Ask me how I’m doing.  Wouldn’t it be something for us to be able to respond to the question “How are you doing?” with something like this:  “I am running but not growing weary.  I continue to walk and not grow faint.”  I wouldn’t say this based on my own physical strength or strength of will or determination or any other way in which I might look to myself for help  I would like to be able to say “I am running but not growing weary.  I continue to walk and not grow faint” because I belong to Jesus, and in Jesus my life belongs to God.  My life’s been interrupted. We talked about this last week in the story of Saul.  A life interrupted in the best possible way.  God calling Saul’s name.  God calling our name.  The good and right and fitting response on our part is to call on God’s name right back – “Here I am Lord!”  or “Here am I, the servant of the Lord, let it be with me according to your will.”

Life interrupted in order that I may be an interruption – that we may be an interruption to the usual order of things.  In the middle of all the challenges we face in our personal lives, that we may know capital L life as in the way the truth and the life.  In the middle of the state of the world and all the fragmentation and enmity and uncertainty and suspicion, we are not called to despair, resignation, or indifference.   We’re called and enabled in the Spirit of Christ to interrupt.  To disrupt.  To make a difference.  To stand even in the face of death, like those friends of Tabitha, and say, “Look at what she made.”  Look at these clothes that she made for us.  “Look at how she helped us,” cried those widows.  Widows need help.  Tabitha was devoted to good works and acts of charity – acts of mercy and justice which are made tangible in the clothes that she made that were worn by the widows who are grieving her loss.  It’s a sad scene. 

Of course, the sadness is not the end of the story.  Let me interrupt this whole proceeding with a question about the end of the story at this point.  Do you believe that acts of mercy and justice that are enabled in Christ’s followers can carry a significance that goes beyond our death?  Do you believe acts of mercy and justice and kindness and compassion may be of eternal significance in the kingdom of heaven? I want to tell you something about one of our Blythwood saints, who went to be with the Lord on December 29^th 2016.  In the kingdom of heaven, it’s not just about the Peters and the Pauls.  It’s also about the Ananiases.  The Tabithas.  The Gord Borrons.  Gord was not to be out front or make a big deal about what he was called to do in God’s service.  He was a woodworker.  He used this gift in teaching the children here at Blythwood for years.  At his funeral, I showed those gathering one of the things Gord had made.  Candle holders that the choir would use on Christmas Eve at our candlelight service.  It had meaning for us that day at Gord’s funeral.  It has meaning for me as I keep it on my desk.  I don’t know where it will end up one day.  On someone else’s desk or shelf.  In a landfill.  Is it possible that such an act of kindness may have meaning that goes beyond wherever this candle holder ends up?  (Hint – 100%)

In these two encounters, Peter/Aeneas and Peter/Tabitha, the story of the spread of the good news of Jesus is brought down to the personal.  The face-to-face.  The coming alongside of.  We’re talking through this long look at Acts about the work that Jesus began – about the work that Christ’s church is called and enabled in the power of the Holy Spirit to continue.  For Jesus, it was often about the face-to-face.  The woman of Samaria at the well.  Nicodemus coming to talk to Jesus under cover of darkness.  It was the same for the apostles.  We’ve heard about Peter and John and the man at a gate called Beautiful.  We’ve heard about Phillip encountering the Minister of Finance/Treasury Secretary from Ethiopia on a wilderness road in the middle of the day, and, of all things, he was reading from Isaiah.  Who would have thought?” we asked.

These two stories have a function in the wider story of Acts.  They set Peter up geographically on the Mediterranean coast.  Lydda and Joppa.  Next week, we’ll hear about Peter heading north from Jaffa to Caesarea to meet Cornelius.  Peter is going into increasingly Hellenized or Greekified territory.  We are approaching a momentous moment (!) in the Book of Acts, as the good news is about to be poured out for Gentiles in a whole new way.  We are in between two very big events.  The conversion of Saul!  The road to Damascus.  The “I saw the light” moment for Saul.  We’ll be spending a lot of time with him over the coming weeks and months.  Peter meeting a Roman centurion.  Cornelius.  A leader in the Italian regiment.  We’ll get to that story, too.  The big turn of the good news to the Gentile world.  Huge! 

Peter and Paul are major figures, of course, in the history of the church.  Wide influence.  In the kingdom of God, there’s nothing inherently wrong with the wide influence, of course.  Some are called to ministries that have city—wide/province-wide/national/international reach.  At the same time, we remember people like Ananias whose call was to go and meet Saul face to face.  We remember Barnabas, who sold that field and gave all the proceeds to the apostles, who comes back into the story in chapter 9 to vouch for Saul in Jerusalem.  In the middle of momentous events, Luke reminds us who are in Christ, that we are individuals that are called to come alongside and serve individuals. 

Peter is called here to a man who is helpless, bedridden for eight years, paralyzed.  Peter is called to a room upstairs from which life is gone.  Where are we called and what does it look like?

