Dear Friends, Neighbors and Members of St. Cyprian's,

Sadhus at Maha Kumbh Mela Festival, Allahabad, India   Image above by Anders Blomqvist

I've recently acquired some photographs. They are of Sadhus in India. If you aren't familiar with them, they are ascetic, wandering monks whose focus is on liberation from death and rebirth--- there are women who pursue this path as well. They live on the edge of society in caves, temples and wear very little clothing, and look a lot like a Rastafarian or a Hippie. I bought the images from a pastor who took them not long ago. Having them staring at me, as I sit down for dinner with Matt, or read a book or watch tv --- makes me question my comfort and stability. These holy people staring at me, sitting on the edge of a temple wall, face and body painted colorfully, invite me to question my life and values.

These sadhus remind me of Jesus, Peter and Tabitha in last Sunday's scriptures. Like Sadhus, Jesus, Peter, and Tabitha were absolutely devoted to spiritual liberation. They are also liminal people, who stimulate and inspire devotion in others. In John's gospel today, Jesus is questioned by a crowd at the temple on Hanukkah. They want to know who Jesus is --- is he the messiah? The leader they have been waiting for? If Jesus were to say yes plainly as requested by the crowd, then someone will likely accuse Jesus of blasphemy. There's suspense everywhere.  Jesus points to his work --- his healing, feedings and teachings. "The works that I do in my father's name, testify to me" Jesus then challenges the crowd, pointing out what makes them different from his disciples. His followers, his sheep hear his voice --- and they know him and he knows them. There's this intimacy --- this depth of knowledge and experience, this commitment to a path --- there's common relationship, struggle, sacrifice --- Jesus then goes on to make the bold assertion, "The Father and I are one".  

In Acts of the Apostles, we meet a devoted disciple named Tabitha who was much beloved and exceedingly generous. Widows, who were among the most vulnerable and powerless people in that part of the world in those days were weeping not just out of grief but also desperation, who will take Tabitha's place? Who would care for them as she did? They hold out the tunics to Peter, "Look at these beautiful fabrics that she made for us?" There's such tender devotion being expressed --- and also great sorrow.  Peter's prayer awakens Tabitha from death --- and the author tells us "many believed in the Lord."

In both John's Gospel and in the story of Tabitha in Acts, we are invited to pay attention not only to individuals, like Jesus, Peter and Tabitha but the differences between spiritual communities of shared practices and crowds. In John's gospel, Jesus responds to the crowds questions of his identity by pointing to his work of liberation --- and to the people who have followed him, his sheep. Jesus is perhaps inviting the crowd to consider joining up, provoking consideration of their own lives and relationship to good works, sacred community and divine union. Perhaps like Harvey Milk, Jesus is saying "My name is Jesus, and I'm here to recruit you." Jesus is saying more than "I'm a big deal", he's saying "we're a big deal" --- perhaps Jesus is saying, I'm not here to serve as some patriarchal military leader, I'm a movement instigator. You want change, join in, you want liberation, get your hands dirty, you want to know who I am? Get to know my voice, let me hear yours...let's get close.

In Acts, Peter has an occasion not only to raise the dead, but also acknowledge the spiritual gifts and leadership of an up to this moment unknown woman in Joppa, Tabitha. What we discover is that she has been caring for the vulnerable widows of her community, and following her death, the widows were seemingly left without a protector and advocate. But they and we are treated to a miracle, to an act of an apostle, together we discover that belonging to a devoted community of shared practice, following the way of Jesus means we are never left alone, and that the renewing, reviving spirit of resurrection is always with us. I'm not convinced that Peter's prayers alone raised Tabitha from the dead, my hunch is the deep collective yearning of those widows in grief had just as much or perhaps more power to awaken Tabitha. Just as Jesus invites the crowd to a deeper intimacy, Tabitha and her community of widows invite us to deeper generosity and compassion.

Tragedies like those in Boston and West Texas, disappointments like the failure of our government to pass reasonable gun control legislation, our personal struggles and challenges --- all remind us of our reliance on a power greater than ourselves. We cannot put our lives back together alone. We cannot make sense of our world in isolation. The crowd in the Temple on Hanukkah questioning Jesus, wanted to know who he was, wanted spiritual wisdom and knowledge on the cheap --- just tell us who you are already --- at least at that moment they were unwilling to enter into a deeper commitment into a shared community of spiritual practice.  

This crowd perhaps trusted more in the power and privilege of the temple and its priests than in the vulnerable and risky teachings of this wandering rabbi and his followers from galilee. Liberation, spiritual or otherwise, requires discipline, commitment, and perhaps most important of all intimacy --- being in relationship with one another, sharing burdens, pains, struggles. Consider the accused bombers --- their failure and of those around them to connect with one another --- as one of the suspects said "I don't have any friends who are Americans, I don't understand them."

The world needs more committed communities of shared practice, we need to be challenged by the witness of sadhus, monks, nuns, rabbis, and generous women like Tabitha --- we need to go deeper than our individual minds and hearts alone can take us. But we also need to acknowledge that being a follower and disciple is very different than being part of an anonymous crowd. We need to be known and loved as individuals with unique struggles and personalities, heartaches and identities.

These sacred stories invite us to think about our lives, our values --- to consider how well we know Jesus' voice, and how much he knows ours --- how we are called out of the crowd and into lives of greater depth and fullness not for ourselves alone, but for the liberation of all.  

See you soon at Turk & Lyon!  

Peace,  

St. Cyprian's Episcopal Church

turkandlyon@gmail.com