The last portion of Acts 9 is a transitional passage that shifts the focus off of Saul’s dramatic conversion and back to the ministry of Peter as he visits and encourages churches in the coastal cities of Lydda, Joppa, and Caesarea, churches that were planted by Philip when he was transported there at the end of Acts 8. Looking backward, it sums up the fruit of Philip’s evangelistic ministry, and looking forward, it positions Peter to be on the scene for one of the great watershed moments in Acts, not to mention in the history of the church for all time, the ministry to Cornelius the gentile.

In verse 31, Luke informs us that following Saul’s conversion and retreat to his home city of Tarsus, “the churches throughout all Judea, Galilee, and Samaria had peace and were edified” (NKJV). In the verses that follow this statement, Luke deals with two characters, Aeneas and Tabitha, and these two characters tell us a great deal about the nature of the church’s calling in peacetime. A lot has happened to the church in Acts so far, from the pouring out of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, the bold and godly way that the apostles defied the Sanhedrim, the martyrdom of Stephen, persecution in Jerusalem, encounters with sorcerers, Ethiopian eunuchs, the radical conversion of Saul. In the meantime, off camera, as it were, all of those people who have been converted through the apostles’ preaching have been organizing themselves into churches, meeting one another’s needs, walking in the fear of the Lord, and in the comfort of the Holy Spirit.

So in all the urgency and adventure of the book of Acts, Luke gives us a bit of breathing room here. There’s been the constant presence of persecution and death; here is an instance of life. There have been several cases of the church and the apostles scattering; here is a story of restoration. God has tested and tried His saints, now He gives them a season of relief. And so one of the first things we should consider from this passage is how should we act in moments of peace.

John Calvin demonstrates a firm pastoral grasp on the human condition, commenting on this verse that,

“For as we are wont to riot and exceed in time of peace, the churches are more happy, for the most part, amidst the tumults of war, than if they should enjoy what rest they would desire. Therefore, let us learn not to abuse external peace in banqueting and idleness; but the more rest we have been given from our enemies, to encourage ourselves to go forward in godliness whilst we may. “

Aeneas

Peter takes advantage of this season of peace to do pastoral visits to the new churches along the seacoast, encouraging and building them up in godliness, and acting as the instrument of the two healing miracles that we read about. The scene opens with Peter coming down to the saints at Lydda, a city about ten miles inland. Here he sees a man named Aeneas, who has been paralyzed and bedridden for eight years. This is a callback to chapter three, the first healing miracle performed at the temple. We’re told that the man at the temple was born lame; why does Luke bother telling us how long Aeneas has been paralyzed? The overall effect of the story would be totally unimpaired if this detail were left out, or if it were slightly different, say he had been paralyzed nine years, or six years. We shouldn’t build our entire system of doctrine around this, but we do need to recognize that this detail, like all the details, is given to us by God in order to tell us something.

We’re not going to beat this to death, but there are important reasons for Luke including this specific detail about eight years of paralysis. In the first place, historical detail is good for credibility; Luke’s earliest readers could have gone to the church in Lydda and asked about this man. Luke is inviting his audience to check his claims by filling in verifiable detail. Secondly, and in a more immediate sense, think of Aeneas, the way this would have appeared to him. We don’t know much about him, as contrasted with all that we hear about Tabitha a few verses later, and her good works and godly reputation.

But while we don’t have any such details for Aeneas, one thing we know is what Luke doesn’t include, which is any request for healing on his part. This is the first time in Acts we see an unsolicited healing – Aeneas didn’t ask to be healed, and that fact is suggestive of Aeneas’ character and circumstances. For some of you younger saints, eight years is a whole lifetime or even more. For a grown man like Aeneas, eight years is an interesting amount of time; if you’ve had a condition or an injury for eight years, it’s a short enough time that you remember what life was like before then, but it’s also long enough for you to resign yourself to the new reality. Aeneas probably figured that this paralysis is part of who he is now; he’s not able to work, maybe not able to find a wife, and that sucks, but he’s trusting in Christ and the hope of a restored resurrection body, and in the meantime the church is helping to meet his needs. This was the best he could ask for under the circumstances.

