Introduction to Worship

Today we finish our series looking at Women of Faith in the Bible by looking at Lydia whom we meet in the Acts of the Apostles. Lydia was a seller of purple cloth and, as we shall see, was a successful business woman. In some ways her story is similar to that of Esther whom we met a few weeks ago. Both women make a distinctive stand, putting their security on the line for others. Esther makes this stand on behalf of her people, whereas Lydia makes her stand in solidarity with Jesus whom she came to know as her Lord and saviour. The other difference between the two is that Esther got to her position of influence because of her gender - she was chosen because of her beauty to be queen. Yet Lydia got to be a successful business woman in spite of her gender. Lydia was a self-made woman, and as such, her story has less to say about prejudice that those we have explored so far. Yet it still lurks below the surface, even if in a sense we may not usually associate with the term. We live today in a post-Christian world. People are not hostile to our faith; they are indifferent to it. The Church is seen as quaint but irrelevant, out of touch with the way most people live. We are, therefore, unlikely to face persecution for our faith, in the way that Lydia was risking. As we meet to worship today, we thank God both for the freedom we have to worship and for the witness of people like Lydia who believed in spite of the risks.

Opening Prayer

Lord, whose way is perfect,
Help us always to trust in your goodness,
That following you in all simplicity,
We may possess quiet and contented minds,
And may cast all our cares on you,
For you care for us.
Amen.

Sermon

They say that there is no such thing as bad publicity. I am sure that some of the people in today's Sunday editions will disagree! As you know I am quite enthusiastic in getting good publicity for MCC - but there are some things I have learnt not to do. Two or three times a year I am asked to appear on rather dubious day time TV shows to talk about gay weddings, transgender issues or being a gay pastor. I have learnt that most of these are not good for us. I did Richard and Judy, but am always saying no to "Tricia". That type of publicity we don't need!

It only takes one bad news story or appearance in the media to make people think we are a joke just as it only takes a hint of scandal, a suggestion of malpractice, to send a firm's profits tumbling and slash the price of its shares. All this may seem a long way from the woman we're considering in the last of our series, for Lydia could hardly be described as big business, let alone discussed in the same breath as today's multinational corporations who protect their image so carefully, yet the analogy is nonetheless worth pursuing. In the context of her time, she was a woman of substance who had achieved financial success through building up what must have been a thriving and lucrative business. How can we be so sure? The answer is there in one small but vital detail, for it wasn't just any cloth she dealt in but purple cloth - in other words, the imperial colour of Rome worn only by the emperor and those of rank and authority. Lydia's, then, was clearly no run-of-the-mill business but one that dealt in exclusive, top-of-the-range goods.

Establishing such an enterprise represents no mean feat. To not only hold her own but also prosper in the cut-throat world of commerce, Lydia must have been someone with her head screwed on, a woman of shrewd business acumen. She would have understood as well as any the importance of keeping in with the right people, avoiding anything that might damage her reputation or in any way deter clients. One careless move, one unwise decision, could have costly consequences. Yet a chance encounter by the riverside was to lead her to put at risk everything she had worked so hard to build up.

One moment, she had been gathering with her friends to worship God, as was her custom; the next, she had declared her faith in Christ, a man she had never known or seen, and invited his followers into her home. 'The Lord opened her heart to listen eagerly to what was said by Paul. When she and her household were baptised, she urged us, saying, "If you have judged me to be faithful to the Lord, come and stay at my home." And she prevailed upon us'

What, you may ask, was so dangerous about that? Why should her decision to follow Christ have any bearing upon the future of her business? Surely the two matters were completely different? Had we been talking of today, that might have been true, but then it was a different matter. Judaism - the religion Lydia followed - had become accepted in the Roman Empire. Jews were seen as a "legal religion" aside from the Roman Imperial cult. Their worship and refusal to burn incense at statues of the Emperor was respected. o Christianity was another matter, in many parts of the Roman Empire arousing suspicion and hatred, and being seen as anti-social. Even in these early days, Christians found themselves under the cosh, their beliefs misunderstood, their customs distorted and their name used as a scapegoat for all kinds of trouble.

