
Bible reading: Acts 9:36-42.
Message.
I’m sure that we’ve all watched or read about this week’s VE Day commemorations – indeed, it’s been impossible to avoid them! Much of the media’s attention has focused on the surviving veterans from the second World War, all of them now around 100 years old (and some of them still remarkably sprightly). There has understandably been a lot of emphasis on former soldiers and airmen who fought in and above Europe, rather less on sailors; I may have missed it, but I don’t recall hearing much about men from Commonwealth and European countries who served alongside them.
Of course there were many other people – civilians – whose support was vital to the war effort; some of these, such as members of the Merchant Navy or the Fire Service, served in conditions of extreme danger. I was pleased to see an item on the Bevin Boys who were conscripted to work in the coal mines, and we now all know about the code-breaking which took place at Bletchley Park. I wonder, though, how many of you have heard of a tiny group of people who became known as the “Idle Women”? These were drawn from all walks of life: posh debutantes, bombed-out East-enders, a former ballet dancer, even a soon-to-be duchess; the only qualification they needed to join up was a “robust constitution”.
But who were the “Idle Women” and why were they so-called? Well, the nickname came from the badges they wore, emblazoned with the letters IW for “Inland Waterways”. For these young women had been recruited to crew narrowboats on Britain’s canals, still an important part of the transport infrastructure, after many boatmen had left to join the armed forces. There weren’t many of them, only around 45 in total, and they were certainly not idle as the work was hard: a crew of three women who had to handle both the diesel-powered narrowboats and its butty boat. Each pair of boats carried loads of up to 50 tons, mainly steel from London to Birmingham, before returning with coal that had to be shovelled directly on to canalside factory wharves. For this round trip of some three weeks consisting of 18-20 hour days, the ‘girls’ were paid £3 per week, with the option of a week’s unpaid leave afterwards. And, unlike the Land Girls who worked on farms, the “Idle Women” received no extra rations, largely subsisting (we are told) on cocoa with condensed milk, bread and peanut butter.
Today we’re thinking about a lady in the Bible who, although she didn’t perform heavy manual labour, could never be called ‘idle’. She is one of those people who only gets a very brief mentions, but who is note-worthy: Dorcas, also known as Tabitha – I’ll come back to those names in a moment. She is important for two reasons. The first is obvious from the story: here is a woman who, we are told, was raised from the dead by the apostle Peter. There are clear parallels here with some of Jesus’ miracles; we might also think of the widow’s son who was brought back to life by Elijah in the Old Testament. Here, if we believe that the story is true (which is certainly how it’s presented to us), we see a living example of Jesus’ promise that his disciples would do great works after he had returned to heaven and sent the Holy Spirit.
The other reason that Dorcas is important comes from the way Luke describes her: she is a “disciple” – and the Greek word he uses is only applied to two other people in the book of Acts, both of them men: that’s Ananias, who opened Saul’s eyes after he met Jesus on the Damascus Road; and Timothy, Paul’s missionary companion. There are of course other believers or followers of Jesus named in this book, including Timothy’s mother. However only three of them are given this specific description of “disciple”, which suggests that Luke wanted to flag them up as especially significant individuals. One writer says this: “Tabitha bears the privilege and the burden of being the only named female ‘disciple’ in the New Testament. The burden of being the first is the expectation of being a role model for all those that follow, to set the pace for future leaders … Such an honour and responsibility does not mean that there were no others who could or should have been called ‘disciples’. Sometimes timing is everything, and Tabitha’s story comes to us because of her death” – and, I’d add, because of the miracle which brought her back to life.
As I’ve said, Tabitha is one of those Bible people that we don’t know much about. But we can build up a bit of a picture of her from the information we do possess. For instance, those names: her given name Tabitha, which means “gazelle”, clearly marks her out as Jewish. However Luke also gives us the Greek version of this name, which is “Dorcas”. As she lived in Lydda, a town just a few miles inland from the port of Joppa (which today is Jaffa, part of Tel Aviv), one suspects that she often mixed with Greek-speaking Jews or even actual Greeks; indeed I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that the group of Christians there included Gentiles as well as Jews. We must wait for the next chapter to read about Peter’s willingness to accept Gentiles as true Christians, but perhaps his attitude was already begin to soften – after all, this chapter ends with him staying in Joppa with Simon the tanner, who a rigorous Jew would have avoided as ritually unclean.
Let’s get back to Tabitha. And, apart from her name, we know that she was “full of good works” and “necessities for the poor” – which implies that she was both wealthy and generous. If that genuinely is the case, then she realised that the flip side of her privileged status was to provide for folk who were less fortunate. Tabitha was, as one writer says, “handy with the ancient equivalent of the sewing machine”: we know this because, when Peter comes to see her lying dead in her bed-chamber, the grief-stricken widows surrounding her make a point of showing him the clothes (possibly underwear) that she has made for them – which, when you think about it, was a bizarre thing to do! Was Tabitha a widow herself? We don’t hear of a husband; and, if she was, she would have known about the destitution faced by other widows who often received little or no support. So perhaps we should think of Tabitha as a social entrepreneur, well-regarded by her church. Her death was clearly a huge loss to her fellow-believers, practically as well as emotionally – for she was indispensable!
One commentator on this passage, a theology professor at an American university, asks, “How is one ‘full of good works’? Does this mean that Tabitha’s entire life was dedicated to others, even at the expense of her own health?” She goes on to make a comment which I’m sure chimes with our own experience: “Churches often rely on the persistent work of a few women to fulfil their ministries. And these women are usually mature people who have been convinced to be women who never complain. They expend all their time and resources for the benefit of others at the expense of their own well-being”.
This writer – a person of colour – makes some particularly pertinent remarks about what she calls the “Strong Black Women”. This is a woman who rarely, if ever, says “no” or complains, someone who everyone looks to when things go wrong, someone who feels compelled to endlessly serve others. She rarely asks for help, she is expected to never break down, she remains an example of stalwart faith in the most painful circumstances. This, says our writer, is all very well – but the strong woman’s cries for help are rarely heard because everyone assumes she has the inner strength and faith to cope in all circumstances. Are there people like this – women or men, black or white – in our church? If there are, are we in danger of taking them for granted?
We aren’t told anything about Tabitha’s faith, although it must have been strong. However – unlike Peter, Paul, Philip and some of the other apostles – her Christian ministry appears to have been one of “doing” rather than “speaking”. We don’t read of her preaching in the marketplace, but we can imagine her gathering a group of vulnerable women around her and chatting about Jesus as they sewed. We each have different gifts, which we should use in God’s service; for some “gossiping the Gospel” will be just as effective as public proclamation. In any case, our words and actions must combine to present a picture of Jesus; as the letter of James says, “Faith without works is dead” and, “What the Father considers as pure and genuine religion is this: taking care of orphans and widows in their suffering”. We don’t hear of Tabitha helping orphans, but she certainly did look after widows!
Obviously the main focus of this story ought to be Peter’s amazing miracle. But that somehow feels almost incidental. Tabitha or Dorcas, choose whichever name you prefer, was clearly an inspiration to those Christians in Joppa. She may never stood in the marketplace to speak about Jesus; yet, in her own quiet way, she was an effective evangelist, a spreader of Christ’s Good News. We may not be any good at sewing – I’m absolutely useless! But what skills do we have, and what can we learn from Dorcas’ example?