Confessions in purple
A friend writes to her mentor
In my sanctified imagination, Lydia (a dealer in purple cloth whom we meet in Acts 16) writes to her friend and “father in the faith,” Paul, about her beloved community in the city of Philippi.
Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash
Dear Paul:
Greetings to you!
I write today to express my sincere sorrow now that I’ve heard that you’ve been imprisoned for an extended time. You carry the name of Jesus the Messiah with you, and I am so thankful that I heard about Jesus and began to follow the Way when you came to us here in Philippi. My heart – all of our hearts here – were saddened and discouraged to hear that the troubles you had here in Philippi seem to have followed you. I just can’t fathom how you, who brings such a blessed treasure, who proclaims such good news, continues to find opposition wherever you go.
It grieves me that trouble keeps besetting you. And I hope that in some small way, the gifts that we have sent to you have helped to ease the pain you experience in prison.
I have begun to see for myself the trouble that bearing the name of Jesus can bring. Things have begun to go that way here for us too. Now, of course, you know our commitment – MY commitment – to the gospel. You were there when I first heard your message. You know my story – how I was eagerly worshipping and praying (and had been for some time), when you appeared in Philippi and gave us the name, the words, the substance to ascribe to the One we were seeking in our worship in our prayer. You know how readily I accepted your message, and then how I asked you to confirm and prove my faith was genuine by inviting you and all your companions to stay at my home. Ever since that day I have put all my resources at your disposal. Everything I own is here to benefit the followers of the Way – who need to meet, to eat, to have places to stay, and places to gather here in Philippi.
But things have become increasingly difficult for me, and for many of us who follow the Way.
You’ve been to our city, so you’ve seen all the various deities that people here worship. Zeus, Athena, Artemis, Dionysus, Cybele, Silvanus. Even some Egyptian deities such as Isis and Serapis have people devoted to them here. Not to mention that Philippi is sometimes called “mini-Rome” and so there are many here who dedicate their resources to worshipping Caesar. I understand – before I knew the name of Jesus, I followed the deities that my father honoured. I guess it didn’t sit well with my spirit, for I kept seeking. But whenever there was a fund-drive for one of the temples in the city, I would show my goodwill to my hometown by making a donation. Of course, we all want the rain to fall, we want crops to feed the city, we want people to be healthy, babies to be born, marriages to be fruitful, and wealth to go around. And everyone believes that our beloved city benefits when the gods are satisfied. When the tide comes in, all ships rise. So, I would often give funds or articles for worship.
Now that I follow Jesus, however, I have turned down requests to fund and outfit these celebrations and temples, and instead have chosen to put my resources toward the gathering of Christians in my home (and to you, of course, dear Paul, my “father” in the faith of Jesus, who baptized me). It is all joy to spend what I have in this way, to send you help when you need it, and to contribute to the collection for the Jewish saints in Jerusalem that you have been gathering as you travel.
Unfortunately, those around me do not see this in such a positive light. My brothers are quite horrified that I have been spending my considerable resources in this way. They often tell me that I am a fool for following Christ. They remind me that I will never have my name on an inscription that lists me as a benefactor of this city – an honour that I once might have said was the goal of my life – if I keep this up. My brothers believe (and at one time I did too) that we would live on after we left this earth by having memorials dedicated to us in our cities. It’s become so difficult to talk to my family that I’ve begun to stay away, as they have nothing good to say to me. They are convinced that I have abandoned the religion of my ancestors, and they accuse me of being “atheist” or “godless” because I worship only the One True God. Yes, following Jesus is a source of joy; but to my family it is a source of shame, and they heap that shame upon me.
