Acts 9:36-43

Acts 9:36-43

³⁶ 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.

Theme of Acts 9:36-43 is Peter raising a woman to life in Jaffa. As I will show, in the stories we have of Elijah, Elisha, Jesus and Peter we have stories that perform two acts simultaneously which cut to the heart of the best idealistic visions of Jewish faith - that the poor (personified by the widows) should be cared for, and that death should lose its power over humanity.

In context, Tabitha's story takes place at a critical juncture of the story of Acts. At the beginning of Chapter 9, Saul of Tarsus is still an active threat to the Christian church, but by verse 30, he had had his experience on the Damascus road, and Luke tells us in verse 31 that the church in Judea, Galilee and Samaria now had peace and flourished. These three territories constitute the Jewish homeland. By stating that the church in these areas was doing well and growing in number, Luke sets the stage for the expansion of the church into Gentile lands. 

The two miracles that follow the conversion and calling of Paul in Chapter 9 clearly demonstrate that the church, and especially its leader Peter, received the power of Christ in a way that filled it and prepared it to convert the world, beginning with the Gentile centurion Cornelius, who appears immediately in Chapter 10. Even the physical setting of Tabitha's story is halfway between the Jewish world and the Gentile world. Tabitha's city, Joppa, is modern-day Jaffa, just to the south of Tel Aviv. The town of Joppa was just a few miles from Samaria on the Plain of Sharon. The present-day St. Peter’s Church, which is located on a coastal cliff south of the border of modern Tel Aviv, commemorates the mission of Peter to Joppa recorded by our text.

Luke makes the point that the apostles can stand comparison with the prophets of the OT.  Luke is interested in the two stories because it brings Peter from Jerusalem to Caesarea and shows the spread of the church.  They have established congregations in Judea, Samaria, and Galilee.  They have accomplished the task in Palestine, and it is time for the Christian mission to seek goals farther afield.

