Readings: Acts 9:36-43 John 10:22-30
We pray - may the
words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your
sight, O God, our rock and our sustainer.
Amen.
On Thursday
morning I was on a road trip to Gore with two other parish ministers. In what passes for light conversation, we
were discussing the often intriguing, sometimes tenuous links that we find in
scripture when following the set lectionary readings for each Sunday. Mulling over the links between the raising
of the disciple Dorcas from death and the story of the Good Shepherd from the
Gospel of John, I happened to mention that it was also Mothers day – yes
me! And as I told them that I planned to
show the mosaic of the Good Shepherd I’d made to the children today, I suddenly
made the connection that I had done this for my mother - to comfort and
encourage her – for it was in the well known and comforting stories of the
bible that she found her peace in her old age.
And suddenly all the threads came together, loosely I might say, to
create a picture where shepherds and sheep and women and belonging all came
into focus.
But first – who was
Dorcas or Tabitha as she was also known in the Aramaic. Dorcas was a Greek name meaning ‘gazelle’. That is rather beautiful. Did you know that there is a gazelle called
the Dorcas gazelle – common in Africa and Arabia?
We know that she
was a disciple of Jesus, that she did good and charitable works.
She may have been
a widow herself – and we assume one of some means with her generous help for
others in need.
She was important
to her community and of some standing in the body of faith, suggested by the
fact that when she died they were distraught – and that they immediately sent
for Peter.
What did they hope
for – maybe solace for themselves, maybe recognition that in the small
community of Christ followers this death was a significant moment of loss? Or did they hope for resurrection? When Peter arrives and is shown up to the
room where her body lies it seems not – for the women there were in full
mourning – showing Peter all that she had been to them.
Yet Peter acted
swiftly and decisively – and privately – to bring her back to life - it seemed
that the acts of resurrection were not at an end with Jesus death, and that the
community of Joppa would have been significantly affected by the return of this
saint into their midst.
Today she along
with Lydia and Phoebe are remembered with feast days in a number of denominations,
and there is still a Dorcas society which provides clothing for the poor.
So Dorcas/Tabitha,
significant in her day, and continuing to be a light for the church and the
world today.
And one wonders
how absolutely significant Jesus was for the women of his time. A man who seemingly ignored the cultural hierarchy
of gender in recognising and valuing discipleship, who inspired not just women
but the spat-upon tax collectors and people crippled by disease both mentally
and physically and the foreign soldiers – who inspired all of these who were
the least to find their hope and peace in the safe hand of a loving God, in the
love and companionship of the risen Christ.
For Dorcas, for
Lydia, (remember she was the seller of purple named as a disciple in Acts), and
Phoebe (a deacon in Corinth mentioned in Romans), the image of Jesus as the
good shepherd would have been, one imagines, quite reassuring both as disciples
and as women. To have someone understand
and love you, not for what you do or say or what society says you are but for
yourself – loved, held, valued as a child of God.
I think that is
what my Mum found in the story of the Good Shepherd, a sense of being held in
elemental peace. I think even today this imagery helps us understand the
eternal love that binds us no matter who we are or what we do or say. I think that was what I was doing when I made
that particular mosaic, less than perfect as it is – I was expressing my love
for my mother who was in need but I was also sharing with her my belief that Jesus
is our rock, our sanctuary when all else around us is fragile.
I think that is
what was happening here this past Thursday afternoon at a group of people at
fellowship sat around the table and shared their thoughts on comfort food – they
were sharing their stories, their vulnerabilities and caring for each other in a
place of belonging, of trust.
I think this was
what we were also doing as so many of you rallied together for the fair – I hope
that in the midst of the exhaustion and chaos, there were times when delight in
being part of this community shone through, when it felt good to belong, right
to be doing this in Jesus’ name and for his church in Opoho. I know that this flock on the hill shone a
light yesterday that illuminated us both within and out into the world.
I have spoken to
so many people who in different and often halting words have express that sense
of anchorage, safeness, being loved by God especially when all else has gone
down the plughole. Who have clung to
Jesus’ promise that his flock is forever held and nothing can change that.
And for the times
when our lives are less traumatic the anchorage, safety, being loved by God unconditionally
and eternally gives us the strength and courage to share this story of
belonging to the world. In our words and
our actions we value others in the way we are valued, we love and care for and
demand the right to justice for others that we are shown by Christ so that the
whole world might know the belonging that comes from being loved.
Today as we think
of the women who in Jesus time knew that complete acceptance and fulfilment in
Christ, as we remember the women in our lives and our history who have inspired
and challenged us to be the best we can be, as we, men and women, value
ourselves each one of us both in our celebrations and in our vulnerabilities
and failures – may we hold the truth of a risen Christ, a loving shepherd who
will allow no-one and nothing to remove us from his fold, who values all people
diverse as we are, and may we know the peace of belonging and the conviction of
the living faith in in our lives now, and forever. Amen.
Margaret Garland
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