Easter 4C

Acts 9.36-43

April 25, 2010

            Christ has died! Christ is risen!  Christ will come again!

            Part of our formal Eucharistic language is a reminder that we live in a tension of now, but not yet.  We are part of the great cloud of witnesses, the disciples of Jesus Christ who exist in that time after he died, rose, and ascended into heaven. 

            Christ has died!  Christ is risen!  Christ will come again!!

            We live in that time when we are confident that Jesus of Nazareth was the Son of God, savior of the world. He was crucified, died and has risen.  And he will come again to judge the living and the dead.  And while we wait, we are called to life in community.  We are called to be disciples who care one for another.  We are called to proclaim this outlandish Gospel to a dark and broken world. 

            We are much like the disciples described in the books of Acts.  And so again this week, I invite you to journey with me into their story in order to better understand our story.

            Last week we left off with Saul, sight restored, finding hospitality at the home of Ananias.  Saul went on to meet the other apostles and after a rocky start, he joined their ministry.  Properly trained and equipped for the work of an apostle, he was sent off to do mission in Tarsus.  Meanwhile the church throughout Judea, Galilee and Samaria was built up.  Living in the fear of the Lord and in the comfort of the Holy Spirit, it increased in numbers. 

            In the midst of the great success, we find Peter, bopping to and fro, meeting and greeting all of the believers.  And in his travels he stops and visits the good folks at Lydda.  Within the community is a man named Aeneas who has been paralyzed, bedridden for eight years.

            Peter looks at Aeneas, invokes the name of Christ and tells the man to get up and make his bed; he won’t, after all, be getting back in until nightfall.  Aeneas gets out of bed and to the sound of much oohing and aahing, Peter moves on to Joppa.

            There he finds a grieving community gathered around the body of the beloved Tabitha, or Dorcas.  Gotta wonder why nobody names their children Dorcas any more, doesn’t it?  Anyhow, Tabitha is a good woman, the only woman in fact in the New Testament to warrant the formal title “disciple.”  It was her task to care for the widows of Joppa.  She made the clothing and saw that their bodily needs were met.  And she had died.  And the widows and even the men of Joppa were gathered around her body, saddened at their loss.

            Peter, assessing the situation, put everybody outside of the room and knelt in prayer.  He turned to the body and ordered her, “Tabitha, get up.”  She opened her eyes, sat up and Peter took her hand and helped her to her feet.  She was taking outside to where the mourners could see that she was alive.  And again there was much oohing and aahing at what Peter had accomplished. 

            Now, if we were to stop at this point we could be very misled regarding these stories.  We could come to believe that if we are good enough, death will not threaten us.  If we are good enough, our life will always be restored.  If we are good enough we can pray and miracles will happen at our beck and call. 

            But that isn’t the point of Luke’s story.  Miracles do not happen because we deserve them.  Miracles happen because of the power of the risen Christ and they come when we least expect them and through the least likely of people.  And they are told as magnificent stories.

            But our dear Luke isn’t just a magnificent story teller.  He doesn’t just give us lovely stories of healing and resurrection and life.  No, he’s always throwing a twist into the story; something to keep us hanging on, to make us struggle and keep us guessing.  Did you catch what it was in this story? Did you get what it was?

            “Meanwhile he stayed in Joppa for some time with a certain Simon, a tanner.”

            Doesn’t really sound so incredible does it?  And yet it’s such a loaded line!  Acts is the story of a community that was formed by and for Jesus the Christ; a community grounded in the people of Israel but that grew to include the Gentiles.  Acts is the story of a journey into inclusion.  And it’s a difficult journey to move from what is known to be right and proper; who is in and who is out, to acceptance and love for those who we have always kept at a distance.

            Peter’s journey through Lydda and Joppa has given us glimpses of good solid communities of faith and how disciples care for one another.  But it’s not just enough to care for those who are like us.  Aeneas was sick, but he was one of the believers.  He was cared for by the other believers.  Tabitha was dead but in her life she had been such a wonderful woman that it seems OK that Peter touches her and prays over her and raises her.  She is a vibrant and important member of the community. 

            But this Simon guy, who gets a mere sentence in the story, he’s a whole different matter.  He deals in the softening and the cleaning of the hides of unclean animals.

            Once a hide was cleaned of hair and what is politely referred to as “foreign matter,” the hide was treated in a special solution.  The odors accompanying this process as well as the tanning of unclean animals such as pigs, was a repugnant process to the community.  Tanners were relegated to living outside of town; reviled, ignored at best, by their neighbors.

             And that is where we find Peter; Peter who has healed a paralyzed man (ooh), who has just raised the dead to new life (aah), who is now in amazing standing within the faith community.  Peter probably had invitation after invitation to stay in homes.  Instead he chooses to stay with Simon, the outcast, the tanner, who quite frankly, stinks.

            Oh to be sure, what Simon does is invaluable to the citizens of Joppa.  He provides water skins, butter churns, leather buckets and wineskins for public use.  He too provides for the needs of the community, but he would not have been welcome in the community. 

            That is such a disturbing reference to one who is probably a believer, a disciple; one with whom Peter did choose to stay. 

            Simon the tanner.  Hmmm.  We all know a Simon the tanner.  Simon is that person who provides a needed service and yet we never give him or her a second look.  You know who Simon is. Simon is the person who pushes the mop bucket and smells a little like disinfectant so that surgeons can perform miraculous feats of healing.  Simon is the person who sets and clears the table and schleps the dishes so that your perfectly prepared restaurant meal has a pleasant presentation.  Simon is the woman who comes in late at night while her children are sleeping to stock grocery shelves so that when you walk into the story, you can immediately find what you need.  Simon is the kid dressed all in black, never meant to be seen, who changes the stage between acts so that the leading man and lady shine in their roles on stage.  Simon is the person who comes to worship but who perhaps dresses a bit shabby; doesn’t look quite like us and so is welcome to worship but not really to be part of the community.  Simon is the woman who comes to church with her female partner, welcome to sit in a pew, but not sure we want to advertise that we welcome her.  Simon is the man who hears voices and comes in the door looking for a handout; we’ll give him gas money but we’d rather he moved on. 

            We need Simon.  Not for what Simon does, but for who Simon is.  When Peter stayed at Simon’s house, he is the last person Peter encountered before he continued on to the greatest story of the book of Acts: the Conversion of Cornelius and the start of the mission to the Gentiles.  Who knows what Simon and Peter talked about over those days; who knows what Peter learned from his new friend; who knows what glimpses of the Kingdom of God was put forth by this tanner.  But it was life changing for Peter.  Simon, the outcast was important in the journey of Peter.  And it was God who placed together the miracle worker and the smelly tanner.

            I pray that as we make space to welcome people in our worship, in our study, in our fellowship; I pray that as we struggle with following Christ and awaiting his return, as we live in this between time as disciples, that we do not relegate Simon to the outskirts of town.  For we never know what Simon might have to teach us.  Amen