LAKEWOOD UNITED CHURCH OF CHRIST
2601 54th Avenue South St. Petersburg, FL 33712 on the Gulf of Mexico
On land originally inhabited by the Tocabaga
727-867-7961
Date: May 18, 2025
Scripture Lesson: Acts 9: 36-43
Sermon: Arise!
Pastor: Rev. Kim P. Wells
Just to be clear, like Peter in the story we heard from Acts, I have been in a room alone with a dead body. On numerous occasions, actually. And with a nearly dead body. Yes, it is sacred space. But the last thing I can imagine is praying, “So and so, arise,” and then helping what was the corpse, out of the bed. Many of you have been with dead bodies, too. In your work with hospice. Or in the presence of loved ones. In a hospital or care home, they give you time with your loved one. Some of you worked in the funeral home business and were with many dead bodies. And no one has ever told me that they prayed and the person came back to life.
But there are many ways to die. Many deaths, happening all the time. The death of loss of dignity. The death of loss of rights. The death of loss of freedom. Ask someone in prison. Or someone made poor. There is the death of the loss of certain abilities, mental or physical. There are relationships that essentially die. Some so dead that it is easier to imagine a resuscitated corpse than reconciliation between two living, breathing people, in this life. There are the deaths when we struggle to find a job. And get no reply. To inquiry after inquiry after inquiry after inquiry. The death of the ability to imagine a future. Especially in a place like Gaza. There is the dying of hope, all around us, every day, as people see their food, and medical care, and transportation, and activities, and income, being taken away. Away. Away. There is the death of a common culture. And the death of common values. And the death of commitment to the common good. And one can make a case that we are witnessing the death of democracy in our country. One blow after another.
When you look at the numbers, we could also say that we are witnessing the death of the church. The numbers of believers, let alone those who actually participate in a faith community, are going down, down, down. At least in the US. It is projected that the country with the most Christians in the years to come will be – brace yourself – China. We heard this from a presenter this past week at the Festival of Homiletics in Atlanta, Georgia. China. Oh our dear Chairman Mao must be turning over in his grave.
So, let’s turn to Tabitha. The one in the story we heard today. The name Tabitha, Dorcas, actually means Gazelle. Maybe she was lean and lanky when she was born. We are told that she is a leader of a circle of friends, one of exemplary faith and compassion. Devoted to good works. Helping others. The guild of widows presents a pageant of the tunics and clothes she has made for these otherwise poor, abandoned women. And with two words, “Tabitha, arise,” she is back at it. No conjuring or pleading or elaboration. No arm waving or posturing. No flash and dash. No wand or cape. Just two words. Oh, yes, and the power of God that raised Jesus from the dead. And Tabitha is restored to her community. And Peter stays with a tanner, someone considered unclean according to Jewish law because the tanner does unclean work involving blood. But Peter has been taken over by the love of God revealed to him in Jesus. Love for everyone, no exclusions, no exceptions – despite what religious authorities may say about it.
But God’s power is not limited by our lack of imagination.
So let me tell you about another Tabitha. She was a young girl with a sister. And her family situation was precarious. Her parents weren’t able to properly care for and provide for their children. So, every summer, someone in her church took care of her and her sister for the summer. This woman was a teacher and so she did not have to work over the summer. She was not married. But she knew these girls and their family. And all agreed that the girls were better off with the teacher. So, when she was out of school for the summer, she took care of the girls. One summer. Another summer. And then, by the time Tabitha was in kindergarten, this teacher had adopted the two sisters. They lived with her full time. She was their parent. Their mother. We know about this because Tabitha was a best friend of our son, Sterling, in elementary and middle school. These two girls were essentially rescued from death. They were given a new life. A life with a loving, capable, responsible parent who could see that the girls thrived. This kindergarten teacher, Miss Peaseley, saved these girls from hardship and misery, maybe worse than death. Oh, and Miss Peasley’s first name is Grace. “Oh to grace how great a debtor daily I’m constrained to be,” we sing in the hymn. Grace essentially saved the lives of those two little girls.
So, now we see that in different ways death is all around us. And in this resurrection season, we remember that the power of death, it cannot hold a candle to the power of God, the power of Love, the power of grace, for good. And Peter, oh Peter, who was always trying to set Jesus straight: Remember, Get thee behind me, Satan. Peter, who denied Jesus three times. Peter, feed my lambs. Tend my sheep. Feed my sheep. Oh Peter, he has surrendered. He allows himself to be a conduit, a vessel for the power of God. Tabitha, arise. And she does!
The power is there. Love reigns supreme. It is always looking for a crack, an opening, a circumstance, a person, to let it in. To work. To overcome even death.
Huey Newton was a founder of the Black Panther Party in 1966. The platform of the Panthers was a demand for freedom, land, bread, housing, education, clothes, justice and peace. Basic needs. Newton knew the importance of these basic needs because he grew up in circumstances of deprivation. In the book A More Perfect Party: The Night Shirley Chisholm and Diahann Carroll Reshaped Policies, author Juanita Tolliver tells us about Huey Newton’s childhood: “A Louisiana native and the youngest of seven children, Newton’s struggling family moved to Oakland, California, when he was three years old. The family bounced from apartment to apartment during the next ten years, barely able to keep food on the table. The local public school system failed Newton; he was functionally illiterate while still being passed through each grade of school. In his memoir, Revolutionary Suicide, Newton wrote, ‘Not one instructor ever awoke in me a desire to learn more or question or explore the world of literature, science, and history. All they did was try to rob me of the sense of my own worth, and in the process they nearly killed my urge to inquire.’” [Tolliver, p. 44.]
Yes, death is still all around us. And we are here because we want to surrender. We want to bring life. We want to save those around us. Save ourselves. From languishing. From despair. From being overcome by death which prevents us from seeing the beauty, the joy, and the delight in this life. We hear the invitation. Arise.
We, too, can be bearers of life:
To a dying democracy, we can say, arise.
To a despairing immigrant, we can say, arise.
To a failing student, we can say, arise.
To a grieving friend, we can say, arise.
To an unemployed neighbor, we can say, arise.
To a drug dependent loved one, we can say, arise.
To our deeply wounded, despairing planet, we can say, arise.
To the white supremicist, we can say, arise.
To those addicted to war and violence, we can say, arise.
To the arrogant and ignorant, we can say, arise.
To those obsessed with self-importance, we can say, arise.
To those degraded and defeated and demeaned, we can say, arise!
There are so many deaths around us, and we can embody the power of Divine Love, when we say, arise!
In closing, I invite you to listen to this poem by Lucille Clifton called won’t you celebrate with me:
won’t you celebrate with me
what i have shaped into
a kind of life? i had no model.
born in babylon
both nonwhite and woman
what did i see to be except myself?
i made it up
here on this bridge between
starshine and clay,
my one hand holding tight
my other hand; come celebrate
with me that everyday
something has tried to kill me
and has failed.
Here that once again,
come celebrate
with me that everyday
something has tried to kill me
and has failed.
Death, where is your power? Where is your sting? Friends in Christ, arise!
Amen.
A reasonable effort has been made to appropriately cite materials referenced in this sermon. For additional information, please contact Lakewood United Church of Christ.