text :: Acts 9: 36 – 43

theme verse :: “Peter put all of them outside, and then he knelt down and prayed. He turned to the body and said, ‘Tabitha, get up.’” (Acts 9:40)

The people of Joppa cared for Tabitha – a woman of generosity and talent, and a model of faith. When she dies and they are distraught, they trust in Peter to be able to do something in their crisis. When it comes to giving, where do we place our trust? Do we trust our choices, our sources, our decisions? What do we need to get us up, moving, and changing the world?

anthem :: 'There Is A Balm in Gilead' (H.Helvey) : Chancel Choir; Barry Epperley, guest director

reader :: Lisa Rhynes
preaching :: Rev Courtney Richards

response :: 'I Will Follow' (C.Tomlin) : The Rising Band; Isaac Herbert, leader

Acts 9: 36 – 43
Now in Joppa there was a disciple whose name was Tabitha, which in Greek is Dorcas. She was devoted to good works and acts of charity. ³⁷ At that time she became ill and died. When they had washed her, they laid her in a room upstairs. ³⁸ Since Lydda was near Joppa, the disciples, who heard that Peter was there, sent two men to him with the request, “Please come to us without delay.” ³⁹ So Peter got up and went with them; and when he arrived, they took him to the room upstairs. All the widows stood beside him, weeping and showing tunics and other clothing that Dorcas had made while she was with them. ⁴⁰ Peter put all of them outside, and then he knelt down and prayed. He turned to the body and said, “Tabitha, get up.” Then she opened her eyes, and seeing Peter, she sat up. ⁴¹ He gave her his hand and helped her up. Then calling the saints and widows, he showed her to be alive. ⁴² This became known throughout Joppa, and many believed in the Lord. ⁴³ Meanwhile he stayed in Joppa for some time with a certain Simon, a tanner.

Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can. So said the late great Arthur Ashe. Words for athletic endeavors like world class tennis … and for stewardship, generosity, and daily living.

Such generosity – where you are, what you have, what you can – was on full display the year that writer and film critic Sheila O’Malley was mourning the death of her father. She tells a story that’s worth retelling.[1]

The year after my dad died was so bad I don’t remember 90% of it. I moved to a new apt and was unable to unpack. For MONTHS. I was ashamed I couldn’t unpack. How can you be UNABLE to unpack? Just open the {darn} boxes. That was the year I cried for 19 days. Straight. /1

 My good friend David – whom I’ve known since high school – knew I was struggling and he felt helpless. He said “you are loved” “we need you”. I was like, “Doesn’t matter, but thanks.” So he took a risk. It very well could have ended badly. I could have lashed out. /2

 I could have been really REALLY offended. But he took the risk. He sent out an email to a group of local friends (w/out my knowledge) and said, “Sheila is struggling. She needs our help. Let’s all go over there and unpack her apartment for her. Bring food. Let’s make it fun.” /3

 David sent me an email saying “will you be home Thursday night? Can I stop by?” I said “Sure.” Sitting surrounded by 200 unpacked boxes. /4

 At 6 pm on Thursday night the doorbell rang and 10 of my friends barged in, bearing platters of food, cleaning products, and complete unconcern for my ‘wait … you CAN’T COME IN HERE I HAVEN’T UNPACKED YET” protestations. They ignored me and got to work. /5

 They unpacked my boxes. They put away my 1,500 books. They hung pictures for me. They organized my closet and put away all my clothes. Meanwhile, someone set up a taco-making station in the kitchen. People brought beer. By the end of the night, my apartment was all set up. /6

 I literally was unable to do THE SIMPLEST THINGS. And nobody judged me. They were like superheroes sweeping in. One friend arrived late, stood in the hallway, looked at me and said, “PUT ME TO WORK.” /7

 One of my friends basically took over hanging all of my posters and pictures. “I’m really good at measuring stuff. Let me put all these up in your hallway.” I hovered, not wanting to give up control: “wait … put that one there maybe?” She said, “Go away.” I did. /8

 And she was so much better at hanging stuff than I was!   Here are my friends putting away my books. /9

Here’s a break for dinner. Please note that my friend Sheila’s dinner plate is resting on my DVD player. /10

 I was overwhelmed at the sight of all of my crazy friends turning themselves into Santa’s workshop. On my behalf. W/out asking me. They just showed up and barged in. I was embarrassed for like 10 minutes but they were all so practical and bossy I had no choice but to let that go.

 At the end of the night, I looked at my friend’s husband – a quiet taciturn guy who drives a tugboat on the Hudson – practical, man of few words – and I just looked at him, speechless, not knowing how to say Thank You, especially to this tough resilient self-sufficient man.