³⁶ Now in Joppa there was a disciple (μαθήτρια) whose name was Tabitha, which in Greek is Dorcas [both names mean “gazelle”]. She was devoted to good works and acts of charity (πλÞρης ἔργων ἀγαθῶν). As a tombstone inscription in Shrewsbury, England put it, "For the Lord Jesus Christ's sake do all the good you can to all the people you can in all the ways you can, as long as ever you can." Our deeds determine us, as much as we determine our deeds.^[1] I invite you to reflect a moment upon the power of this summary of the life of Tabitha. How would you summarize your life? She was indeed a unique individual in the book of Acts in that Luke refers to her with the feminine-gendered word meaning "disciple." This is the only occurrence in the New Testament of the female form of disciple.  Just like the usual masculine-gendered word, the feminine title simply means, "one who has received instruction or teaching.” The fact that Tabitha is the only person for whom the New Testament uses feminine-gendered title of disciple, however, does not mean that she was the only female disciple. Like Hebrew, Greek does not have a distinct way to describe mixed-gendered groups of people and commonly uses the masculine plural even for groups with many women present. Because of this, the text often hides the presence of women among the early disciples. This is not the case with Tabitha, however. Luke speaks of her alone, and he uses the feminine title to describe her. Another woman who is unusual for having a common masculine title applied to her in the feminine form is Phoebe, who, in Romans 16:1, Paul refers to as a "deaconess" or female minister. In Acts, there is a distinction made between "disciples" (which included both men and women who had received instruction in the teachings of Jesus), and the original 12 "apostles," whose restoration to 12 by the election of Matthias after the betrayal of Judas Luke records in Acts 1:15-26.  ³⁷ At that time she became ill and died. This story shows a concern Jesus and the New Testament have with the poor and with the grief of death. When they had washed her, they laid her in a room upstairs. They washed the body, but did not anoint it, in hope of resurrection.  The room referred to has its basis on Old Testament models in I Kings 17:17 and II Kings 4:32. ³⁸ Since Lydda was near Joppa [three hours on foot], Luke refers to a group he calls the disciples (μαθηταὶ). Of course, “disciple” is a common enough term for Luke — what should give us pause is how any disciples yet existed in Joppa. Luke has thus far said nothing about any Christian mission to this geographical area. Either some Christians existed in Joppa before Peter arrived (from some earlier, unmentioned mission) or one can apply the term “disciple” to a person who had not yet heard the message of Jesus Christ. Neither option fits very well into Luke’s narrative world, which has led some scholars to propose that Luke adapted these two miracle stories (9:32-35 and 9:36-43) from another source without making sure the details lined up with his own sense of the story. One can defend the scholarly opinion further by noting Luke’s use of the unusual term μαθήτρια a word used nowhere else in the New Testament, for “disciple” in verse 36. The disciples heard that Peter was there, sent two men to him with the request, "Please come to us without delay." No explicit mention of what they desire. Why did the disciples at Joppa want Peter to visit so badly? However, the Greek words carry a connotation of urgency coupled with fear that Peter might not be willing to come. The messengers do not use a simple or polite form of invitation here; they are in a serious hurry, and they are worried Peter will not agree to come in time. Now in the case of a sick person, we could understand this interaction between the disciples from Joppa and Peter. However, in the case of a dead person, one cannot easily explain the desire for Peter’s visit. Did the disciples in Joppa expect that Peter had the power to resurrect? In Luke’s world, Jesus had not received the designation as having that power, as it had been in the gospel of John. There are a couple plausible ways to resolve this confusion. On the one hand, the messengers might have wanted Peter to visit soon so that he could see Tabitha before they would bury her in a few days. On the other hand, the people in Joppa might have thought that she was not dead beyond recovery. One strand of wisdom in the ancient Near East maintained that the soul lingered near the body for up to three days after death. These disciples thought that, as in the familiar stories of Elijah and Elisha, the soul could be convinced to stay by the power of God. Some scholars even think that Jesus waited a couple of days before raising Lazarus to be sure that he was completely dead. 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. I invite you to reflect upon what the people you love will say about you that will express their sorrow now that you are gone from them. The reference to "widows" may be a reference to those possessing what would become a specific office of the church. Alternatively, the group may have included professional mourners who had already gathered in the upper chamber of the house where Tabitha’s washed and prepared body was lying. ⁴⁰ Peter put all of them outside, and then he knelt down and prayed. Given the healing stories thus far, we could assume that he prayed “in the name of Jesus,” but we do not know, for Luke does not record the prayer. However, a third curiosity in the narrative occurs in the form of the miracle’s efficacy. Many of the healings performed by Jesus’ disciples in the synoptic gospels and Acts manifest their power through the invocation of Jesus’ name. Previously in Acts, for example, Peter healed a crippled man at the Beautiful Gate through the power of “the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth” (3:6), but here in 9:40, the name of Jesus is not used as a medium of efficacy to raise Tabitha from the dead. Whatever form of prayer Peter used to resurrect her, it was either silent or unrecorded. It is noteworthy that the connection of Jesus’ name with miraculous healing was so well established that some ancient Latin, Syriac, and Coptic manuscripts of the New Testament append a phrase — “in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ” — to Peter’s words in verse 40. He turned to the body and said, "Tabitha, get up." Then she opened her eyes, and seeing Peter, she sat up. It verbally echoes II Kings 4:33 and Mark 5:40.  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. The narrator ends this account in a typically Lukan fashion by noting where and with whom Peter resides during the rest of his stay in Joppa. ⁴³ Meanwhile he stayed in Joppa for some time with a certain Simon, a tanner (βυρσεῖ). The miracle story concludes by introducing Peter’s host in Joppa, Simon the tanner, who plays a small role in the subsequent story with Cornelius (10:6, 32). Some scholars have noted that the Judaism of the rabbinic era despised the occupation of “tanner.” Throughout several sections of the Talmud, rabbis suspected tanners of immorality and general uncleanness, perhaps because their work involved an unpleasant smell. Therefore, by lodging with a tanner for several nights, Luke might portray Peter as furthering the transition from the Jewish mission to the Gentile mission. His acceptance of hospitality from this man, viewed as unclean by many Jewish leaders, foreshadows Peter’s subsequent interactions with Cornelius and eventually, the Gentile mission of Paul.        

First, I invite you to reflect upon some of the biblical parallels to this event. I think such a reflection can help us appreciate why Luke, places this simple story between the stories of Paul (9) and Peter (10). These men would have large responsibilities and sufferings as apostles. Yet, Luke places this little story where he does. 

