One day a couple of years ago, my father called me and said, “Jeanie, I need to talk with you.”  By the tone of his voice, I knew it had to be something important, and indeed it was -- he wanted to go over his funeral arrangements with me.

Now, let me say that my Dad is in great health for someone who is turning 87 in a few weeks.  But he likes to have everything in order, and that includes the details for his funeral.  So we sat down and he went over all the arrangements he had made.  And then he handed me a piece of paper, on which he had scribbled some points to be included in his obituary. 

 

There were the facts and figures: that he was born in Rochester, NY; that he graduated from Dartmouth College; that he has three children, nine grandchildren, and one great grandchild.  And there were the interesting aspects of his life: that he was a dive bomber in the Navy during World War II and went down in the Pacific; that he spent most of his career in advertising; that he played drums in different jazz bands over a span of 70 years; and that he had a passion for golf.

 

But as I looked over the draft of his obituary, I could not help thinking how inadequate it was; was this all there was to show for Dad’s life?  Because my father is so much more than just his education, his survivors, and some hobbies.  There was nothing in that obituary to convey how great a guy he is, or how wonderful a father, or how generous, or how much love he has shown to so many people in his life.

 

What about the hours he spent rooting me on as I struggled to learn how to ride a two-wheel bicycle?  What about the time he was away on a business trip, but over the phone he supported me as I toiled to learn my multiplication tables?  What about the times, long before the women’s movement, that he encouraged me to have a career?  What about all the times he inspired me to take chances, to stick my neck out, because falling short was always better than not trying at all?  What about the times, after I was all grown up, that he was there when I had to tell him, more than once, “Daddy, my husband is very sick”?  Where, in between the lines of that obituary, was all the love that he has shown?

 

An obituary can never sum up the total of a person’s life, because there is so much left unsaid, so much still hovering between the lines.  And in this morning’s scripture lesson, we are left with the same feeling that there is so much more to the story than what is written.

 

The main character is the first Greek female mentioned in the New Testament; she has two names; in her native language, she is Dorcas, and in Aramaic, Tabitha; both mean “gazelle,” which speaks of a gracefulness and gentleness of spirit.

 

There are only seven verses in Tabitha’s story, but what a story it is.  Tabitha is insignificant by worldly standards because she is a woman when it is men who are in power, and her talents are restricted to using her hands rather than her voice.  But however insignificant she may be by the standards of the world, she is mighty by God’s, for she uses her gifts to help the disenfranchised and marginalized of society. 

 

We read in our passage that Tabitha is “full of good works” [v. 36].  Through the ministry of the apostle Philip, she has become a follower of Christ, and she openly gives of herself by serving the poor through her gifts at sewing.  She has a particular ministry of making robes and other articles of clothing and giving them to poor widows, who love her for her many acts of kindness.  We can imagine, between the lines of her short story, that as she helps clothe these women in fabric, she is also clothing them with dignity; through her gifts, she builds up and encourages her less fortunate sisters.  And in the process, she becomes beloved in her community.

 

But one day Tabitha gets sick and dies, and the community she leaves behind is bereft.  In tribute to their friend, the widows take out the robes and other articles of clothing that Tabitha has made and show them to one another as they mourn her death.  We can picture the tear-stained faces of these women -- at what we would today call a wake -- as they share their memories of all the kindnesses Tabitha has shown them.  And that community is left to wondering – how are we going to replace Tabitha?  Who can give and show love in the special way that Tabitha did?

 

Her friends cry out to Peter, “Tabitha is dead!  Come save her!  We need her!”  And so Peter comes and he prays.  And Tabitha lives again, to carry on her good works and acts of charity.  They don’t even have to try to replace her; but they never could have, anyway – because there is no one else like her.

Like Tabitha, each one of us is irreplaceable.  We are each special creations of God with our own unique gifts.  And that is certainly true of our confirmands.  Alex, Shawn, Courtney, Emily, Lindsey, and Kyle – today you begin the next phase on your journey of faith.  And it is my prayer that, as you go from here, you will discover your unique gifts and find your special place in the Christian community where your love will shine.  Because no one can give and show love in the same unique way that each of you do – or that any of us does.

We see in Tabitha’s story that one person’s gifts and love can change a church, a community, perhaps even the world.  We never read of Tabitha again in scripture.  But Joppa was an important city in the spread of Christianity, and no doubt word of Tabitha’s wonderful ministry and miraculous resurrection was spread to other ports by people on the trading vessels that were launched from Joppa.  She “became a symbol of resurrection life in the Joppa church because her simple acts of compassion and caring expressed, in a visible and tangible way, something of the incarnation and resurrection of Jesus Christ.”[1]

 

Tabitha’s community had much to show of her love.  And so, think about it -- what will you be remembered for?  Will you, like Tabitha, leave a legacy of love? 

 

Alfred Nobel hadn’t given that question much thought until one day, he awoke to read his own obituary in the paper.  It was someone else named Nobel who had died, but an overzealous newspaper had published the death notice of the wrong Nobel.  It described him as “the dynamite king, the industrialist who became rich from explosives.”  It made Alfred Nobel sound like nothing more than a merchant of death.  Nobel was upset by what he read…upset that his legacy would be one of destruction.  And so, he resolved that day to change the course of his life and do something positive for society.  He left his entire fortune to be awarded to individuals who have done the most to benefit humanity, and the result is the five Nobel Prizes that are awarded each year.  Now, Alfred Nobel’s name is associated with winners of this prize, like Martin Luther King, Jr., and Albert Schweitzer.  Nobel transformed his life from one of success to one of significance.

 

When you die, what will you be remembered for?  What will be your legacy of love?  Tabitha, who was insignificant by worldly standards, is known to us today, almost 2000 years after she lived, because of her “good works and acts of charity.” 

 

As her spiritual descendants, may we all follow in her footsteps by living lives that are focused not on success, but on significance.  May we, like Tabitha, leave a legacy of Christian love.  Amen.