Tabitha

Acts 9:36-43

 

        Every church has saints. Ask Jim Martin or Nancy Small and they will tell you stories about folks who dedicated their lives to keep these doors open. Most saints are ordinary folks who find ways of accomplishing the extraordinary. Often saints are never noticed until they are gone. In my last church, Grady Broadwell was one of our saints. Grady probably stood 4’6” in high heels, but we will never know. I never saw Grady in high heels. Truth is I seldom saw Grady’s face. I was always trying to catch her from behind.

        Grady had a background in nursing. Once she retired from teaching at a local college, she decided the older folks at Graves Memorial were now her patients. Graves had a membership of over 450 and it seemed the majority of them were older than me. Our communion list could be demanding. It was not unusual to serve ten folks. But Grady never seemed to tire. The widows of the church, many of them younger than Grady, saw her regularly. She called it her calling. I called it a ministry of love.  One day Grady dropped by my office to tell me she and her husband were planning to move to a retirement home in Asheville. I said to her, “Grady you have to be old to go to a retirement home.” She replied, “I remember when Babe Ruth retired. Now it’s my turn.”  As she turned to leave I realized the church would be devastated. Taking care of the elderly was just one part of her ministry to our congregation. Every member wondered how we would survive the loss of Grady.

        The church at Joppa had a Grady, only she went by the name Tabitha.  She had to be an incredible woman simply because we know her name. Think for a moment. How many widows in the Bible do we know by name? Let’s see, there were Naomi and Ruth. Then there was the widow in the Elijah story, but I can’t remember her name.   There was the widow whose generosity Jesus mentioned and then there was Naomi and Ruth. Oh yeah, I have already mentioned them. There are plenty of widows in the Bible but we never learn their names because widows stayed in the shadows, trying to make it from day to day.

        Yet the writer of Luke lifts up the name of Tabitha. What do we know about her? Nothing, except when she died, the church panicked. Tabitha took care of the widows and probably everyone else. I imagined when she died a session meeting was called to figure out how the church would survive. The answer was, they could not. Instead of mourning her death, the church decided to reverse her death. They called Peter and asked if he could come and resurrect the one that was so critical to their ministry.

        Peter came, and amazingly Tabitha was resurrected. The church was both astounded and relieved. The crisis was averted and the power of God celebrated. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if whenever a saint dies or even leaves, Peter would show up and restore everything just like it had always been? But that’s not the way life works. Sometimes we have to find our own way.

        Not long after Grady and her husband packed up and headed for Asheville, a woman named Bonnie came to my office. “I can’t be Grady Broadwell, but maybe I could join you each month for communion.”  Soon more folks showed up at my door and eventually all the ministries that Grady performed were resurrected as one by one people stepped forward, and stepped up. It might have taken 7 folks to replace Grady, but the ministries continued. That’s what the church does, even in the midst of our tears.

        I was in Philadelphia this week when Tom Powell called and told me Barbara had fallen during the night.  He correctly feared she had only hours to live. We have watched Barbara courageously battle cancer for the past couple of years. It seemed with Barbara it was always one step forward and three steps back, yet each step forward was a giant leap. Barbara made it to church or the golf course with such regularity it was sometimes hard to remember how sick she was. She joked about her new weight loss program. She raved about the casseroles fixed for Tom as if they had been prepared by some chef from Paris. When I would inquire about her health she would often reply, “I’m dying, just like everyone else.” She never failed to ask about Anne, or Ralph, or Iantha or Frankie. That is what saints do. They care for others, they teach us how to live, and they show how to die.

        Anne died early Saturday morning. She battled for six courageous years with a form of cancer for which there is no cure. Living with death can taint one’s vision. Anne’s spiritual eyesight was 20/20. Beside her reading chair  are two worn books held together by Duck tape. One is her Bible. The other is A Diary of Private Prayer by John Baillie. It is a book of daily devotions that search deep into the inner life of the reader. The first entry– “Keep me chaste in thought. Keep me temperate and truthful in speech. Keep me faithful and diligent in my work. Keep me humble in my estimation of myself. Keep me generous in my dealings with others. Keep me loyal to every hallowed memory of the past and mindful of my eternal destiny as a child of God.”  

        The last entry – “To thy care I commend my soul and the souls of all whom I love and who love me.”

        When Barbara and Anne died, St. Peter didn’t come, but God did. We often quote, “The Lord givith, the Lord takest away, Blessed be the Lord.” What we need to remember is the Lord will give again. Barbara and Anne have left us memories, but they have also left a void. Who will step forward and joyfully laugh at death as Barbara did? Who will step forward to remind us of the beauty of the Psalms and the prayers of our saints as Anne did? Will you allow God to make you more than you ever imagined you might be?

        I truly believe,

A new song will arise from one of you;

A new energy will arise from one of you;

A new joy will arise from one of you;

A new dignity will arise from one of you;

A new prayer will arise from one of you;

How do I know this?

Because this is the way we celebrate our saints,

And this is the way we celebrate our faith.

 

To God be the glory, Amen.