churches and Christian institutions?
If
your church were to die (or go
through a radical change that might feel like death) what would you like to
leave behind from its life right now that would tell the world that it was
worth being here? Now, I know that when we think of our churches and the things
that make them special to us, we tend to focus on the things that have been
meaningful to us personally. We talk about our beautiful buildings and sanctuaries.
We talk about memorable moments in worship services and about the things we
have done there with our friends. We also have a certain tendency to go on and
on about past glories and to celebrate the way that things used to be.
Of
course, there is nothing wrong with loving these things about our churches. But
the story of Tabitha makes me wonder, when our congregations are dead (or when
they are transformed in coming years) what will make people remember them as
they were and believe that they were important? This story makes me think that
it may not be the buildings or the activities or the musical moments. What if,
in the end, what really matters are the pieces of clothing.
I
can think of this quite literally because we have, in this congregation, a
clothing ministry called Hope Clothing where we are regularly handing out really
good quality used clothing to people simply because they need it and can make
good use of it. So I do know just how meaningful such a simple act can be. I am
in the church often enough when people come in and bring their donations of
clothing. Just knowing that it is our intention to give it all away according
to need means a great deal to people in the world today – a world where used
clothing has become a big business that creates large profits for some.
I
also get to hear the stories that they tell me as they bring the clothes in.
Not too long ago, I had a woman come in bearing the clothes of her mother who
had passed away recently. She joyfully and sorrowfully (it’s amazing how the
two of them can go together sometimes) told me very sacred and holy things
about her mother and her sense of style and how she dressed and some of the
things she had struggled with over recent years. I know without a doubt that it
was a healing moment for her to be able to share her mother’s clothes and her
stories in that way. And providing that opportunity is absolutely something
that will last long beyond the present state of this congregation.
Of
course, I also get to be part of it when people come to take the clothes that
they need. We could tell you so many stories of people finding just the right
piece of clothing at the right time in order to go to a job interview or a
wedding or some other really important event. We could tell you stories of the
right piece of clothing showing up as a donation only minutes before someone
comes looking for that very thing. It is a little shop where minor miracles happen
every week. Sometimes you know you’re participating in a miracle when you are
just there and ready to respond when someone comes up against an emergency – a
house fire, a situation of abuse or whatever it might be.
And
let me tell you, if someday our congregation should cease to exist and the
Apostle Peter were to drop by and ask me what really mattered about St. Andrew’s
Hespeler, I think we could do a lot worse than to show him those pieces of
clothing that were shared and the impacts they had on people’s lives. I know he
would be moved by that. And of course, it is not always literally clothing but
it is the acts of kindness that manifest themselves in concrete things that are
shared with others.
For
example, last week I preached this sermon at St. Andrew’s Church in Guelph and
they don’t have a clothing ministry. They are, however working diligently
towards welcoming a refugee family into Canada. I promised them that the concrete
things that they do for that family will be of eternal value and will indeed
endure beyond the present life of their congregation.
So
I hope that this story of Tabitha might make us re-evaluate the things that we
feel are really important about our churches and ask ourselves what we really
need to spend our time and energy investing in as congregation. Maybe it is
time for some of those priorities to change.
But
remember that I said that this is a post Easter story. It is a story of the
power of Christ’s resurrection and what it can do for us in our churches today.
And I do see us living in an age where death is a real possibility for our
congregations. Please understand, however, that I am not, in any way, predicting
the death of St. Andrew’s Guelph or St. Andrew’s Hespeler. In neither case do I
see that as a likely possibility and I am not here as a prophet of doom today.
But
I will tell you this: we are living in days of great change for the church. We
have a Lord who will not abandon his church in these days. Christ will be with
his church through whatever change may come. That’s the good news. The somewhat
more troubling news is this: Christ has a particular strategy for renewal in
his church and in his people’s lives. And it is not a strategy of incremental
change that never makes us feel uncomfortable. Christ’s favourite strategy for
change is death and resurrection.
For
me that means that maybe even many of our strongest and liveliest churches may
be heading for a Tabitha moment – for a time when it may just feel like we have
been washed and laid out in a room upstairs and that we are done. I fully
expect many of our congregations to deal with moments like that in coming
years.
Why
would God allow us to go through such painful moments of loss? Not because he
has abandoned us. He will send for Peter to come and raise us up again to new
life and new beginnings. Christ will not abandon his church. So why would he put
us through that?
Well
maybe, just maybe, it’s because he wants us – like those widows in Joppa – to
realize what really matters about who we are and what we do as a church
together.
#TodaysTweetableTruth
The widows showed Peter Tabitha’s tunics proving she had mattered. What would
they show him after yr church was gone?
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