Then comes Peter, and declares to him “Jesus Christ heals you!” and Aeneas is made well, in much the same way as the lame man in the temple, or the crippled men who Jesus healed, and Peter says, just as Jesus did, get up and make your bed. This is another case of the disciple becoming like the Master that we see throughout Acts.

But there’s more than that here. To help make sense of this passage and interpret it through a comprehensive scriptural lens, we should look to see where else in Scripture we find meaningful references to the number eight. And when we do that, layers of significance start to show themselves in a rich and beautiful display. I’ll mention a few of these references, and we’ll start to see a theme or pattern emerge here:

• Leviticus 25:22, after leaving their fields fallow in the seventh year, the Israelites were commanded that “you shall sow in the eighth year, and eat old produce until the ninth year; until its produce comes in, you shall eat of the old harvest.”
• 1 Kings 8:66, after Solomon dedicates the temple and offers sacrifices, we’re told that “On the eighth day he sent the people away; and they blessed the king, and went to their tents joyful and glad of heart for all the good that the Lord had done for His servant David, and for Israel His people.”
• 2 Chronicles 34:1-3, Josiah was eight years old when he began to reign, then in the eighth year of his reign, when he was 16, he began to seek the Lord. Josiah, remember, is the righteous king of Judah who follows two of the most wicked kings.
• The exile from Jerusalem was 70 years, or seven decades. Then in the eighth decade they began to return. And one of the reasons we’re repeatedly told why the Lord delivered Israel into exile is because they were not keeping the Sabbath, they were overworking themselves, their land, their animals, and their labourers. This meant that they were not trusting in God, and so they were turning to idols. So it’s somewhat counterintuitive, but there is a very clear relationship throughout Scripture between rest and exile; the exile is an enforced Sabbath.

So Scripture presents us with the number eight as the number of starting over. In both of his epistles, Peter takes care to mention Noah, and the fact that there were eight people in the ark as it served to help human civilization start over. Biblically speaking, the number eight represents a return to work after the Sabbath, whether it’s a Sabbath week, or year, or decades. What this means for our passage is that as Peter imitates Christ, making use of this season of rest to restore Aeneas to health and wholeness for the purpose of kingdom work, Aeneas himself acts as an image of the church, the expanded Israel of God.

John Calvin actually interprets this summary statement in verse 31 as meaning that the churches had peace at this time precisely because Saul had left the region and gone back to Tarsus. He reasons that Saul was no longer provoking the enemies of the gospel with his preaching, and so they left the churches alone for a short time. That’s plausible, it’s not historically necessary, but I don’t think it’s controversial, based on everything that’s happened so far in Acts, to say that the church is given peace because the church needs rest at this point; it needs a season of Sabbath.

We would do well to remember in our time that while we, as the church, are in the glorious position of being the army of the living God, that’s nothing to do with our own strength or skill. God did not choose us for anything good in us; the church is not an elite SEAL team of the best of the best. We’re beset on every side by pride flags, hate speech codes, and an overreaching nanny state with iniquitous levels of taxation, and internally by factions and envious squabbling, and the constant disgrace of the scandals of celebrity pastors, not to mention all the personal sorrows that each of us have been given to carry. A Christian could be forgiven for looking at the landscape of Christendom and feeling crippled, paralyzed, helpless.

But this is not the way we’re meant to stay. Like Aeneas, we might be tempted to think that things have been this way for so long, this must be as good as it gets; our hope is in Heaven, I guess we just have to ride this out. Thanks be to God, He has promised not to let us languish in such a state. We don’t know how long we will each have to bear our particular cares and burdens; we don’t know how long the church will be harassed and troubled from without and within; we might not even be actively looking for a remedy, but we should all expect that in whatever church and whatever life where the gospel is allowed to have its effect, wherever the Spirit’s presence is found, that we will see the deliverance of the same promise made to Aeneas: Jesus Christ heals you! If you find yourself in a time of rest, don’t get used to it. Don’t squander it by making an uncomfortable and temporary peace with the unredeemed world. During times of peace we should be practicing godliness, studying and growing in the Word, redeeming that time so that we’re better prepared to start over on the eighth day, to get back into the fight.

