Did you come to church today in search of certainty? Many Christians do. Not very surprising, is it? We live in a world in which the only constant is change. Our day to day lives are very uncertain and ambiguous. And in some churches you can get very clear answers. Here's how you live your life -- at all times and in all circumstances this is what you should do, and this is what you shouldn't do, this is what is right and this is what is wrong. Folks like this look at life in black and white terms with very little gray in it. We don't often get such certain talk here -- not because we neglect it, but because we recognize that life is in many ways ambiguous -- that there is very little certainty in it -- a lot of gray. Then there are the more traditional churches that have certainty built into the worship. They have creeds, like the Nicene Creed or a similar a statement of the church's ancient faith that is a part of the liturgy. In a world that is in constant change, here's something that has not changed for centuries. Some time ago, we had a student who thought that he really needed to recite the creed. He needed that certainty. This Baptist thing about being non-creedal, of taking the Bible for all its worth, rather than boiling it down to a few statements was too ambiguous for him.

But you know, life is not like that. Life is ambiguous. It is uncertain, and messy. Don't we know? When you think everything is moving right along and you are in a path to get somewhere something happens that messes up everything. And its not really like we can give easy pat answers to all the difficulties that keep cropping up or the gospel choices we have to make every single day. But there are two things that I do know. One is that I am following a shepherd -- a good shepherd. Two, I am on my way to that place described in our call to worship. Yes, I am and you are, a part of that great multitude of people, that no one can number from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and tongues, (sounds like our church, doesn’t it!) standing before the throne and before the Lamb clothed in white robes, with palm branches in our hands crying out with a loud voice, "Salvation belongs to our God who sits upon the throne and to the Lamb!" And I want to try to tell you today, why knowing those two things gives me enough certainty -- and why the ambiguity about every thing else is a joyous, even exhilarating ride of discipleship. The scriptures today, helps us do that.

First, let's visit a woman named Tabitha -- that was her Aramaic name. Her Greek name was Dorcas. Both names meant gazelle. Well, she lived in Joppa. Here was a woman who really lived out her faith. She seems to have gathered together and ministered to one of the poorest groups of people in that society -- and therefore a group to whom God's heart went out -- widows. In those days in that part of the world, women without men topped the list of vulnerable populations. A widow had little access to economic structures. When you read through the Bible God's concern for widows becomes very obvious. The widows of Joppa had only Tabitha's faith based initiative. In those days, poor women -- like the widows came together and pooled their resources. That's how they survived. They lived together, shared their goods and property and their religious convictions. This was Tabitha's ministry. Is it a wonder that she is the only woman of all scripture to be called a disciple. Tabitha cared for the widows, apparently out of her own resources and in the most practical ways -- she sewed their clothing.

But one day, she fell ill and died. And her death was such a crisis that they sent for Peter. I wonder what they expected Peter to do -- perhaps to grieve with them. Raising up dead people was not a common practice, even for Jesus, you know. Peter was in the neighboring town of Lydda, and he went there without delay. When he went there they took him to the upper room, where they had washed Tabitha's body and laid her. All the widows stood about the room weeping. Their grief was immense because their minister, their champion, their advocate, their co-worker, their sister was gone. They held up their tunics and other garments, which she had sewn. Peter sent them all out and knelt beside her bed and prayed. Peter and Tabitha, two disciples whose work was not done. Perhaps Peter heard from God that her work was not done. Sometimes when people die we try to console the family, and preachers do this all the time, saying that it was all God's will. Well, sometimes its not God's will. Sometimes people are taken away from us before their work is done.

Like Veronica Bowers -- did you read about her? Her friends and family called her Roni. This bright-eyed woman, with a glossy American smile (as Time magazine describes her), grew up in Virginia. Her most formative religious experience happened at age 12, when she watched her father get on his knees to invite Jesus Christ into his life -- then he got up and poured out all the alcohol in the house. Her family had never been religious before, but Roni accepted her dad's conversion as her own. At age 17, she entered the tiny Piedmont Baptist College in Winston-Salem, NC, where she met Jim Bowers. She had been very clear about one thing in her life -- her calling to be a missionary. So, she did not want to even date someone who was not clear about that calling. Jim had grown up on the Amazon, where his parents were missionaries, and longed to return. So, after college, they got married and signed up as missionaries to Peru.

