Sermons from Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] May 8, 2022 “A Single Garment of Destiny” Acts 9: 36-43 36Now 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. 37At that time she became ill and died. When they had washed her, they laid her in a room upstairs. 38Since 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.” 39So 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. 40Peter 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. 41He gave her his hand and helped her up. Then calling the saints and widows, he showed her to be alive. 42This became known throughout Joppa, and many believed in the Lord. 43Meanwhile he stayed in Joppa for some time with a certain Simon, a tanner. The season of graduations and commencement speeches has begun. In 1965, Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was invited to give the commencement address for Oberlin College.[1] If you didn’t know, Oberlin was founded by Congregationalists in 1830 upon “the radical notion that slavery was America's most horrendous sin and that it should be instantly repented of and immediately brought to an end.” The founders sought to raise up Christian men and women who would change the world. It was, in fact, the first college in the United States to enroll both men and women and one of the first to enroll African Americans. During 1960s, Oberlin had sent a lot of students to participate in the civil rights movement, so it would not have been unusual to think that Dr. King would be a commencement speaker. In his speech, he reminded graduates of the old story of Rip Van Winkle by Washington Irving. If you don’t remember, Rip went up the side of a mountain and laid down for a nap and woke up 20 years later – obviously confused why his musket was rusty and his beard a foot long. When he went to sleep, a sign on the little inn in town had a picture of King George III of England. When he came down the mountain, the sign had a picture of George Washington, the first president of the United States. Rip didn’t know he had slept through the American Revolution. Dr. King told the graduating class, there’s “nothing more tragic than to sleep through a revolution. The great challenge facing you today,” he said, “is to remain awake through this social revolution.” Remain committed, remain engaged to the promise of equality. It was a hopeful time. School desegregation, the 1964 Civil Rights Act. The Voting Rights Act would become law two months later. It was a time of great optimism for some, of increasing rights and freedoms, while for others it represented a terrible horror, the perceived loss of privilege. A counter revolution was begun, and, unless we’ve been asleep, we have been watching the slow but quickening pace reversing those same individual rights, responsibilities, and freedoms. Dr. King made an urgent plea to them and to all of us. Please remember: “All humankind is tied together; all life is interrelated, and we are all caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny.” We are tied in a single garment of destiny. I love that image and it came to mind because of Tabitha. She lived it. Her life’s dedication to good works and acts of charity was to literally sew garments for the poor; for widows, orphans and anyone in need. She saw their needs tied to her own. We don’t know if she was a widow herself. We don’t know if she was poor or wealthy. Some have speculated that she was obviously a woman of means to afford all of her work. We don’t know that. All we know is that she is the only woman in the Bible explicitly given the name “disciple,” on remarkably equal footing as men. Dr. Wilda Gaffney points out that of women in the Bible, “Tabitha stands out neither as a wife nor widow nor mother. She stands alone, named a disciple of Jesus Christ without regard to patriarchy and patrimony.”[2] In addition to disciple, Tabitha has two more names. Her Hebrew name, which means gazelle, and her Greek name, Dorcas, since they were Jews living away from Jerusalem. Like Paul and Saul last week. Just think about it. She was of such importance in the church that not only would someone think to go summon Peter to come, but that Peter would drop everything else to come upon hearing of her death. To do what, exactly? She’s not dying. Luke makes it clear she got sick and died unexpectedly. Her body has already been washed and laid in an upstairs room. Mourners filled the room, those directly clothed by her compassion. They were not professional mourners brought in, as was sometimes the case, but actual people whose lives were woven into hers. When Peter arrived, he had the mourners leave the room. He knelt down and prayed and turned to the body and said, “Tabitha, get up.” She opened her eyes, saw Peter, and sat up. He helped her get out of bed and called everyone back into the room to show that she was alive. It’s very natural to think, “well then, she wasn’t really dead. She was in a coma” or something like that. But what happened isn’t as important as why. Past the details, why was this story told? But first, here’s another question. Who is this story about? Sure, Tabitha is named, but most people point to Peter. Look at what Peter did. Good job Peter! But is Tabitha just a passive object of Peter’s actions? On the one hand, you could say that – just like Jesus – Peter raised Tabitha. But wait, Tabitha was the one raised, just like Jesus. Dr. Febby Dickerson is a womanist biblical scholar and she says, “It is Tabitha, not Peter, who functions like Jesus; she ‘sacrificed for others, died, and was raised.’”