It is not hard to imagine what her friends must have said and how appalled they must have been. What was she thinking of, getting mixed up in this new fangled religion? Had she thought through the implications of her decision? Had she any idea what it all might cost? And, of course, it's just possible that she hadn't. After all, this was the first time Paul had visited Philippi and, as far as we know, the first time the gospel was preached in this part of the world. Maybe she made her initial commitment in all innocence, oblivious to the controversy surrounding Christianity or the official Jewish line towards it. Perhaps when she learned more about it, she might yet change her mind and avoid damaging her prospects. If any thought that, they were in for a disappointment, for Lydia was soon to be left under no illusions as to the cost of serving Jesus. An incident in the marketplace in which Paul challenged the exploitation of a young and disturbed slave girl led to him and Silas both being set upon by the mob, accused of treason and flung into jail, and though they were later released the die had been cast, no question now as to the sort of response Christians could expect. As a market-trader herself, getting involved with this man spelt trouble with a capital 'T; as a supplier of cloth to the authorities, it meant alienating her most valued customers; as a Jew, it meant estranging herself from those with whom she'd worshipped; as a citizen of Philippi, it risked making herself a social leper. Yet she carried on regardless. Why? Not because of Paul, but because of Jesus Christ, the one he proclaimed and in whose name he acted.

Instead of disassociating herself as quickly as possible from everything to do with Paul, and instead of reconsidering her decision to follow Christ, she opened her home to those who had come to faith, and, as Acts tells us, on their release from prison she welcomed Paul and Silas as well. For all we know, it may be that the church in Philippi to which Paul wrote one of his letters continued to meet at that time in her home! A woman proud to be associated with the name of Christ; like Paul himself, not ashamed of the gospel or concerned at the prospect of misunderstanding, rejection and hostility arising from her decision to follow Christ. Here was a woman who was prepared to put her faith before all else, even if it meant risking everything she had worked so hard to achieve. Her lesson for us today is straightforward enough. How ready are we to be identified with Christ, to stand up and stand out for him even when it may be costly or demanding to do so? How willing are we to put Christ first, even when it may clash with other interests? How far do we make our faith public rather than keep it a private affair between God and ourselves? How much are we ready to sacrifice, should it be asked of us? In Lydia we see a woman prepared to risk everything for one who had given everything for her. Have we the faith and commitment to follow her example?

Prayer

Lord Jesus Christ,
you identified yourself totally with humankind,
sharing not just our life but our death.
Forgive us that sometimes we are reluctant to be identified with you.
We are afraid of what people may think,
embarrassed by the possibility of being misunderstood,
worried that it may affect our prospects,
nervous about what it might lead to.
Lord Jesus,
help us to put you first in our lives,
even when that might mean putting other things we value second.
Teach us to show in our lives what we claim to be true with our lips.
Amen.

Meditation of Lydia

They all think I'm mad, getting mixed up in this Jesus business
ought to have more sense they say -
and I can understand their reasons well enough.
You see. I'd have thought the same once.
Why take any chances when you've worked so hard
to make a success of your life?
Why risk everything for the sake of some newfangled religion?
Yet let's be fair. I'd already put myself out on a limb,
rejecting the idols of Rome to worship the God of Israel.
That was bordering on the eccentric,
more than a trifle suspect in some people's eyes.
Yet while it may have made me different,
even perhaps considered a little odd,
it hadn't actually harmed my prospects.
A matter of choice, that was the way people saw it;
they go their way and I mine.
So I did just that.
And though I say it myself, I made a good fist of it -
my business thriving,
my lifestyle more than comfortable,
myself respected,
a valued member of the community,
successful pillar of the establishment.
But then I heard about Jesus, and I was fascinated immediately.
I suppose it was the way Paul spoke of him.
His faith was so real,
so alive,
almost radiating from him,
and I listened entranced to everything he had to say,
knowing that this man Jesus was for me,
the one thing missing in my life,
the answer I'd long been looking for.
What else could I do but accept him?
How else respond than declare him as Lord?
Yes, I knew the controversy surrounding him,
the hatred of the Jews,
suspicion of the Romans,
and I understood from the beginning it might be costly,
possibly risking everything I'd worked for,
maybe even more.
Once I'd opened my home like that,
welcomed his followers,
offered hospitality,
there could be no going back.
I'd shown my colours,
made my stand,
identified myself with Jesus beyond question.
So yes, perhaps I am mad,
perhaps I ought to think again,
but it makes no difference.
Though they urge me to keep quiet,
implore me not to make a show,
I have no choice -
I have to follow, serve him, play my part, come what may.
Oh, I know they mean well,
that they want to save me from myself,
and I'm touched by their concern, believe me.
But even if they're right and I do end up losing everything,
it doesn't matter,
for I've found far, far more
than anything I may ever have to sacrifice.

Amen.

This sermon was first preached in the Metropolitan Community Church of Manchester. Click here for further information.