“Now, as Peter went here and there among all the believers, he came down also to the saints living in Lydda.  There he found a man named Aeneas, who had been bedridden for eight years and was paralyzed.”  We don’t know what Aeneas’ faith position was, and you can speculate on that if you’re the type to speculate on such things.  Here is the thing that is beyond speculation, though.  This man was in the grip of a situation from which he was unable to extricate himself.  Peter came alongside his situation.  This is what Jesus did writ large when we’re talking humanity, and this is what Jesus did writ small when we consider his encounters with individuals.  This is the work that Peter proclaims.  Jesus Christ heals you.  This is the truth that Christ’s church – and by Christ’s church I mean us – is enabled by the Spirit and called by Christ to proclaim.  In Jesus, there is fullness of life.  Jesus makes whole.   Jesus heals you.  This is Peter’s message.  Get up and make your bed (and this phrase “make your bed” may also mean “prepare a table”).  You have something to do.  Time to get up and make your bed!  A literal “Get up” here as Aeneas is cured miraculously.  A cure doesn’t always come, as we know, and the getting up may be more metaphorical.  Get up and live out life in Jesus in our words and acts!  The result is all of the residents of Lydda and Sharon (the coastal plain on which these events are happening) saw him and turned to the Lord.  This was big, and people were turning to God because of it.  One commentator puts it like this – “Where there was helplessness, caughtness, and bondage, the word, the name, has created fresh possibility.”

Which was what was needed in nearby Joppa.  Major port town at one time.  The place Jonah sailed from.  Jaffa today.  Famous for its oranges.  Beautiful town on the Mediterranean.  Home of Tabitha.  Dorcas in Greek.  Gazelle.  She was a disciple.  The only use of the female form for disciple in the NT.  No question at all as to her faith position.  A disciple of Christ.  A student of Christ.  An imitator of Christ.  She was devoted to good works and acts of charity.  Devoted to good works and acts of charity.  The Greek word here that’s been translated charity in our Bibles means mercy.  Acts of mercy.  This is what Tabitha did.  She came alongside in need.  We don’t know if Tabitha was a widow herself – again, it’s a matter of speculation.  It’s plausible given her heart for widows.  Her heart is for those who have experienced the most stressful event that life has to offer.  In 1967, two psychiatrists named Thomas Holmes and Richard Rahe put together a list of life events that are most stressful.  It’s called the Holmes and Rahe stress scale.  They wanted to study the causes of disease.  Things on the list include incarceration, death of a family member, marriage (!), getting fired, and retiring.  Counting down the top three, they had 3) marital separation, 2) divorce, and 1) death of a spouse.  Number one.

We talk a lot about widows and orphans in the Bible, how widows often faced a lack of support.  They also faced the most stressful situation that people can face.  Into the middle of this came Tabitha.  Whether or not she was a widow herself, the social order was being upended.  We’re not told if these widows took part in this clothing ministry themselves, but there’s no reason to believe that it wasn’t happening. 

Led by Tabitha, who has died.  “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.”   This is what we do when we are grieving.  We remember.  We cling to objects that remind us of the one who has been lost.  Look at this tunic that she made for me!  Look at this scarf that she made.  For the widows, it’s not just a matter of grieving the death of their friend, but the uncertain future that they now face.

God steps into the situation.  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.  He gave her his hand and helped her up.

Because we need help.  We’re not expected to do this life on our own.  We shouldn’t expect others to do it on their own either.  Take my hand.

One who was dead is brought back to life.  This is not an everyday occurrence, to state the obvious.  Here is the message, though.  Death does not have the last word.  In the Kingdom of God, death does not have the last word.  In Jesus ' death, death has been defeated and will one day be defeated, and until that time, the community of Christ’s disciples is to be a community that is characterized by compassion and care.  In a culture that is so often dismissive and uncarin,g we stand for something else.  Widows are not to be left to make it on their own; neither is the stranger, the migrant, the one without clothing, the one without a home, the prisoner.  Christ is risen, He is risen indeed, and to follow Christ is to live in the power of the Holy Spirit.

We know about power, right?  It’s easy to see the difference between the powerful and the powerless.  It’s easy to see economic power, military power, power founded in violence, oppression and destruction.  There’s another power, though, which is truly power.  The power of God.  The power of mercy, of justice, of grace, of self-giving love.  It’s just a tunic, we might say.  It’s just a candle-holder.  Maybe our acts of mercy are less tangible.  Maybe they involve food.  Maybe they involve words of comfort and encouragement.  Might such acts of mercy have significance beyond death and into eternity?  100%.   Look at these verse from Revelation 21, which speaks of that day for which all the earth awaits:  “And the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God is its light, and its lamp is the Lamb.  The nations will walk by its light, and the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it.  Its gates will never be shut by day, and there will be no night there.  People will bring into it the glory and the honour of the nations.” Rev 21:23-26  The nations will bring into it glory and honour.  What is glory in the kingdom of God but making God’s ways known?  The way in which mercy was made known somehow having a significance that goes to Kingdom come.

How many of these acts and words of mercy have I seen through my years at Blythwood?  Countless meals prepared for those sorely in need of a meal.  Baby blankets are being made.  Toques being knitted for those in need.  Words of encouragement and comfort, and the truth of Christ in us, the hope of glory.  Christmas care packages.  Cards.  Phone calls.  Visits. Candle holders.  Every day, people are doing justly and loving mercy and walking humbly with our God. 

May we all be ones who rise – ones who are raised – to good works and acts of mercy.  I’m thankful for such stories and the story we’ve just read.  Same church.  Same Holy Spirit in us.  Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift.   Amen