Hospitality of Lydia

Acts 16:9-15

In the book of Acts, we travel with Jesus’ followers to new lands as they spread the good news. Paul has a vision of a man asking for help in Macedonia, with his companions, Paul travels to this Roman district in Europe. On the Sabbath, they go to the river. Perhaps there is a temple or synagogue there or just a known place for gathering and prayer and there they find a group of women worshipping God. Among these women is Lydia, a dealer of purple cloth. We know very little about Lydia, but what we do know is fascinating. The rest we could imagine from the text.

Lydia was a rarity in those days, not defined by husband or children, but by her textile business. She was her own woman, successful and free. The leaders and elites of Macedonia looked to her to supply the luscious purple fabric for their robes. And in return, they paid her well with money and respect. They listened to her, this woman who possessed a strange authority, as she measured out bolts of the fabric, she told them stories of a foreign God, not the gods of Rome, not stories of Jupiter, Apollo, or Venus, but stories of a tribal God of Israel—a single God who was greater than the many, a God who created, a God who protected and liberated, a God of love and mercy. Lydia was strange indeed, but the people accepted her.

She observed the Hebrew Sabbath and would gather with other women by the river side. There they would worship this God with songs and prayers. They would tell each other stories of their encounters with God.

One day, several men, foreign travelers joined them. And the one named Paul began to tell them new stories about this same God: about how this God had also become human, had lived and breathed among them, had appeared to Paul, and showed him the error of his ways as a zealous Jew who persecuted Christians, and had convinced him that he, Jesus, was truly the Messiah, the Son of God, for whom they had waited for so long. Lydia was immediately convinced that this man spoke the truth—that the Messiah, whom she had heard about, had really and truly come—had died, and then risen again, and continued to live through his believers. She vowed to do whatever she could to help spread this new message. Since she was already telling the story of God, she would happy tell this story of Jesus too. She asked to be baptized and to have her whole household baptized as well, so that they might all begin this new journey. And finding out that these foreigners were traveling missionaries, with no place to call home, Lydia insisted that they stay at her house and use her good fortune to help spread the good news.

God opened her heart and she, in turn, opened her home. After her baptism, she turns her house into a base for the spread of Christianity in Europe. Her baptism leads immediately to hospitality and a sharing in all the risks of mission.

Luke, the writer of Acts, doesn’t expand on just how important Lydia’s hospitality is, but we can see that she gives them a home-base. A place to sleep and eat, a place to return to from preaching and later from prison. Paul and his companions are in a foreign country, they have no place to call home, and the gift of Lydia’s home provides much needed creature comfort so that they can have the physical strength and sound mindset to continue the work of God. Maybe she went out and preached too, or maybe she continued with her business, providing fine clothes for the rich, telling them her story, of this Jesus she had met and of these travelers staying in her home.

Hospitality: no matter who it is from is a great gift: having a place to go, to stay, to sleep, to eat, to rest weary bones and fill empty stomachs, a place of safety cannot be overestimated. Neither can kindness to strangers.

Lydia is a model, an early church mother, for us now and for the church. Jesus might have asked Lydia to give up her wealth, to sell her house and follow him—but she gives these things to god in different ways: she doesn’t sell her house, but she gives it to Paul for God’s purposes.

What if we extended our resources: our time, our money, our space to help feed those who are hungry? It would be our basic task as Christians, and a clear example of Lydia-like hospitality. It would not change the whole world, but it could help, in small ways, to transform part of the world. What if we served breakfast, once a week, to the homeless and hungry in Alexandria, right here in our social hall?

This might include coming in on a weekday morning before you head to work or go about the rest of your day. It might include scrambling eggs or having a cup of coffee with someone who is struggling and in need. It might include washing table clothes, setting up tables, or buying food. This is not the kind of thing that is easy. It won’t be for the feint of heart, but it will be for the kingdom of God. After all, it is so important to eat a healthy meal in the morning. Most of us know how much some caffeine and protein can make a huge difference. On a cold morning, we could provide a warm place to sit for an hour or two. Our neighbors could find church doors that are open, and people who care—not because of our own agenda or because we have to, but because God cares. For people living on the margins, seeing a volunteer, someone who gives their time and effort just for the sake of giving it away, can give these folks so much hope—just to know there are people in the world who would care for them and expect nothing for themselves in return is life-changing.

Paul responded to a vision from God.

Lydia responded to Paul’s message of God.

How will we respond?