The mothers of the church
Photograph by Israel Torres via Pexels
Rev. Jerrod H. Hugenot
In his commentary on Acts, Bishop William Willimon calls Luke (author of Luke and Acts) “a master of adventure narrative.”[1] He argues the early Christians were not shrinking violets, even as they navigated uncertainty with Jesus ascended and the Spirit of Pentecost driving their mission well beyond “Jerusalem…all Judea and Samaria and to the ends of the earth” (Acts 1:8).
In Acts 16, we are in the midst of the adventures of the person who could have otherwise been voted “least likely to preach for Jesus”: the apostle Paul, who spent the first part of Acts as a persecutor of Christians and winds up one of the major leaders of the Church.
In this passage, though, we learn what the early Christians knew firsthand: the Church is very much subject to the winds of the Spirit of God. Paul diverts from his intended path to head for Macedonia.
Now Paul and his companions are further afield than they expected to go. (Note to the wise reader: When Jesus sends you to the ends of the earth, pay no mind to borders.) In what seems quite a good place to Baptists, Paul finds a group of women worshipping “down by the riverside” (to recall the favorite hymn).
Among them is a woman named Lydia, a seller of purple (more on that later) called “a worshipper of God,” a term used by the New Testament to note a Gentile who worships the God of Israel. Here, these women maintain a witness to God, even as the rest of the city gives itself over to the worship of the gods.
One might be a bit dismissive that such a small group meeting down by the riverside would hold potential for the ever-widening mission of the Church, yet Lydia and her compatriots become the core members of a Christian movement starting in Philippi. It is the Spirit yet again summoning, beckoning the “new.” Paul and his group help mentor and guide, yet it is the Spirit yet again that brings the Church closer to its ever-widening mission.
Indeed, Lydia is the first European converted to Christianity, beginning a long tradition of Christianity in Europe, and subsequently around the world. What Paul and his group thought was a diversion from their intended route is the Spirit’s work, which seems itinerant, yet it is indeed intentional.
When my wife and I studied at Spurgeon’s College in London during a semester abroad, faculty member Dr. Ian Randall split his teaching time between the UK and the International Baptist Theological Seminary, then in Prague. As a church history professor, he was often involved teaching the “survey” courses of Christianity’s growth and development. He found it fascinating to teach the same lessons to students in London and Prague and learn from the differing reactions of the students from the two schools.
One of his lectures involved recounting the history of the Baptist movement in the 17th and 18th centuries, where he showed an old woodcut image depicting Baptists gathering down by the riverside for baptisms. He told our class in London that this image evoked different reactions from his two classrooms. On one hand, the British students viewed the image of a large crowd gathering for an outdoor baptism as part of their past heritage.
For the students in Prague, primarily coming from eastern European countries where Christianity endured Communist suppression for decades, the image was not history. It was not their past but their present. The lesson learned: the Spirit of God is not finished with the gathered people called “Church.”
Lydia established the beginnings of a church at her home, offering her hospitality and welcome to other new believers. Whereas we might expect leadership to emerge only under certain conditions, the Spirit always empowers new leadership.
As a key convert during Paul’s visit to Philippi, Lydia’s trade as a “seller of purple” meant she was a person of means, selling fabric to the powerful and elite, who wore purple garments as a sign of their status. “I’m in purple sales,” might be the oddest thing to say at a Wall Street power lunch, yet for Lydia’s day, it meant she was well-established and wealthy.
I find it fascinating that Lydia moves immediately from her conversion to become a key leader in the emerging Christian fellowship in Philippi. By the time Paul leaves town (and there are complications he runs into, including a little time in a local jail cell), Lydia established the beginnings of a church at her home, offering her hospitality and welcome to other new believers. Whereas we might expect leadership to emerge only under certain conditions, the Spirit always empowers new leadership.
The conversion of Lydia is also about the change of Paul’s mind. While making the plans to travel and preach the gospel, he proceeds to a place he had not considered going. Paul struggles making any connections in Philippi, yet on the outskirts and margins of the town, he finds a faithful witness awaiting him. While he finds himself singing the jailhouse blues after tangling with the local authorities, Paul will discover that Lydia has spent her time building up a congregation.
Back in the 1990s, I recall a beautiful night under the stars. A group of Ottawa University singers stood at a place overlooking the city of Budapest in Hungary. Our host, a local Baptist minister, took our choir group on a tour of the city, regaling us with stories and a wonderful meal. (You cannot go anywhere in the world without finding a Baptist, and most assuredly, they will have a plate of food waiting for you.)
I asked the minister about the life of the churches in Hungary. The pastor told stories about various congregations. Along the way, he observed, “If it weren’t for the women, we would have no churches.”
The Hungarian pastor admitted being surprised by the response of certain Baptists back in America to women in the church. He noted the then (and current) efforts of the Southern Baptist Convention claiming (doubling down, even) that women could not be in pastoral ministry of any consequence.
He could not conceive of Baptist churches without women in the fullness of the life of the church being part of what made a church “tick”: women in the pulpit, women in the choir, women in the mission field, women in the furtherance of the Church. He celebrated how the Church could expand beyond the limits of the horizons other followers chose to maintain.
I agreed with him, growing up in the American Baptist denomination, where the stained-glass ceilings are less prevalent than among the Southern brethren and which reflects a diverse gathering of clergy. Go to a national American Baptist gathering, and you see the Spirit’s work, bringing together what politics and culture might otherwise keep apart.
I also grew up the child of churches where if it were not for the women, we would have little to show for ourselves. I learned early on in ABC church life that there is great good when the “mothers of the church” get behind the needs of a local church or around the nation or world. The Hungarian Baptist said it well, echoing the lessons of our Baptist heritage, the history of the Church, and the witness of the New Testament to the women who have enriched the community of faith.
Lydia is a good example to uplift as we approach Pentecost’s blazing fire. It is most appropriate to find Lydia down by the riverside at prayer on such a day as this, for we must also celebrate the continuing legacy of what happened next when Lydia embraced the gospel and lived it out.
Rev. Jerrod H. Hugenot is associate executive minister, American Baptist Churches of New York State.
The views expressed are those of the author and not necessarily those of American Baptist Home Mission Societies.
[1] Willimon, William H. Acts, Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching, Atlanta, GA: John Knox Press, 1988, p. 173.
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