 He looked at me, saw the look on my face, understood the look, understood everything that was behind it – and said, “Listen, baby, what we did today was a barn-raising.”

 That’s the end. The “ask for help” advice is well-meaning but not really thought through. There’s shame, there’s enforced helplessness, there’s the feeling you’re not worth it, etc. My friends didn’t wait for me to ask. They showed up. They took over. They didn’t ask.

 When they all swept out of there 4 hours later, my place was a home. Not only was everything put away – but now it had a memory attached to it, a group memory, friends, laughing, dirty jokes, hard work. These are the kinds of friends I have. Be that kind of friend to others.

 To reiterate: this plan could have backfired. I very well could have been offended, insulted, hurt. David took that risk. Being a friend takes commitment. A willingness to take that risk.

Commitment. A willingness to take a risk.
Sounds a lot like faith. Like faithfulness. Like generosity.

Tabitha is the only woman in the New Testament explicitly called a disciple.[2] In Acts – more formally called The Acts of the Apostles – we see the earliest formations of church, what it first looked like, right after Jesus, to be disciples: followers, those who learned from and were first to live out the ways of Jesus Christ. It is clear in this story that care for the community, specifically care for the widows, was a critical part of being church, one of the distinct characteristics of living in the ways of Jesus.

The disciples are so distressed at Tabitha’s death, they send two men for Peter. Her acts of charity, her good works, are obviously profound, far-reaching, and well-known. It’s been suggested that Tabitha was likely widowed herself, hosting a home for other widows, caring for them, particularly by sewing and providing clothes.[3] When Peter arrives to the house, the women who are with Tabitha, who have already prepared her body for burial, pour out their grief by showing him what Tabitha had done in her life – what she made, how she’d given, who she was.

Earlier in Acts, we see Peter called into the role of healing and restoring those believed to be lost.[4] Each time, not only is the person healed, but those who witness the healing come to believe in Jesus. In this way, Peter earns credibility and notoriety, which is why the disciples come to him about Tabitha.

An important thing to notice here: Peter prays first, and then resuscitates her. His healing isn’t magic, but evidence of his close relationship with Jesus. Peter only says two things: He calls her by name, and tells her to her ‘get up’. Nothing else. He is confident in the power Christ gave to his disciples to do their work, and he never tries to claim it for his own. Because of his work, many come to believe not in Peter, but in Jesus.

This story is about more than healing, though. It’s about a community’s chance – even in the midst of their grief – to remember someone because of their gifts.[5] And it is that story of Tabitha – her generosity – that is her legacy, just as much and more than her having been raised to new life. Where does this lead us?

Scholar and pastor Peter Gomes suggests:[6]

 The question should not be ‘What would Jesus do?’ but rather, and more dangerously ‘What would Jesus have me do?’ The onus is not on Jesus but on us, for Jesus did not come to ask semidivine human beings to do impossible things. He came to ask human beings to live up to their full humanity; he wants us to live in the full implications of our human gifts, and that is far more demanding. Anyone can evade responsibility by attempting the impossible and failing; what Jesus asks is that we do what is possible, and that is the challenge that makes life interesting.

It has been said that Where love leads, love follows. The level of description of Tabitha’s death makes us consider what it means, why it’s included this way. We come to realize that it’s not just important to note what it meant to these women – to her whole community – that she died, but that what it meant that she lived. Hers was a life of generosity.

In praying before he tells Tabitha to get up, Peter isn’t doing the actual healing. “He acts as a channel through whom Jesus’ ministry continues.” Such stories in Acts never say that the disciples are replacing Jesus, or even equal to him – but remind us that they’ve carried on in his name, just as he gave them the power and instruction to do[7] – and it matters and it’s working!

You are well aware of the ways Harvard Avenue Christian Church carries on in Jesus’ name … the ways we take seriously the gospel good news of God’s love for all people, and Jesus’ call to go into the world as the kind of disciples who show that great love of God to others. We gather in this worship space every week to praise the One who brings us into being: to hear the word proclaimed, to soak in the overflow of the gift of music, to receive the simplest bread and cup, in the deepest confidence that we ‘get up’ transformed by those gifts.

You know that we’ve just finished a host week for Family Promise. One of the first congregational partners as this ministry took shape in Tulsa, we share in the care of families 4 to 5 times a year, offering shelter, meals, companionship, safety, and rest. Nearly 100 volunteer spaces each host week are taken by folks at Harvard Ave who’ve heard the call to ‘get up’ and whose generosity is their legacy.

