Introduction
There are great and famous figures who attract our attention for good or ill, and there are little known people of skill and compassion among us whose inspiration we sometimes only recognise after they have gone. Jesus and Dorcas teach us that competition between the two kinds of person is dull and unhelpful. Both have their place. The question is what will they do with what they have been given.
Context
It would be fun if everyone in London could wear a Panama hat and, whenever they pass by the end of Downing street, or see a stock market trader, or walk through the grand porticos of the City of London offices, just lift their hat gently and politely, then get on with the day, but perhaps – for once – also to insist in their favourite café, that it be fairly-traded coffee today. We have all benefited directly or indirectly from tax-avoiding devices and avaricious hedge funds. Sometimes it suits us to get cross and point the finger. Certainly, the macro-economic picture is in view this month, grand indignant statements coming from all sides about tax avoidance, desperate scrambling for ethical high ground claiming ownership of words like ‘living wage,’ shrill anxieties about leaving or staying in Europe. Meanwhile, most people grind on with their work, if they are fortunate enough to have it. Today’s readings challenge us to reflect on the link between faith, creativity, charity and commerce, and on where our spiritual identity is properly anchored.
Reflection
It would be a serious mistake to patronise a church women’s sewing circle. After all, Moses knew that sewing, among other artistic skills and crafts, and the ability to pass them on, is a gift of the Holy Spirit herself (Exodus 35.30-36.1) Moreover, Luke clearly wants us to meet and remember a highly skilled, generous, intelligent, agile Christian needle-woman, telling us her name in two languages. Dorcas, Greek for ‘gazelle’, has been working with a group of widows (therefore, economically vulnerable women) to help themselves in the process of helping others. Her death has struck deep at the heart of the community.
There is something very poignant about their showing the apostles Dorcas’ needlework. Stitches are very intimate, like handwriting, or a painter’s brushstrokes. You feel very close to their hands when you gaze at them. ‘How will we manage without her?’ they ask. Has she handed on the gifts, we may wonder.
As with the widow’s son at Nain, or Lazarus in John’s Gospel, or, way back, Elijah raising the widow’s son at Zarephath, the startling but temporary gift of a beloved person’s return to life in the Bible tends to be a sign for, and judgement on, the community. ‘This time, you are relieved they are given back to you. The real long term question is, what kind of community are you for the widow who loses her son?’ and ‘It seems God can’t resist soothing your grief on this occasion, but are you ready to carry on the charitable industry that Dorcas taught you?’
Another elegant woman, Angelina Jolie, also agile (remember Lara Croft) and who has faced up to serious illness, has shown us that sometimes the small scale economics and the individual life well lived can be transformative and truthful. The experience of filming Lara Croft in Cambodia gave her the opportunity to see close up the needs and potential of skilled industrious women. In her work as a UN ambassador, she has used her western fame to encourage micro-credit, and to pump prime tiny industries in several countries. One of the most impressive micro-credit organisations is the Indian ‘Self Employed Women’s Association’ (SEWA) founded by Ela Bhatt, a lawyer for the Textile Worker’s Association. SEWA formed a bank that went on to provide micro-credit for many thousands of women, their payback rate of nearly 100% startling other much grander banks. Arising from her advocacy and leadership, Bhatt is also among ‘The Elders’ convened by Desmond Tutu and others since 2007. Again, women involved with textiles are not to be patronised.
Like that of Dorcas, these are stories that judge harshly the grandstanding of the economics that brought us the crash, and yet leaves its senior figures so highly paid. Dorcas’ identity was that of a learned, practically and artistically skilled, compassionate follower of Christ. She had initiative, a political astuteness, recognising the particular economic vulnerability of widows, and agility, judging by her name. Some people, like Jolie, do seem enviably gifted, but they have a real choice about how to use what they are given.
Jesus, of whom Dorcas has been an exemplary disciple, proved worth following because of his mesmerising, if sometimes provocative integrity. What a resonant name: ‘the Portico of Solomon.’ This newly re-built temple harks back to an age of confidence and wise leadership, and the solidity of stone and authoritative names are lending growing confidence to the religious authorities, even though the heavy hand of Rome is still on their shoulder. There is some Roman money in the building. But this Jesus figure is tantalising. He seems to do tradition – he’s here at the festivals, he knows the Scriptures and uses them with irritating effectiveness. Their enquiry of him is urgent: ‘How long will you keep us in suspense?’