The circumstances of this death recall two earlier experiences Peter had with Jesus. One was the death of Lazarus (John 11:1-44). Like Peter now, Jesus was then in another community when Lazarus took ill, and Jesus, too, had visitors summon him to go to Bethany as soon as possible. In that memorable case, Jesus seemed in no hurry to arrive and, indeed, Lazarus died before he showed up. In the other case, the visitors asked Jesus to visit the house of Jairus where Jairus' 12-year-old daughter was dying (Mark 5:35-43, Luke 8:40-42, 49-56). One difference is the absence of the motive of faith in Acts 9. Nevertheless, this is no argument against a strong connection, as the theme of faith is dispensable here because Luke made that clear in the description of Tabitha. By the time Jesus reached the house, the child had died. Since a crowd of family and professional mourners had already arrived, Jesus showed them to the door so that he could be alone with her, with Peter, James, and John there as observers. When Jesus said, "Child, get up!" (Luke 8:54), the child arose and was given something to eat.  Both the raising of Tabitha, and the healing of the paralytic Aeneas, which occurs in 9:32-35, echo miracles performed by Jesus in his earthly ministry. Peter tells the paralytic to rise and make his bed, much like Jesus tells the paralytic in Luke 5:17-26 to "take up" his bed and walk. Tabitha's healing echoes the healing of Jairus' daughter (Luke 8:49-56), but strangely enough, the most interesting parallel comes from the Markan version (Mark 5:41). In this version of the story, Jesus takes the girl's hand and says in Aramaic, "Talitha qumi," "Get up little girl!" In Acts 9:40, Peter says to Tabitha in Greek, "Tabitha anasteythi," "Get up Tabitha!" Although the Lukan version of Jesus' healing of Jairus' daughter does not quote Jesus in Aramaic, both Luke's and Mark's version of the story tell us that Peter was in the room to witness the miracle! Another similarity to the gospel miracle is the fact that before raising Tabitha, Peter is said to clear the room of nonessential persons just as Jesus did in Mark 5:40 and Luke 8:51. Thus, in some ways, the miracle story of Tabitha’s healing is unremarkable. It follows the pattern of other miracle stories in the synoptic tradition.

Indeed, the details of the story hearken all the way back to the Elijah-Elisha cycle in I and II Kings. For example, Peter has everyone leave the room so that he is alone before the healing (Acts 9:40), just as Elijah does in I Kings 17:19 and Elisha does in II Kings 4:33. The use of the “upper room” might recall the story in I Kings 17:19, although in a typical home of this time period, the upper room would likely be the only place with the requisite privacy for exposing a corpse. I Kings 17:10-24 tells the story of Elijah and the widow who lived in Zarephath. She helps him with lodging, and he provides the miracle of the jar of meal and the oil, which have endless supply. Yet, her son dies, so she is angry with the prophet. The prophet carries him to the upper chamber, stretches upon him, prays, and breath returns. The widows, whom Tabitha supported and cared for, and their obvious distress at the death of the one who so helped them, remind one of I Kings 17:17-24, in which Elijah is called on to raise the son of the widow of Zarephath from the dead. Again, here is a poor widow, robbed of her only support in the world, who finds salvation in the power of the prophet to raise her lost loved one from the dead. Similarly, Elisha raises the only son of the Shunammite woman from the dead (II Kings 4:18-37), a child he had interceded with God to provide so the woman would not be left without support when her elderly husband died and left her a widow (II Kings 4:14). Elisha dismisses people from the room of the dead son of a woman, lying on him, the boy sneezed seven times and came to life. I will grant, however, that a closer parallel to the Elijah and Elisha stories is Jesus' raising the only son of the widow of Nain from the dead (Luke 7:11-17).   

