Text: Acts 9:36-43

Looking back to Peter’s place in our readings of the past few weeks, it struck me that I might have done a series of sermons on the perils of Peter. Today’s ancient text tells a tale that would come toward the end of that series as we see Peter, transformed by the events and encounters he has had in the Jesus’ Movement. In this story, he speaks with authority and acts with power, but we know this has not always been the case.

The gospels contain several stories of Peter’s rocky road to faith, of his proud protestations, his impetuous behavior, his abject failures. Many have found it easy to identify with Peter’s perilous progress in our own faith journeys. It is his brother Andrew who first introduces Simon, son of John, to Jesus. Andrew, a follower of John the Baptist, has had his own encounter with Jesus and comes excitedly to tell his brother that they have found the Messiah. Along with Andrew and the other fishermen, James and John, sons of Zebedee, Simon leaves his boat and nets and livelihood to follow the charismatic Galilean rabbi.

Peter is often characterized as a large, imposing figure, sort of like Little John among Robin Hood’s merry band. He seems to show some signs of leadership potentiality from the start, for early on Jesus changes his name from Simon to Peter, which means “rock”. It is on Peter’s profession of faith and proclamation that Jesus is the Messiah, God’s promised redeemer, that Jesus says, “On this rock, I will build the church, the community of God’s faithful followers.” Whether it is Peter himself or Peter’s faith to which Jesus refers, Peter is clearly engaged at the center of Jesus’ vision for the future of his movement.

It is Peter who bravely and foolishly attempts to join Jesus walking on the water of the lake in the middle of the storm. This is such a compelling image of Peter’s faith and failure. As he recognizes Jesus coming toward them on the storm tossed sea, he impulsively gets out of the boat and moves to meet the master. This must have been one of those ecstatic moments when Peter acted in complete faith without considering the consequences. Unfortunately, it did not take long for Peter to realize that he was doing something he could not do. Walking on top of the water is impossible on the calmest of days, let alone on the whipping whitecaps of a stormy sea. Of course, he began to go under. What else could he do, until Jesus reached out his hand in reassuring rescue?

Then we have the familiar scene as Jesus begins to prepare the disciples for his coming death. It is Peter who pulls him aside, thinking that he knows better and begins to rebuke Jesus for talking such nonsense. It is Peter, who believes that he knows the course the Messiah must take to redeem God’s people. And it is Peter who feels the sting of Jesus’ hard words, “Get behind me, Satan, you old tester! For you, Peter, are setting your sights on human things, not on what God has planned.” It is not difficult to imagine the pain Peter felt in hearing these words.

At the Last Supper, it is Peter’s voice we hear telling Jesus, as he washes the disciples’ feet, that Jesus will not wash his feet. Once again Peter fails to grasp the depth of meaning in Jesus’ teaching and ministry. And who can blame him? These are tough lessons for one to learn; God’s way is not as easily grasped as one caught up in conventional wisdom might think. “You do not know what I am doing, Peter, but later you will understand.” “You will never wash my feet.” And once again the hard word for the hard headed disciple, “Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.” And once again, the impulsive overstatement, “…not only my feet but my hands and head!” He does so desire to do right and win Jesus’ favor.

At that same table on that same night, it is Peter who swears he will follow Jesus to the death, if necessary. Bold words, followed by Jesus’ prediction that that very night Peter will deny him three times. Peter is among those found sleeping in the garden, unable to watch with Jesus in his hour of agony, and Peter who draws a sword and cuts off the ear of the servant of the high priest when they come to arrest Jesus in that same garden. It is Peter asleep when Jesus needs him, rising to foolish and unwanted action when it is too late.

Every gospel carries the account of the nadir of Peter’s path, the deep valley of his humiliation, as his bravado disappears and he denies Jesus three times. After Jesus’ arrest, following at a safe distance, we find him lurking in the high priest’s courtyard, waiting to hear the verdict. “‘You also were with Jesus, the man from Nazareth.’ But he denied it, saying, ‘I do not know or understand what you are talking about.’” It is amazing to hear those words slip so easily from his lips, in the dark of night when he is shivering with cold and fear. “‘This man is one of them,’” the serving girl says, but again he denies it. “‘Certainly you are one of them; for you are a Galilean.’ But he began to curse, and swore an oath, ‘I do not know this man you are talking about.’” Is it so hard to imagine the agony he must have felt when he realized that, once again, Jesus was right; he had indeed denied his Lord and King, his beloved Messiah, the one whom he had left all to follow? He had hit a real bottom this time.

Last week we looked at that lovely story of personal reconciliation when Jesus looks deep into Peter’s heart, neither condemning or chiding him for his failures and asks him to live up to the high potentiality Jesus had seen him when he named him “rock.” “Have you learned your lesson, Peter? Do you love me enough to step up, to take responsibility for my people, to feed my sheep and tend my lambs?” The progress up from the pit of embarrassment and despair is steady. “You know I love you – and in ways I never imagined possible before. I have a better understanding of who you are and what you want me to do. Oh, Lord, I want another chance.”

In a few weeks we will celebrate Pentecost, that memorable day when the Holy Spirit came with power on the disciples. It is our old friend, Peter, the impulsive bumbler and bragging coward, who stands up in the midst of a large crowd and proclaims the good news of Jesus Christ. It is Peter, who had been found following far behind Jesus in the dark, who had denied even knowing him, who had stayed hidden with the others in a locked house for days, who now boldly preaches to the crowd, the Spirit moving through him in such a way that 3000 join the movement that day.