That will be attractive and compelling to the world, and just as they did at the healing of Aeneas, many will see the life and strength and joy of Jesus’ church, and turn to the Lord.

Christian Service

Passing on from Aeneas, the second of these peacetime stories is that of Dorcas, or Tabitha. This is another first in Acts, the first recorded resurrection at the hands of an apostle.

            And unlike the scanty detail surrounding the healing of Aeneas, with the raising of Tabitha, Luke provides so much information that we could be left wondering what it is we’re supposed to be noticing here. In the first place we see again his diligent historical record-keeping. Luke is inviting his first-century audience to go to this city, this church, this home, look at these names, and confirm for themselves. Another reason it’s historically credible because no one would make this up if he were trying to present someone in a good light to a Jewish audience. Touching dead bodies is unclean; a tanner is an unclean profession. If Luke were giving a verbal account of this, and someone asked him what Peter had done and where he had stayed, he would have had to answer kind of sheepishly.

            Before we look at the story of Tabitha in detail, we should spend some time on what this narrative tells us about the character of Peter and what it teaches us about Christian service. We’ve already seen how Peter is concerned to make the best use of this time of peace and visit the churches in relative freedom. Now, we see that when the disciples heard that Peter was in Lydda, they made the ten mile trip and prevailed on Peter to come with them to see Tabitha. This tells us first that Peter’s character was such that he was willing to be interrupted in service to the church. Roman Catholics elevate Peter, as the first pope, to a status beyond ordinary human attainment; nobody can touch Peter. This is obviously a serious error, but Protestants can easily be guilty of the same mindset with contemporary celebrity pastors. I’m not saying you should never go to a conference, and certainly there’s a valuable place for the public, visible declaration and representation of the faith. But we see in Peter’s willingness to go wherever in service to the church, an attitude of humility that shows an understanding of Jesus’ teaching that he would be great among you must be the servant of all.

This is another feature of peacetime service, that it gives us room to be interrupted. If you’re dealing with an urgent situation close to home, you shouldn’t be going on tour. But when things are at peace, this is an opportunity to strengthen those bonds of unity in the Spirit between ourselves and others. And  so it’s significant that these two healing accounts occur not, as earlier miracles did, in an evangelistic or apologetic setting amongst unbelievers, but in a pastoral context. We’re told that the report of these miracles was spread far and wide, and that many believed in the Lord, but they took place in and primarily for the church. Twice in this passage Luke uses the word ‘saints’ to describe the people Peter is visiting. This is a common Pauline word for the church, but it’s quite a rare word for Luke, in the entire book of Acts it only appears four times, and two of those are here within the space of ten verses. The Lord is vindicating His servant not only in front of the watching world, but in the midst of the church. 

Tabitha

We’ve already seen how Aeneas is a picture of the church, so it should come as no surprise to hear that the same is true of Tabitha. We have more detail about her life and character, so there’s more that we can say about the church as it’s represented in the figure of Tabitha; she is an image of the church not only in what she needs, but in how she does what she is meant to be doing. Tabitha does not ‘deserve’ to be raised from the dead anymore than any other saint. All the same, Luke takes a lot of space to tell us about her good works and reputation. Tabitha’s works of service are mentioned twice. This is how Luke introduces her in verse 36, “This woman was full of good works and charitable deeds which she did.” Then in verse 39 Peter arrives and finds a room full of widows, “weeping, showing the tunics and garments which Dorcas had made while she was with them.”

So the first thing we should see here is the obvious point that caring for the needy, and especially for those who are needy within the body, is an essential part of Christianity. Aeneas was a recipient of that care, while Tabitha was extending that care to others. Generosity is another repeated theme in Acts – this is how we prove our faith, by doing good to all, especially to those of the household of faith (Galatians 6:10). Tabitha’s work of making clothing is not the hobby of an idle retiree who took up sewing to have something to do. This is a needful ministry; there were Christian widows in Joppa – poor, elderly, unprotected women – who would have gone about half-exposed in rags if it weren’t for the work of this wealthy Christian saint. Matthew Henry puts it poetically, that “it was the credit of Tabitha, when she was dead, that the backs of the widows praised her for the garments which she made them.” Tabitha is a Proverbs 31 woman, her hand grasps the spindle, she makes clothing for her household, which in this case is the church at Joppa, the household of faith.