            The combination of resurrection with the care for the poor, just as Peter and Paul are poised to spread Christianity to the Gentile world, echoes Jesus' own statements about his mission in Luke 4:26. Here Jesus holds up Elijah's rising of the son of the widow of Zarephath as the pattern of his own ministry, contrasting her faith with the lack of faith he has found among his own people. Jesus himself begins the mission to the Gentiles in Luke's gospel, and here in Acts, just as Peter is to take up that mission, he performs a miracle that echoes the very one Jesus used to validate his own acceptance of and ministry with Gentile persons. To complete this miracle tradition, Paul also raises a boy from the dead, in Acts 20:9-12, but there is no widow in the picture here. Thus, one sees an emphasis on the more complete gospel soon to spread throughout the world in the story of Tabitha, where God denies death and the poor have their champion restored to them. Peter, reflecting on both of these events, now arrives at the home of the deceased where the widows had already gathered, including those who had been the recipients of Tabitha’s good deeds and much kindness. They already displayed her needlework and passed among the crowd as a reminder of the industrious character that had possessed this woman whom they now sorely missed.

Second, this story reminds us of the somber reality that we can all be replaced. I believe that. One day, someone will replace us. The world goes on. If we recognize this, it might provide us with a bit of humility about our contribution to this world. The reality is that if we die today, many of the roles we now fill someone else fills.[2]

Third, the other side of the story is that each of us is a unique creation of God. We are each uniquely gifted persons, particular creations of God, with certain skill sets, abilities, and aptitudes. If we do not serve God, our families, our church, or our communities in the way only WE can uniquely serve, then someone else will do it, but not in the way only we can do it. In fact, our Creator may have intended the accomplishment of the task in the unique way only you could do.  We are not carbon copies of each other. If each of us summarized our lives, we might have related stories, but we are not the same. We might give voice to the thought that each of us is replaceable. It is not true. Each death has a tragic dimension to it. Some deaths seem even more unfortunate. It feels like this death is not right. This death feels like an intrusion that disrupted prematurely what this person had to offer this world. This person had more to do. Further, this death was an improper intrusion into the lives of those who knew the person. Some people offer so much in the contribution they make to the lives of others that it makes their death even more painful. 

            Fourth, I invite you to see the value of a small gift or skill and the influence it can have upon the lives of others. 

            Our family took advantage of the move toward buying most of our stuff at the store. My grandmother still occasionally made clothes. It seems as if I recall mom trying as well. I think we believed that the things we made were better than the things bought at a store. In the winter, we might make our own ice cream as well. In any case, those days were gone incredibly early. We went to buying the things we needed at the store. Yet, even today, we can find little shops of handcrafted items. Some people still embrace hobbies that involve a skill they learn. People still love such handcrafted items, enough to pay good money for the product. Of course, people loved that type of skill in New Testament times as well. Tabitha/Dorcas had that type of skill. People valued her for that skill. They valued it so much that they showed Peter what she made for them. 

            This little story makes me think of people I know who love to quilt. Some who read this might appreciate a few little jokes.

Old quilters never die; they just go to pieces.

Old quilters never die; they just go under cover. 

Quilting with a friend will keep you in stitches.

 

Quilting for charity has become a group activity in many communities. Here is a skill that those who practice it do not want the community to lose. 

            Tabitha/Dorcas combined character with a skill. Luke tells us a little story, sandwiched between two big stories. I do not know what your destiny will be. One thing I know. Genuine happiness is for those who have sought and found how to serve that which is beyond them.^[3] Therefore, I am glad for this little story. I assume that there were many such women in the life of the first century church. I assume there were many in the two thousand years since. They lived their lives in faith, hope, and love. They found small acts of service to others as fulfillment of their calling or vocation to witness to Jesus Christ. They used traditional skills in a beautiful way that attracted people to the Christ they served. Luke draws our attention to a small-scale and immediate event. We must never forget that such persons are the heart of the church. We need apostles, evangelists, pastors, and bishops to make important decisions. The church also needs such persons as Tabitha/Dorcas. I count a privilege to know many in the churches I have served. When you meet such persons, please remember, you are meeting the heart of the people of God.^[4]

Fifth, we are all broken in some way, both sinful and sinned against. Because none of us has escaped the results of sin, we suffer spiritual and emotional damage.^[5] The work of recovery is the work of sanctification. God is redeeming those lost parts of our souls that are injured. God is bringing those parts into the light of grace and truth. Yet, too many of us develop a theology in which God does the healing, unaided by anyone or anything. Yet, in the Bible we find a beautiful thing happening. God makes room for us to join in what God wants done in this world. 