And it’s not my family alone. As you well know, I’ve done very well in this life as a dealer in purple cloth. But in order to run a successful business, you need customers to buy your products. The demand for what I sell has never been higher, but I am noticing that there is a dip in the people who decide to buy it from me. I’ve had one of my best customers come and tell me to my face that they decided to find another dealer because they don’t like that I have followed after something that they consider to be a strange and useless religion – a decision they interpret to mean that I no longer care about the welfare of our city. Most people have not been so bold as to tell me this outright, but I know of more than one customer who has simply quietly started taking their business elsewhere. On occasion, I have even had various authorities and magistrates stop by, telling me that they will need to inspect what I sell, telling me it’s about quality control. I’ve never had this happen to me before I became a follower of the Way, not in all my years of business. I can’t be sure, but I think I have even seen people on my street and nearby my house who seem to be watching what is going on, monitoring who comes in and out. All this adds up, of course, to a dip in my bottom line. And there are days when I worry about that, for I don’t know how long this slide will take, or how far it might go. I suppose it’s possible that one day I will lose all of my customers to other dealers who would be all too eager to snap them up.
Photo by Samuel Martins on Unsplash
And this makes me fear for the meeting at my house, and even for the aid that I send along to you, Paul. Of course, I fervently pray that day will not come, and that this dip in sales will slow or stop before too long. Maybe someday, there will be some who will buy from me because of my allegiance to Jesus – who knows? But it would not be honest of me to say that this this doesn’t sometimes trouble my mind and disturb my sleep in the wee hours of the morning.
Another thing that weighs on me is the welfare of our dear Epaphroditus, whom we sent along to aid you with our gifts and blessing all those months ago. As much as news of you being put into chains upsets us all, we are also quite concerned too for Epaphroditus, for we heard that he had taken ill. With things going the way they are – funds depleting, the pressures of following Jesus in an environment that can be hostile, with family and authorities and business pressures all taking their toll, it was almost too much to bear when I learned Epaphroditus had become sick. We sent him to you with the best intentions, hoping to support you and your mission, and Epaphroditus himself was so eager to go and help you in any way he could. But sometimes I wonder – did we do the right thing when we sent him along? If this sickness ends in death, will I have that forever on my conscience?
There have even been some people who come to visit our gatherings here in Philippi. They proclaim the name of Jesus, yes, but they turn around and speak against you. They question why we would keep sending you support. Some have even said that we are throwing our money into a pit when we give it to you, since you have ended up in prison (again). I told the person who said that to tone it down, or I would not permit him to speak at my gathering again, but some people have been convinced by this message. It has come up on more than one occasion if we shouldn’t be cautious about sending you more support. Some have said even worse things – like you weren’t even the best representative of the gospel out there, and perhaps we should shift our support to others who come and preach to us – the ones who can manage to stay out of prison. They use your chains as evidence of your character flaws and tell us that we are absurd to not only associate with you, but also to send you money and support.
I don’t write this to discourage you, Paul. I’m sure you’ve heard these things – and much worse – in the course of your ministry. Yes, one or two here in Philippi could be convinced to put our money elsewhere, but we as a community remain committed to our support for you. I just wanted you to be aware of the things that are going on in our gatherings.
Being a follower of the Way is my greatest joy. I do nothing except boast that you are our partner, and my good friend, who gave us all so much when you came in the name of Jesus. However, I notice that at the same time, socially, in our families, even in the world of business, people ascribe shame to us. And I have to say that when the bad days begin to outnumber the good days, or when the hits just keep coming, I sometimes get discouraged. I’m spent more time feeling uncertain, even confused lately. I think my faith is strong, but my spirit is flagging.
I am sorry if you feel I’m unloading on you, Paul. What’s more, I know that you have so many worries and concerns that are all your own, and you likely don’t need to hear about my own pet anxieties. But you did urge me to write to you often, and to tell you the truth of what was going on when I did so – so I am simply following your instructions. What’s more, I think that if anyone might understand the concerns that I have, it would be you.
Please know that you are in our prayers, as is Epaphroditus. We ask that you would keep us in your prayers as well. Sometimes the world just feels…unsteady.
Grace and peace to you,
Lydia