You can see that in the last decade, participation in youth and children’s ministries has nearly tripled. We are serving not just ‘church kids’ but their friends, the ones they can’t wait to invite to join them from one week to the next. With more ways for families to connect, and more opportunities for our youngest faithful to deeply and truly know the love of God, Harvard Avenue takes our core values – be loved, believe, become – and says ‘get up,’ young faithful, and take those into your world.

You are well aware that over the last five (or more) years, this congregation has been the lead giver to the annual offering supporting Week of Compassion. Through our gifts to our denomination’s disaster relief, refugee resettlement, and sustainable development ministry, we extend the hand of Christ, we share in Christ’s ministry; when a neighbor, a sibling, a family member is down, we can say ‘get up’ – here is hope.

You are so familiar with all of these big ways that your gifts – your generosity – make ministry possible. You know what it means to hear Christ’s call: Harvard Avenue, get up.

But do you know what else your giving makes possible? When your pledge cards are turned in, and your pledges and offerings are kept up as contributions throughout the year, generosity spreads. Being generous makes us more generous. When we do what Jesus has taught us to do, others can see in us who Jesus is. Where love leads, love follows.

You create space for the fastest growing sport in the country, a hybrid of tennis, badminton, and table tennis. Dozens of people play pickleball here every week. Some of you sitting in the sanctuary this morning even found us first because of pickleball. And the pickleball faithful give back to the church: donations of school supplies, financial gifts, outreach support, sharing a good word about the church in the community … even moving tables sometimes when the need arises!
Harvard Avenue, get up.

You’ve made space for decades for women to gather each week to sew and serge and craft and be together. The Craft Crowd space is not just a creative gathering for their own work, but a generous one for the community. Just this week, more than 100 baby sets – bibs, burp cloths, and blankets – were delivered to Emergency Infant Services.
Harvard Avenue, get up.

You’ve inspired our church family to give in small quiet ways that are easy to miss: once a month shopping trips to pick up dinner ingredients to supply the evening meal at the Tulsa Day Center for the Homeless. Planting flowers and greenery around the Harvard Avenue sign. Making a gift to have live green plants placed and cared for in the commons areas and narthex.
Harvard Avenue, get up.

You are building relationships that are so deep that as soon as a concern is named, you’re asking how to help. When unspeakable tragedy lands in our midst, you are sitting right next to your friend to give whatever support is needed. When a name is spoken for a health concern or a loss or a celebration, your first response is to be in prayer. When there are Thanksgiving dinner tickets to be had, there is always someone who says privately, ‘Keep this, and let someone who may not buy a ticket come to the dinner on me.’
Harvard Avenue, get up.

You have created a place where seemingly simple gifts make a huge impact: a bereavement team that provides perfect receptions and care for our families at funerals; a cadre of volunteers that makes sure, every single Sunday, you have coffee, and tea, and donuts; a quiet and constant team of folks each week who fold bulletins, count offering, prepare newsletters, send reminder cards. All so that all of this … ministry … can happen, day in and day out.
Harvard Avenue, get up.

What Sheila O’Malley said of her friends swarming in to unpack her apartment was probably true of Peter stepping in to raise Tabitha … and is probably true of us when we are stepping out on faith, to be generous, to be faithful: this plan could have backfired. {Someone} very well could have been offended, insulted, hurt. But we take that risk. {Being generous} takes commitment. A willingness to take that risk.

We have pledge cards. We have online pledging. We need these from you, and soon. And we need your consistency in the pledges that go with them. It’s just a fact of ministry. And yet I can say with every confidence that I know you will respond. And I am so grateful to serve a church where that is true.

Here is mine. I’m putting it in the offering plate today.

Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can.

Where love leads, love follows.

Harvard Avenue, all of us need all of us. We are praying. Christ is calling.

Harvard Avenue, get up.

[1] Sheila O’Malley @sheilakathleen https://twitter.com/sheilakathleen/status/1005116845240848385
[2] Carol Newsom & Sharon Ringe, eds., Women’s Bible Commentary (WJK 1992),  p309-310
[3] Barbara Reid, New Interpreter’s Study Bible (Abingdon 2003), p1975
[4] Temple beggar (3:1-8), Aeneas (9:32-35)
[5] Robert Wall, New Interpreter’s Bible Commentary: Acts (Abingdon 2002), p160-170
[6] Peter Gomes, The Scandalous Gospel of Jesus (HarperOne 2007), p69-79
[7] Matthew Skinner, Intrusive God, Disruptive Gospel (Brazos Press 2015), p74-77