Think about the one person who was present at the right moment when you most needed help, whose presence changed your life. Who could have replaced that one? Think about yourself and the kind deeds you have done, known only to God. Who could have replaced you? If someone could describe the unique character of your life, what would the person write? How would others have suffered had your life not intersected with their life? How would such a person write of your life of love and devotion? How would your uniqueness show through? 

            Sixth, I invite you to reflect upon how you would summarize your life. “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”^[6] We will all die. How will people summarize your life? You will have little control over that. How do you want them to summarize your life? Perhaps we have become too complicated. Maybe we need to simplify our lives in many ways. Simplifying in this way can help us focus our lives upon what God is calling us to be and to do. I invite you to reflect prayerfully on the characteristics of your life and then put them into a few sentences. 

            I conclude with a little story from Anne Wells.

My brother-in-law opened the bottom drawer of my sister's bureau and lifted out a tissue-wrapped package. "This," he said, "is not a slip. This is lingerie." He discarded the tissue and handed me the slip. It was exquisite; silk, handmade and trimmed with a cobweb of lace. Still attached was the price tag with an astronomical figure on it. "Jan bought this the first time we went to New York, at least 8 or 9 years ago. She never wore it. She was saving it for a special occasion. Well, I guess this is the occasion." He took the slip from me and put it on the bed with the other clothes we were taking to the mortician. His hands lingered on the soft material for a moment, and then he slammed the drawer shut and turned to me. Do not ever save anything for a special occasion. Every day you're alive is a special occasion." I remembered those words through the funeral and the days that followed when I helped him and my niece attend to all the sad chores that follow an unexpected death. I thought about them on the plane returning to California from the Midwestern town where my sister's family lives. I thought about all the things that she had not seen or heard or done. I thought about the things that she had done without realizing that they were special. I am still thinking about his words, and they have changed my life. I am reading more and dusting less. I am sitting on the deck and admiring the view without fussing about the weeds in the garden. I am spending more time with my family and friends and less time in committee meetings. Whenever possible, life should be a pattern of experience to savor, not endure. I am trying to recognize these moments now and cherish them. I am not "saving" anything; we use our good china and crystal for every special event-such as losing a pound, getting the sink unstopped, and the first camellia blossom. I wear my good blazer to the market if I feel like it. My theory is if I look prosperous, I can shell out $28.49 for one small bag of groceries without wincing. I am not saving my good perfume for special parties; clerks in hardware stores and tellers in banks have noses that function as well as my party-going friends'. "Someday" and "one of these days" are losing their grip on my vocabulary. If it is worth seeing or hearing or doing, I want to see and hear and do it now. I am not sure what my sister would have done had she known that she would not be here for the tomorrow we all take for granted. I think she would have called family members and a few close friends. She might have called a few former friends to apologize and mend fences for past squabbles. I like to think she would have gone out for a Chinese dinner, her favorite food. I am guessing-I will never know. Those little things left undone would make me angry if I knew that my hours were limited. Angry because I put off seeing good friends whom I was going to contact - someday. Angry because I had not written certain letters that I intended to write - one of these days. Angry and sorry that I did not tell my husband and daughter often enough how much I genuinely love them. I am trying extremely hard not to put off, hold back, or save anything that would add laughter and luster to our lives. Moreover, every morning when I open my eyes, I tell myself that it is special. Every day, every minute, every breath truly is...a gift.^[7]

---

^[1] George Eliot

[2] Granted, in some cases, those left behind will be worse off, but life will continue. In Presidential history, the loss of Lincoln mattered greatly, even as Andrew Johnson replaced him.

^[3] Albert Schweitzer.

^[4] Inspired by the comments of N.T. Wright, Acts for Everyone, Part 1: Chapters 1-12 (SPCK, 2008), 154-55.

^[5] We will not let others love us. We cannot say no. We do not know how to connect with people. We are unable to be firm in our convictions. We need help to be disciplined, to accept our weaknesses, to stand against those who would abuse us. The broken, damaged, immature parts of our character need to be fixed.

^[6] Line from Mary Oliver’s poem “The Summer Day.” You can find the poem online.

^[7] A Story To Live By, by Ann Wells (Los Angeles Times).