In Peru, the Bowers' lived in a houseboat, with their 7 year old adopted son. There they preached the gospel to people who have never seen a light bulb. They gave out food and medicine just as they preached the gospel. Jim, now 37, ran Bible schools and played hymns on the guitar while Roni, 35, focussed on the women and children. She preferred to please people with an encouraging word or a home-cooked meal -- a real Tabitha. Following a miscarriage in to 10 weeks of her only pregnancy, she went into a depression, but with prayer and medication, she recovered and went on to adopt a brand new baby.

Now, in these jungles, where drug trafficking is a prolific trade, there are American CIA planes that fly at very high altitudes and have very sophisticated radar that patrol the skies. And when they can spot planes and are suspicious of them they let the Peruvian authorities know and the Peruvian planes go and shoot them down. This is very interesting, isn't it? Our government is still operating under the assumption that if they can use military power to stop the supply side of the drug equation, we will win the drug war. Our fascination with military power blinds us to the to the other side of the equation, that when there is a demand, people will somehow find ways to get to them. So we don't spend money or energy to help people in our country kick the habits that are so destructive to their bodies and souls -- but our answer is to shoot planes down.

About 2 weeks ago now, on April 20^th, the Bowers family was on a Cessna plane returning after a trip upriver. In those parts, you have to travel by plane, because there are no roads. The CIA plane spotted the Cessna and did caution the Peruvians that this plane may not have drug traffickers, but that didn't stop the Peruvian authorities. In spite of that a Peruvian attack jet intercepted the Cessna and shot it down. The gun shots hit Roni and baby Charity and both were instantly killed. Jim and 7 year old Cory barely escaped injury when the plane crash landed.

I don't know the Bowers family. I don't know their mission agency Association of Baptists for World Evangelism. I don't know their church, Calvary Church, in Fruitport, MI. I probably don't agree with their theology or their mission strategy. But this much I do know. This couple was intent on serving God where they believed God was calling them. And everything I read about them, from Roni's ministry to women and children to their adopting of babies tells me that they are dedicated servants of God. Some will undoubtedly say, well this is God's will. Her time had come. You know, it is very hard for me to believe that her work was done. Just as I refuse to believe that a Peruvian fighter jet and a CIA surveillance plane would be God's instruments for taking her home.

Peter was kneeling in prayer at the bedside of Tabitha. During my years as a hospital chaplain, I have been at the bedside of many people who were dying or had just died. Many times I prayed with them or with their families at the time of death. Did you ever think about what you would pray when it is very clear that this person is going to die in the next 5 minutes or is already dead? I tell you, I never, nor did the thought ever occur to me that I should pray that they would rise from the dead. May be I don't have that kind of faith, or may be I am just too realistic, or even I may feel that death really is nothing but a normal transition and why should I try to bring this person back into this difficult life -- wouldn't it be better to let the person go and join in the multitude around the throne of the Lamb?

I don't know what Peter was thinking, perhaps in the prayer God told him, that her time was not yet up -- that her ministry was too important that she needs to rise again, and live. Now, Peter had done some healings, but had not lifted up a dead person back to life. If I were Peter, I am sure I would find it rather intimidating. But he did and can you believe it, she opened her eyes. When she saw Peter she sat up. He called the saints and widows and presented her to them alive. Not only for Tabitha, for Peter as well, this was a transformation. Peter's transformation, which began with Jesus' resurrection, continued, and symbolized the transformation of the entire early Christian community. Here, his prayer and faith bring new life to Tabitha, such that "many came to believe in the Lord." Peter's faith and the work of the Holy Spirit give him and all the disciples the "authority" to continue Jesus' work—no small feat, considering that they are without Jesus' leadership and under increasing pressure from the state and Jewish community.

No such luck for Roni Bowers. Is it because Peter or anyone like Peter was not around? Was it that Roni's work was done and Tabitha's wasn't? Was it that risings from the dead don't happen any more? We can ask a hundred different questions. Questions are very important, the problem is that often we don't have answers. Those of us who like certainty would like some answers wouldn't we -- and how many pastors do you know that would tell you, stop asking questions. But questions are important even when we don't have the answers. Life is ambiguous.

