Women in white raiment

by John Lemley

This place without the city wall was not a solitary locality, secluded and retired from the endless confusion of city streets, but, on the contrary, it was a market place, especially set apart for the mountain clans of the Pangæus and Hæmus ranges, who came down with their pack animals to trade. No doubt this stream had its fountains high up among the Hæmus hills, and with great force came rushing down the mountain, and spreading out in the plain, gave a plentiful supply to man and beast. It flowed down through the market place; it was within reach of every child’s pitcher; it was enough for every empty vessel. The small birds came down thither to drink; the sheep and lambs had trodden down a little path to its brink. The thirsty beasts of burden, along the dusty road, knew the way to the stream, with its soft, sweet murmur of fullness and freedom. The clear, sparkling river must have reminded the Apostles of the waters of life and salvation, which they were bringing to these Philippians. This stream sometimes may cease to flow, and every other may be dry in the days of drought and adversity, but the heavenly stream whose spring was in Jesus Christ, they well knew, would never cease to flow. And they also well knew that whosoever drank from the river issuing from under the threshold of divine grace, should never thirst.

Amid these surroundings, Paul and his companions sat down in the proseuchæ, “and spake unto the women” who had already assembled in the place of prayer. It would seem that there were no Hebrew men in Philippi, and possibly, for the reason this city was a military, and not a mercantile centre. Even the women may have been few in number, so that the speaker could not deliver a formal address, but only engage in familiar conversation, which could be easier done in a sitting posture, and in a comparatively free and conversational intercourse, thus assuming at once the attitude of teachers.

The gracious words which fell from the lips of Paul in this first attempt to introduce the gospel into Macedonia, are not reported by Luke, but he tells us that the Lord opened the heart of a woman named Lydia. There is something very beautiful in this incident, that God should honor woman with being the first convert in Europe! It was a man who stood before Paul in his vision, praying, “Come over into Macedonia and help us,” but it is a woman who is first willing to be helped. There was, that Sabbath morning, in the proseuchæ, by the rippling waters of the Anghista, one solitary woman who was in a special degree, open to the influence of the truth, and who listened with earnest attention to all that Paul said.

Luke tells us that Lydia was a dealer in purple, and a citizen of Thyatira, Asia Minor, and, as Thyatira was a Macedonian colony, we may the more readily understand that circumstances connected with her trade brought her at this time to Philippi, and was probably only a temporary resident. Thyatira was celebrated, at a very early period, for its purple dyes and purple fabrics. The purple color, so extravagantly valued by the ancients, and even by the Orientals at the present day, included many shades or tints, from rose-red to sea-green or blue. Philippi being the military centre of Macedonia, the military trappings, with all their tinsel and show, made a brisk market for the purple cloth of Lydia, and, no doubt, she was a woman who prospered in her business, and was in good circumstances, and, possibly, possessed of considerable wealth, as she generously offered her home and hospitality to Paul and his companions.

But now see how the words and acts of this noble woman demonstrates the genuineness of her faith. She at once, with her household, presents herself for baptism. While it is quite probable that the baptism was not performed on the spot, it took place, no doubt, at the first opportunity. Having become a member of the household of faith, she addresses the Apostles saying, “If ye have judged me to be faithful,” that is, judged that I am one that believeth in the Lord, “come into my house, and abide there.” What gentleness in her language, “If ye have judged me faithful,” humbly submitting to the experienced judgment of her religious benefactors, yet urgently inviting the Apostle and all his companions to enter her house, and remain there as her guests. This proffered hospitality furnished direct evidence of her love to her Redeemer, which proceeded from faith, and which manifested itself by disinterested and kind attentions to His messengers. She supported her plea by appealing to the judgment which they had themselves pronounced in her case, and without which they would unquestionably have declined to baptize her.

That these messengers of the gospel acceded to the request of Lydia, and entered her house as guests, may be confidently assumed. We also see with what beautiful fidelity she remained true to Paul and Silas when they were persecuted.

It is also interesting to notice that through Lydia, indirectly, the gospel may have been introduced into that very section (Bithynia), where Paul had been forbidden directly to preach it. Whether she was one of “those women” who labored with Paul in the gospel at Philippi, as mentioned afterwards in the Epistle to that place (Phil. iv, 3) it is impossible to say, but from what we know of her history, it would be just like her, for, surely such a royal entertainer in true hospitality, would make a heroic laborer in any gospel field.

We may learn from Lydia’s life that the human heart is closed and barred by sin, so that divine truth can not enter to enlighten the mind, direct the will, or renew the spiritual life forces until divine grace, through operations of the Holy Spirit, opens the heart. When the Lord opens the heart, conversion is possible, but it is actually effected only when the heart, like the prepared field, with willingness receives the seed of divine truth. God calls, and if but few are chosen, it is simply because men choose not to obey the call. The Lord opens only the hearts of those for His spiritual kingdom who are willing to and do accept His conditions.

In the conversion of Lydia we see the Kingdom of Christ in its incipient state strikingly illustrated. In the parable of the grain of mustard-seed, Jesus told his disciples that the gospel in its beginning would be just like that smallest of seeds, but would grow and spread, and finally succeed. Lydia is only one convert, a lone woman in a great military camp of a heathen city, and women, socially, in those days, did not count for much. Humanly speaking, this first European convert appeared about as insignificant as a grain of mustard-seed. And yet this apparently insignificant seed produced a rich and precious harvest in the flourishing congregation of Philippi, in the spread of the gospel over all Europe, and it will soon cover the whole world.

From Lydia’s candid reception of the gospel, her urgent hospitality, her unfaltering and continued friendship to the Apostles, her modest bearing in being accounted worthy of the confidence of her benefactors, we are led to form a high estimate of her character. Though possessed of considerable wealth, and, possibly, of social rank, she had the grace of humility. Her deep humility in the presence of God’s messengers was a clear and sufficient proof of her humility before God, and that it was real; that humility, if not already a resident in her heart, had, with the incoming of divine grace, taken up its abode in her, and become her very nature; that she actually, like Christ, made herself of no reputation, especially when persecution came to Paul and Silas.