[3] Tabitha was raised. Dickerson rescues Tabitha from conventional, stereotypical readings of her as the helpless poor widow whose presence elevates Peter. I love it when someone points out the obvious. Our years of patriarchal training have taught us to think Peter is the hero of the story. Yes, but… And maybe that wasn’t Luke’s intention, but he has already lifted Tabitha above the prevailing patriarchal understanding of discipleship not defined by gender.[4] Tabitha is, of course, just one story in a larger narrative about Peter. But, then again, Peter is just one story in a larger narrative about Jesus. And the narrative of the early Christian Church. And the story of us – all the way to you and me. Because we are all tied together in a single garment of destiny. “All humankind tied together; all life interrelated, all caught in an inescapable network of mutuality.” It seems to me that Dr. King told those Oberlin graduates the meaning of Tabitha’s life: I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be. And you can never be what you ought to be until I am what I ought to be – this [is the] interrelated structure of reality.” And yet, I’m afraid some of us will take the news of past week as a single, isolated issue that has nothing to do with us. How will this affect me? Just like Dr. King said in his commencement speech, “Let nobody give you the impression that the problem of racial injustice will work itself out. Let nobody give you the impression that only time will solve the problem. That is a myth, and it is a myth because time is neutral. Time can be used either constructively or destructively.” He lamented that the people who were against his equal rights have used their time much more effectively. Remember: “human progress never rolls in on the wheels of inevitability. It comes through the tireless efforts and the persistent work of dedicated individuals.” But never as isolated individuals. That’s why it is so important to belong to communities like this for nurture and support. Plus, we want to share these values with the coming generations. We can’t do this alone or forever. The same with Tabitha too. I asked earlier, why was Tabitha’s story told? The miracle was not merely the restoration of one individual, no matter how important she was. Her resurrection was for her community. And her restoration was not a reward for her good deeds. It kept the community’s post-Easter hopes alive.[5] As I said on Easter morning, resurrection wasn’t “accomplished” on what we call Easter. Resurrection was begun. Resurrection was unleashed. Which means, regardless how dark the coming days, hope is never left for dead. The pulse may have been checked, the body washed, the mourners called, but never leave the cause of equal rights, responsibilities, and freedoms for dead. Regardless of our positions on various issues, there are some things we hold in common. If we are all part of a single garment of destiny, then we seek a mutuality of all genders, not a world ruled by only one gender. If we are all part of a single garment of destiny, then we seek to define such things as ethics and morality together as Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, and people who have no religious affiliation as equal partners, not a nation which gives preference to Christians. If we are all part of a single garment of destiny, then we seek a world where the supremacy is of love – love for every color, language, race, immigration status, national origin and more. Love supremacy, not white. If we are all part of a single garment of destiny, then we seek a world which does not define heterosexuality as normal but which normalizes respect and self-determination and the freedom to define one’s own family. And fairness for people of all abilities. If we are all part of a single garment of destiny, then we seek to ensure that whenever life begins, that life is ultimately fed, clothed, educated, cared for when it’s sick, and loved unconditionally until their last breath. And ensure that women are not wombs but humans with equal rights, responsibilities, and freedoms, with whom we all share a single garment of destiny. And then, we will be able to “transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brother and sisterhood, and speed up the day when, in the words of the prophet Amos, ‘Justice will roll down like waters; and righteousness like a mighty stream.’”[6] [1] Remaining Awake Through a Great Revolution – all Dr. King quotes in this sermon are from this speech [2] Wilda Gafney, A Women’s Lectionary for the Whole Church, Year W, page 64 [3] Febby C. Dickerson, “The Many Faces of Tabitha: A Womanist Reading” [4] Gary Charles, Connections, Year C, Volume 2, page 233 [5] Concept by Marianne Blickenstaff in Connections, Year C Volume 2, page 236 [6] Dr. King
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