Acts 9:36-43
A beautiful name, gazelle, an animal that is known
to be swift and small, graceful in its movements. Her name may have been chosen
for these reasons. Perhaps her parents hoped for her to be lovely and gentle,
and bring more beauty to the world. We know that in her heart and soul she was
truly lovely; we know that through her care for others she brought beauty to
the world; we know that she was deeply loved by many.
Tabitha was quick to serve anyone around her who was
in need. She took especially good care of the widows in her community. It might
be easy for us to forget, but in that time a widow was an especially vulnerable
person. Without any rights of her own, it was the custom for a woman to be
shifted from the care of her father to her husband. If her husband died before
her, she became the responsibility of her son. But if she had no grown sons to
care for her, then she was a widow and in a bad way – utterly alone and
defenseless in the world.
This is the reason why the law of Israel spoke
clearly about the care of widows, as well as orphans and aliens – or
immigrants, as we would say now. These were people who needed someone to care
for them. And Tabitha was a woman who committed herself to caring for them.
The women of Joppa loved her. With Tabitha, they
didn’t feel like they were a burden, as some others might have made them feel.
With Tabitha, they knew themselves to be loved, the most precious thing we can
imagine. Tabitha loved these poor women and cared for them with a fierce
loyalty. We can tell that the feeling was mutual.
But then she died.
Their grief was palpable. Weeping, they washed and
laid out her body. They gathered around her to begin their mourning. They
carried in with them the tunics she had made for them.
It was much like the kind of funeral you and I might
attend. They gathered together and told about the ways Tabitha had lived and
cared for them, they showed the ways she had demonstrated her love, the love of
God working in her. They gave thanks for her life at the same time they
tearfully mourned her death.
They invited Peter to come. Peter, the rock of
Christ’s church, should know this model of discipleship that Tabitha was, even
if only after her death. The women gave their testimonies – each of them spoke of
how Tabitha’s life force had touched them, even saved them. These widows knew
that every day their lives were close to the edge. They knew how vulnerable
they were. Tabitha not only pulled them from the edge, she afforded them
dignity. They knew that because Tabitha had lived, they lived.
And Peter was deeply moved by this display of love.
He knelt beside her body and prayed. He said to her,
Tabitha, get up. Then Tabitha rose.
For people who know the Bible well, this is a
familiar story. When we hear it, it takes us back to a story in Mark’s gospel
in which Jesus is called to the bedside of a synagogue leader’s daughter. The
child was dead and everyone around her was weeping, grieving this loss of life.
Jesus said to her, little girl, get up. Then she rose.
But that’s not all. This story of Jesus reminds us of
a story from the Old Testament about the prophet Elijah. When he was staying
with the widow of Zerephath. This poor woman had a young son; he became ill and
died. In grief she called to Elijah. Elijah took the little boy in his arms and
carried him up and laid him on his own bed. He stretched out his own body on
top of the boy, crying out, praying out loud. And the boy’s breath returned to
him. And there is yet another story about the prophet Elisha, who revived the
dead son of the Shunamite woman, much like Elijah had done before him.
Story after story in the scriptures tell of God’s
capacity to bring life. It goes all the way back to the beginning of Genesis
when God speaks life into the world, out of nothing at all. Hard to believe,
right?
We live in a world that scarcely thinks about
anything beyond ourselves. We busy ourselves with the day-to-day dreariness and
challenges, hopes and small pleasures. We fill our days with the mundane, and
it may be that we never ever think about God until we suddenly find ourselves
standing at the edge of an abyss. Not knowing where to turn, how to take
another step. Only when we know that there is no way on earth we can be
saved…then we may know the God who is able to break into the world with life.
I cannot explain any of these stories about life
restored, but I don’t really want to explain them. We do not explain, but
merely witness the divine power of God to reassert, again and again, that God
is for life.
And if we, too, are for life as God is for life,
then we also will support and care for the vulnerable ones.
In our nation today, to be for life, or pro-life,
means only one thing: to be anti-abortion. But the truth is not so simple. To
be for life means much, much more. We must care for the lives who have already
been born – the children who lack adequate food and housing. The ones whom our
society has made to feel less than everyone else. The women who find themselves
in a situation in which there are no good options – none – and gently, lovingly
give them the space to make the best decisions they can for themselves. To show
care and compassion for all of these, as Tabitha did, is to be for life in the
ways that God is for life.
And only when we are doing these things, when we are
lifting up the downtrodden, seeing their worth as God’s beloved. Only when we
are valuing and caring for, affording dignity and respect to, every life at
every stage of life, only then can we truly say we are pro-life as God is
pro-life.
It does not start with the unborn. It begins with
the ones who are already here.
Photo by Pixabay: https://www.pexels.com/photo/close-up-of-pink-flower-248068/
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