Easter 6 Year C

I was talking to someone recently about Biblical books that might be a ‘go to’ and I mentioned that one of the reasons I like Acts is that it features women who are there in their own right. There aren’t a lot of women in Scripture who we meet as self-sufficient characters. Mostly, we meet wives, daughters, sisters and widows. But Lydia is in this morning’s story simply because of who she is and how she responded to Paul. She won a right to her own place in the narrative of the earliest days of the church.

We know a little bit about her, and theologians and others over the years have tried to find ways to fill in the gaps. In common with very many women in Scripture, we’re not entirely sure about her name. She may well have been named Lydia by her parents but it’s equally possible that she was known as Lydia because of her geographic context. Thyatira was in an area of Asia Minor called Lydia and so she may well have been known widely as the woman from Lydia who traded in purple fabric, Ms Lydia, perhaps, for short. We know that purple was especially sought after in the ancient world and had a higher value than other colours of cloth so that probably gave her a particular status within the community.
Thyatira was known for a particular form of purple dye which was made using the root of the madder plant, a plant which is still used in natural dyes. And so we surmise that she travelled to buy and sell. We know that she had a house in Philippi because that’s where she invited Paul and Silas to join her. Perhaps she had a house in Thyatira as well. What we do know is that she was in a position to own property in her own right; that she was the senior person in her household; and that she chose to be baptised along with her household.

She was the first person to be baptised in a Western country, although her country of origin was in the East. So there’s something interesting there about crossing geographical borders and boundaries. Perhaps she became a missionary back home in the East. We don’t know. We do know that she was already a religious woman; Paul met her at a place of prayer on the Sabbath. The emerging church in Philippi met in her house. Her hospitality allowed enquirers and new believers to gather and to grow in their faith and we know that’s where Paul and Silas returned to after they were released from prison.

So let’s turn to the painting that I have shared with you this morning. There are a few depictions of Lydia in art. This one was commissioned by the owner of a dry-cleaning company in 1928. I assume he was interested in the subject matter because it showcases fabric that, these days, would need to be dry cleaned. Whatever his motivation, I think it helps us into some theological reflection.

Central to the painting is Lydia, clothed in her purple cloak and being converted by Paul. That’s where your eye is drawn and we’re reminded of the significance of the colour purple as it dominates what we see. There are images of other characters, not all contemporaneous with her story. There’s the group of people in white who I think may be members of her household waiting to be baptised. And then there is a twentieth century mother and baby in the foreground at one side and Roman soldiers playing a board game on the other side. There are two Eastern philosophers watching what’s going on and the entire scene is being observed by a Buddhist monk. The fishermen’s boat is heading inland; the person who’s being taken away on a horse is trying to look over. Even the cat is focussed on the action.
A pretty diverse group of people with no obvious connections between them. And that I think is the point. There is nothing to connect the Roman soldiers and the contemporary mother; nothing to connect the Buddhist monk and the Eastern philosophers. And yet they are all focussed on this central scene where a woman is coming to faith in Jesus.

What I read into this painting is that it’s reminding us of the journey of our faith, that from this first very public conversion, possibilities opened up for people in a whole range of situations. Some of them became converts themselves, some of them observed the emergence of this new religion and were curious, some of them continued with life as it was. But none of them was able to ignore what was happening. None of them was denying that something significant was happening, something that resulted in conversion of life, in transformation.

We’re perhaps reminded of the importance of hearing God’s word, shared here by Paul; the importance of getting oneself out of the way in order to let God in. This woman, who had status in the community, a business woman and property owner, is on her knees, head bowed and receiving a blessing. We recognise her, we recognise that something significant is happening; perhaps we even feel inclined to turn away and give her space in the intimacy of the moment.

I wonder who the Lydias of our time are? The women whose presence draws us to them. The women who appear to be deeply, intimately, connected with their God. The women who we turn to not because of who they are in themselves, but because they are witnessing to something beyond themselves. Women who point us towards something that we can’t ignore.

There are women in the church who fit that role. The bishop of Newcastle might be one who comes to mind; perhaps some of the prominent Roman Catholic women who have found a way to have a voice in a public arena, and there are some women Rabbis who are having a significant impact on people of faith across the world. For people outwith our religious communities, there are women in the world of arts and performing arts who witness to ways of living and being that perhaps begin to impact on how people experience their own journey through life. The world of sport might bring similar examples. Examples of people who are courageous enough to respond to the nudge of the Spirit in their lives; people who are flexible enough to change direction in life; to turn from the old and begin to experience the new.

The painting speaks to me of the transition from what was to what might be. From old certainties to new potential. Faith is never a constant, never a fixed point. If we can engage with the narrative of our faith we will find ourselves on a constant journey, a journey that will take us to the end of this life and beyond.

Most of us won’t ever be central in the picture or exemplars of a change of direction in life. But we are all counted amongst those who have responded, however tentatively, to the word of God and the movement of the Spirit. With Lydia we are counted amongst those who bow their heads and pray that we will be blessed.