The next story is about Jesus in the winter. "It was the feast of the Dedication at Jerusalem; it was winter, and Jesus was walking in the Temple, in the portico of Solomon." Almost every word of that sentence is heavy with symbol. The icy fingers of accusation point to Jesus in that winter of oppressive religion, the frost of Pharisaic attitude and the wintry wolves who howl for his destruction… you get the drift! "It was winter."

It was also the feast of the dedication, and we know its other name is Hannukah. It celebrated the re-dedication of the Temple when Jewish militants led by Judah Maccabee began an armed struggle of guerilla warfare and overthrew the Syrian occupation, and re-lit the Temple lamps and purified the temple. It's best to remember this, because Hannukah has come down to us as a Jewish Christmas of sorts, which no doubt will soon have its own Santa Claus and Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer. But it was the commemoration of a revolution, a grass-roots uprising, a guerrilla revolt which had grabbed the wheel of history and moved it forward. And on this inflammatory occasion, Jesus was there with his own fireworks -- to identify himself and to be seen in the Temple especially on that day, with his disciples, to relate to the revolutionary hopes of the people. And then we can understand the question that comes: "How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Anointed One, if you are the next Judah Maccabee, level with us." "Tell us plainly." We cannot deal with this ambiguity. Tell with certainty.

Now when theologians say "Tell us plainly" they mean something different from what ordinary people mean when they say "tell us plainly." Theologians, like politicians, have a different manner of plain speaking than most of us. Plainly in philosophical discussions is different from plainly in practical action. "I and the Father are one," Jesus says. Now that's six words (6) in John's gospel -- is as plain a description of Jesus' identity as you can get, don't you think? But no, that's open to too much ambiguity! So, that discussion that began in Solomon's Porch that morning continued throughout Christian history -- in search of greater certainty. It went through Church councils which created creedal statements like the Nicene Creed, through wars of the great heresies, across the battlegrounds of the centuries, with the Reformation coming along at the same time as the printing press to make it even more furious and extensive. The explosion of communications media in our time can do nothing but amplify and extend the size of the discussion in Solomon's Porch. All the councils and confessions that have divided the human community for two millennia can find their origin here in Jesus' reply that wintry Hannukah in the portico. "I and the Father are One."

Jesus answered, "I told you and you do not believe." Definitions alone, thousands of pages of definitions of Who Jesus Is, alone, will not inspire belief. "I told you and you do not believe." But Jesus says, look at the results. "The works that I do bear witness to me." This is not about talking the talk, its about walking the walk.

It is simply this: Jesus' identity, the definition of Who Jesus Is for us, is bound up with our response to what he has done for us. Jesus makes the claim that his definition will grow out of his deeds, his theology out of his praxis. The relationship will write it. "My sheep hear my voice and I know them and they follow me."

As a Marriage is defined not by the words in the statute or the language on the license, but by the relationship of the couple, so with Jesus-and-God, and Jesus-and-us. As Lovers are defined by the wordless witness of their passion, Jesus does the knowing, that his flock know him as relationship, not as information. Jesus is not More Information. Instead, the Church's faith is that Jesus is the kind of person that God is. Jesus' words are those of a good shepherd, who takes us by green pastures and still waters. "I know them, and they follow me," Jesus says. There is a kind of religion which will damn you if you have not got the right words about Jesus, and the right words about God, and the right words from the right Bible authorized by the right Church. This religion pulls your coat and asks, "Do you know?" To have all the gnosis will make you a gnostic, but not a Lover

What made Tabitha and Peter such disciples? What made Roni and Jim Bowers leave their home comforts in suburban Virginia and go to Peru? I think it’s the passion of following Jesus. Not looking for certainty -- Peter and Tabitha, Roni and Jim would have all stayed home if that's was what they were searching for. No, they were gripped by a relationship -- as sheep to the shepherd, they were propelled by a vision of all the multitudes coming together at the throne of the Lamb. And they were empowered by the Holy Spirit -- not the right words, but the risking, daring, exciting and exhilarating work of the Spirit. No, certainty here -- in the widow community of Joppa, in the Peruvian jungle, even in our ministry here in this community, everywhere you look its only ambiguity. But that does not matter to me. I know where I am going -- to the gathering of the multitude at the throne of the Lamb, and I am following my shepherd -- so even in death's dark valley, even in the dead of winter, I will follow. Because there is nothing more exhilarating than that.