The Acts of the Apostles goes on to tell of his continuing to speak God’s word to the delight of the people and consternation of the religious authorities. How had such a one been so transformed? It had to be through a combination of his own difficult journey and the power of God’s spirit to change his life. In the early chapters of Acts, he claims the leadership of the Jesus’ Movement in Jerusalem, the leadership Jesus predicted for him. Not only do we find him preaching and teaching in the mode of his master, we find him engaged in similar acts of healing. Acts 3 tells the tale of Peter and John healing the lame beggar at the Beautiful Gate of the Temple, followed by their arrest and imprisonment by the religious authorities for stirring up the people. When called before those same leaders to account for themselves, they acquit themselves so well the authorities are astounded. “…when they saw the boldness of Peter and John and realized that they were uneducated and ordinary men, they were amazed and recognized them as companions of Jesus…they…ordered them not to speak or teach at all in the name of Jesus. But Peter and John answered them, ‘Whether it is right in God’s sight to listen to you rather than God, you must judge; for we cannot keep from speaking about what we have seen and heard.’”

This time the authorities let them go because they are afraid of their popularity with the crowds, much as they were with Jesus. It is not long before the apostles are arrested and imprisoned again, however. After they are freed, the good news continues to spread among the people as does the persecution of Jesus’ followers, culminating in the stoning of the Stephen. After this we find the Apostles and other followers spreading out through the countryside, escaping persecution and carrying the good news beyond Jerusalem.

Verse 32 of chapter 9 tells us that “…as Peter went here and there among all the believers he came down also to the saints living at Lydda.” It is here in Lydda that he encounters a man named Aeneas, who had been paralyzed and bedridden for eight years, and heals him with these words, “Aeneas, Jesus Christ heals you; get up and make your bed.” And finally we come to this morning’s text, the story of the raising of Tabitha or Dorcas. Here, in some sense, Peter’s progress is complete. Not that there isn’t more to be told of his life and ministry, but in this act of resurrection, his transformation seems complete. His faith has been fulfilled. His promise brought to fruition. As with Aeneas, it is clear, as he kneels in prayer that he is offering himself as a channel of God’s grace and power. He has learned to be open completely to how and when God may move in him and work through him.

Paul Nancarrow says of Peter’s progress that “…because Peter is following in the way of ministry revealed in Jesus, because Peter is enacting in himself the same eternal qualities of divine love communicated to him by Jesus, Peter dwells in Jesus’ environment, Peter dwells in Jesus’ ‘field of force,’ and so is empowered to do again the same acts of ministry first done by Jesus…the same divine presence and divine life is revealed” (Paul S. Nancarrow Process and Faith Lectionary Commentary, Easter 4, 2007.)

Most commentators seem to treat the tale of Tabitha as little more than a footnote in the stories of the early church. Maybe that is because it is the tale of a woman, albeit a remarkable one, or because it reads as a kind of second-rate account of a story we have already heard about in Elijah and Elisha and Jesus and Jairus’s daughter. Clearly, Tabitha, in her care and compassion for the needy in her community, had already entered God’s realm. She is obviously a saint, not only in the sense of being counted among Jesus’ followers, but also in the breadth and depth of her good works.

Of this passage, Walter Brueggemann says “The structure of this narrative—the miraculous move from death to life—is clear and unambiguous. It is an epitome of the truth of the gospel that God—in Christ—has transformed the world toward well-being. It is indeed a ‘miracle,’ which means that it is an inscrutable, inexplicable happening beyond all of our categories of explanation. The preacher’s task is not to explain (or explain away), but to witness to the concrete claim of the wonder that God’s power, in this instance, was decisive for life in the world” (Walter Brueggemann, Blogging toward Sunday, Theolog: The Blog of The Christian Century, April 27, 2007.)
Indeed, this is crucial to the good news, God’s power is always decisive for life in the world. Jesus, Peter, Tabitha, all have caught this vision, have come to understand that God is always for life and against death, to the degree that death has any meaning at all for God. And we are offered the same vision, the same power and the same responsibility to minister. Brueggemann goes on to say that “Peter, in our narrative, is an epitome of the authority and capacity and mission of the church. Peter, now the embodiment of the church, enters the room where there is a smell of death. He prays. He engages the body. He utters his commanding imperative. And life is given…”
We don’t practice resurrection much as a part of our faith. These old stories often seem out of touch with modern reality. They are lovely myths, but really…! We have difficulty imagining ourselves as agents of healing, let alone of resurrection, and yet, as our words of preparation say, “Clearly the narrative attests that Peter—the church—is entrusted with the resurrection power of Jesus who himself carries the force of the creator God. The church is entrusted with the power to create new life . . . bodily, concretely, locally.” What does this mean for us…bodily, concretely, locally? Peter’s progress tells us that our power and capacity to be the body of Christ, channels of his love, compassion and resurrection is that to which we are called. The process of living into such a reality may take a life time, may take suspension of our disbelief in life beyond our conventional wisdom and ordinary expectations, may mean being open to transformations in ourselves that are both unnerving and empowering, challenging and fulfilling. And so may God be gracious to us, helping us, like Peter, to find the way. Amen.