Here we feel what a very fine line there is between excitement about him (Palm Sunday) and violent rejection of him (Good Friday). It still could go either way. Indeed, after this encounter they pick up stones ‘again’ (v.31). At some level, they do want him to be the Messiah, but they want to control and claim him, like they claim Solomon by association. His offence, here in the heart of the city talking to the elite, is to use rural imagery showing the ordinary faithful as free, yet protected, a flock whom the elite cannot snatch from his hand and control in their own way any more. So, no. They don’t want him to be a Messiah who marginalises the elite. They are indeed in rather tortured ‘suspense’.
We want it, we don’t want it. We want establishment, we want to speak up for the little guy. We want our relative wealth. We want to criticise those wealthier so we needn’t be embarrassed by our wealth. But in the end, whether we are a film star or a sewing circle member, a preacher or banker, a widow or a teacher, whatever gifts we have, we have a choice about how to use them. That choice will be affected by the kind of figure or institution we settle on as our guide and authority.
Prayer
provoked by Psalm 23 (and Proverbs 9.1-6), John 10, Acts 9, and Revelation 7.9-17
God, you set a feast for the weary and defeated, the frightened and the mortal. We feel a strong feminine hospitality as we approach you, your Wisdom welcoming us to an undeserved seat at your table. Help us to give in to your welcome, and then give in to the thought that you may welcome others whom we would not normally sit with. Embolden your church to live out your hospitable Wisdom, setting food before the hungry, offering dignity to the defeated, and comfort for the bereaved.
Wise God,
do not keep us in suspense.
God, you see our grand gestures, beautiful buildings and hints of association by which we establish our status. We think we are so subtle. Yet in one man you have shown us true integrity. As we behold him, beneath the portico, his love stronger than stone, his speech more graceful than grand arches, his courage outlasting Roman dynasties, put into perspective today our hierarchies and sense of establishment. Keep our hearts alive to the vulnerable humanity of all your flock, from bankers to street children, from cabinet ministers to needle-workers, from bishops to actresses, from shepherds to scholars.
Provocative God,
do not keep us in suspense.
God, getting to know your servant Dorcas, we pray for all who strive to make a living through exquisite craft; and for the fair trade movement, so easily patronised by banks with grand porticos. Admiring the interplay of her heart, mind and skill, we pray for education, peaceable faith, practical opportunity and warm community to weave together the fabric of healthy community in our neighbourhood, and in neighbourhoods dependent on self-motivated, self-employed women the world over. Glimpsing your compassion in Dorcas’ life, we pray for all in our community who have been bereaved. Inspire us, though her example, to accompany each other through the valley of the shadow of death.
Compassionate God,
do not keep us in suspense.
God, we are intimidated by war and wicked regimes, and struggle to imagine a world without them. Lift our gaze to imagine all nations and all human would-be powers before you, the One who rules over all, belittling our petty struggles. Hold before us the image of you as Lord of heaven, wiping a tear from each person, so intimate, so tender. Then, as we return to the conflicts of our day, reveal our macho competition for what it is. Give us courage to insist that leadership, male and female, can be tenderly authoritative.
God of the big picture;
God of the tender detail;
merciful mother and father of us all,
hear our prayer,
and do not keep us in suspense.
Amen.
Questions
- Why do we wait until people have died to compliment them on their skill?
- Is there any way, without being over self-conscious, to correct this tendency?
Action
Visit the Traidcraft website, or look through their catalogue, if your church has one. See the goods made with needleworking skills. Buying any will, of course, support the craftswoman/man, but it will not be an act of charity. You will have a gift of a beautiful item, with stitches giving intimate yet elusive connection to the hands of the Spirit-skilled maker. It will be an act of political import. ‘Fair trade’ should be a tautology. You could then consider what an act of true charity might be.
Young people
Choose a favourite item of clothing you have bought recently. Look closely at its stitching and imagine the hands that made it. Send an email to the brand/chain you bought it from saying how much you like it, and asking where it was made, by whom, and what pay and conditions they experience. Perhaps you could ask what proportion of the cost you have paid went to the person who did the sewing.
David Warbrick is Vicar of All Saints Kings Heath in the Anglican Diocese of Birmingham. His sewing is terrible, but his cooking passable.
Hypertext links to other websites are for the convenience of users only and do not constitute any endorsement or authorisation by ROOTS for Churches Ltd.