The Trust and Hospitality of Lydia

Sermon for 6th Sunday of Easter Year C 5/25/25 John 14:23-29

Grace to you and peace from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.  Amen.

Whenever a female figure is lifted up and named in the Bible, I feel it’s important to share her story and make sure people know about her. Last week, we learned about Tabitha and her servant leadership. She made an impact even after her death, so much so that her community cried out for her to be restored back to life, and then somehow, she was! 

This week in Acts, we learn about Lydia, and the women Paul meets along the river in Philippi.  We also learn that God comes to us in unexpected ways:

·       in dreams and visions

·       by a river praying with friends

·       through the message of a converted persecutor of the same people he now prays with.

We recognize through the story in Acts, and many other biblical narratives, that our dreams can be sources of divine wisdom. Nuggets tucked away inside our unconscious, interwoven with the surreal. God can and does use all our senses and experiences, to guide us towards ever deepening, courageous hospitality. 

Originally, Paul’s vision was of a man of Macedonia, pleading with Paul to come help the people there. Paul believed it was a mission sent by the Holy Spirit. He and his companions woke up the next day and sailed to Macedonia, no questions asked. They trusted that this vision, this dream was from God.

When they arrived there, they didn’t find the specific man Paul had seen in his dream.  They found a group of women gathered by the river at a place of prayer.  And they welcomed them into the close-knit prayer group.

We might ask, why would a place of prayer be outside the gates, near a river? In a Jewish community, when the people could not afford a Rabbi, they would often gather outside the gates at rivers to worship together. They used the water from the river for purification rights. That’s why.

I’m struck by a number of things in this story: one is the trust, and leaning in that Paul does at the behest of the Holy Spirit.  He wakes up from his dream and simply knows the message is from God. There’s a call to go, and he answers it simple as that.

I know a little bit about following something bigger than ourselves into the unknown, as I’m sure many of you do. 

I remember meeting a Pastor in Albany Park, when I lived in the city, and having a conversation about seminary.  I didn’t know a lot about seminary, in fact, I only knew of one seminary, the one in Chicago. I didn’t know if I was really called to be a Pastor at that time. But over the course of our conversation, and when I met the professors, I said,

“OK, maybe I’m called to seminary; I’m not sure what else yet, but I’m called there. 

Then when I interviewed for an internship in northern Texas, I felt that pull, that tug of terror and excitement mixed together, and thought, “Ok, I never expected this, Lord, but maybe I’m called to this site in Texas!” Every step of the way it was like the Holy Spirit unfolded new possibilities in front of me.

It’s scary to trust the fluttering in our stomachs, that feeling, that hunch,

when it feels like something is lighting a fire under us and we know, on some level, it’s beyond anything we’ve ever experienced. But something compels us forward.  I believe that is the work of the Holy Spirit- the indwelling that Jesus talks about in the Gospel of John.

Eugene Peterson’s transliteration of the Bible in The Message, conveys this theme when he writes:

If anyone loves me, he will carefully

keep my word and my Father will

love him—we’ll move right into the

neighborhood!

God will move into the neighborhood; and not only that, God will pitch a tent alongside us. God will be so close to us and abide with us it’s as if on a summer night when we’re camping in our backyard, God is with us.

It can be frightening to follow where the spirit leads, but Jesus promises us, we are not alone. We are never alone and that pull, that tug we may feel first in our stomachs, before our heads catch up…this is the work of the Spirit. 

I have felt that movement of the Spirit so strongly in this place lately. It’s not a safe feeling, but rather; there’s risk involved, as we know from scripture: The disciples were not safe a lot of the time. I'm not even sure how many times Paul was arrested; and none of the disciples really met good ends.

But the work of the spirit was worth it, is worth it. —The Spirit, she is our compass—When we’re not sure where to go, or what to do next.

Maybe a number of us have graduated recently or changed jobs or found ourselves in unexpected circumstances.  It’s the spirit who will teach us all we need to know, will advocate for us, Will guide us, will protect us and all of God‘s people.

Getting back to Lydia, she was a Gentile, who was a believer in Jesus.  Her heart was broken open by the Holy Spirit, to hear and take in Paul’s teaching and preaching.   She too felt that pull in her stomach, that “yes” bubbling up inside of her; The conviction that YES:

·       I want to be baptized. 

·       YES, this is who I’m meant to be.

·       This is who God made me to be: I am a beloved child of God.

And it’s not enough for just Lydia to be baptized.  She responded to Paul’s message of love and grace, and belonging, saying - I want my whole family to be baptized. I want everyone to feel this sense of belonging, this alignment with the soul. This love of God who pitches a tent with us and does not leave us orphaned.

And it’s not enough for my whole family to be baptized…she says to Paul: I want to shelter you. I want to bring you into my household, to feed you, to give you a place to stay and rest… a small comfort for the missionaries of God on the move.

It is through the magnetism of the Holy Spirit, another divinely orchestrated connection, that Lydia becomes a bright spot of hospitality for Paul. Because soon after this, he and Silas are arrested.

But creation itself disagrees with their imprisonment and an earthquake shakes loose the cell doors.  They run back to Lydia, and the fledgling community church that she started in her home.  And Lydia welcomes them back again with open arms.

Lydia, a dealer of purple cloth, a person of wealth and status. She had a lot to lose by associating with missionaries essentially marked as escaped prisoners. It could harm her business. But she knew that gut feeling that pull of the Holy Spirit, and she stood strong, ready to welcome anyone in Jesus’ name.

Last week, we talked about the direction in which the divine flows: It is always, always towards us first and foremost. God comes to us.

What would it be like to emulate the hospitality of Lydia— but also the welcome of the Holy Spirit? who comes to us in our dreams; who is always a step ahead of us, always already there, pointing us in the direction we should go.

When we consider what the radical welcome of Jesus Christ looks like, may we think of Lydia’s hospitality and trust, opening our arms wide, ready to receive the Holy Spirit’s nudging.

Knowing that the risks are worth it, and God is already in the neighborhood.

Amen.