And in that role she represents the church as the mother of all the faithful, caring for the children of God. This is contrary to Roman Catholic doctrine which teaches that Mary, the mother of Christ, is the mother of all the faithful. No. Scripture is clear that that role is filled by the church. No disrespect to Mary, but it’s not Mary who brings you soup when you’re sick, or comforts you and prays for you in time of grief, or watches your kids on short notice. That’s us, brothers and sisters, united together in one body as the bride of Christ, providing the care for one another that all children need. It’s here, in Mother Church, that we receive not only this practical care, but also where we’re fed at Christ’s table week after week, as we participate in His death and in His glorious resurrection.

So that’s one side of the image of Tabitha as the church – the reputation for good works that she has in caring for the saints. The other side of the image is found in Tabitha’s need, which is nothing less than life from the dead. We’ve looked earlier in this series at some of the ways that the apostles imitate the great prophets Elijah and Elisha – remember Philip in chapter 8 running up to the chariot, and then suddenly being taken away, or earlier in chapter 9, Saul as the enemy of the church being struck with blindness on his way to Damascus. Both Elijah and Elisha also have resurrection stories (1 Kings 17:17-24; 2 Kings 4:32-37). In those cases, as with most of the cases with Christ, there’s a child who dies and a mother who receives them back from the dead; Tabitha’s case is an inversion of those roles.

Now how far can we push this analogy? We don’t want to say that the church is dead, Christ has promised that that will never happen, no matter how desperate things may seem. And we don’t want to say that Tabitha was just in a coma. That would contradict the plain message of Scripture: verse 37 says that “she became sick and died.” What we need to do is understand death from the perspective of the risen Christ, because this is how Peter understood it. We don’t have a record of what Peter said in the room with Tabitha’s body, but we’re told that he knelt and prayed. And I think it’s clear from the way things unfolded that Peter understood what John later made explicit in Revelation 1;18, where Jesus says, “I am He who lives, and was dead, and behold, I am alive forevermore. Amen. And I have the keys of Hades and of Death.” Peter understood that because of Jesus, death is no longer a one-way passage. He has the keys; He can go back and forth, and anyone who goes with Him has that same privilege.

This was prophetically enacted by Christ in Mark 5, when he raises Jairus’ daughter to life. What does He say there? She isn’t dead, but sleeping. And all the mourners ridiculed Him, but Jesus says to this dead child, Mark records in Aramaic, ‘talitha, cumi,’ little girl, arise. What does Peter say, in verse 40? The exact same phrase, with the difference of one letter, “Tabitha, cumi,” Tabitha, arise.

This should give us great hope for the church. Again, like Aeneas, there’s much in the church of our time to grieve and weep over. Like Tabitha, there are churches with godly histories and reputations that are now dead. And make no mistake, there are dead churches and dead denominations out there that just need to be put in the ground. But that’s been the case in every age, and God has always preserved for Himself a pure, spotless bride, and a faithful mother for all His children. The true church isn’t dead, it’s resting. We all know churches where it seems they’ve been resting for far too long, they’ve mistaken a season of peace for a lifelong pattern, and we should plead with the Lord to grab them and tell them to rise up. But the fact remains that wherever God is, there is life, no matter how dead it may seem, there is eternal, undefeatable, resurrection life wherever God is present by His Holy Spirit. This hope of resurrection was the confidence of the disciples at Joppa, it was the confidence of Peter as he prayed and spoke, and it’s our confidence today.

Lord Jesus Christ,

You are the One who lives and was dead—and behold, You are alive forevermore. You hold the keys of Death and Hades. In You, death is no longer final, no longer a one-way door, but a passage You have crossed and conquered. We consecrate ourselves to You now—our lives, our work, our church—because You alone have power over life and death. Teach us to see all things, even death itself, from the perspective of Your resurrection. Strengthen us with the hope that in You, nothing is truly lost. Use us, O Lord, as vessels of Your life-giving power, for the glory of Your name.

Amen.