Sermon: monologue by Lydia, the merchant of purple cloth

This is the sermon I preached this morning. It's based on the Passion narrative from Matthew (26:36 - 27:66) and Philippians 5:2-11. We used to sing the passage from Philippians as a canticle at Seabury -- in a beautiful chant setting based on a Greek Orthodox tone. I wanted to share the beauty of those words, which biblical scholars think was an early Christian hymn, and make real what the life and death of Jesus could mean to someone.

Though in the form of God, *

Christ Jesus did not cling to equality with God,

But emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, *

and was born in human likeness.

Being found in human form, he humbled himself *

and became obedient to death, even death on a cross.

Therefore, God has highly exalted him *

and given him the name above every name,

That at the name of Jesus, every knee shall bow, *

in heaven and on earth and under the earth,

And every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, *

to the glory of God the Father.

I did a word search for "Philippi" in the New Testament (Philippi was a city in Macedonia. Paul wrote a letter to the Christian community there that we now call "The Letter to the Philippians," or "Philippians," for short). And I stumbled back across the story of Lydia, in Acts 16, and discovered that she was converted at Philippi. That's how this monologue got started. It was fun -- I never thought I'd do something like this, but it was very powerful, and my parish was very moved by it. Although I think my singing suffered somewhat from the fact that my knees were shaking quite a bit.


(humming)
My name is Lydia. You may have heard of me.
I’m a merchant -- I sell purple cloth, most people in Macedonia have heard of me.
I’m a pretty important woman, but I didn’t know what life was about
until I met this bandy-legged man named Paul in Philippi.
He taught me, my children, and my slaves this hymn, when we were baptized in the river there:

(singing)
Though in the form of God, *
Christ Jesus did not cling to equality with God,

I was in Philippi on business –
I always sell a lot there, it’s a big town along the Roman Road, the Via Egnatia.
And he was talking to a bunch of women along the river. I thought, who is this ugly guy talking to all these women? Who does he think he is??? Some crazy teacher, I thought.
But then I saw his eyes, his face, and there was something about him.
He was a terrible dresser, and he had a unibrow, but I wanted to hear what he had to say.
And that’s when I first heard about the life and death of the man Jesus.

Now, I travel a lot, I’ve seen my share of messiahs (there are a lot of them around these days): teachers, magicians, and miracle workers, and if you’ve heard one you’ve heard them all.
But there was something different about Paul, something different about Jesus.
There was no flashiness, I didn’t feel like he was trying to sell me something.
He was just describing a way of life, not a bunch of magical mumbo jumbo,
...of living by faith and grace of loving my neighbors,
of seeing all people as my equals,
of sitting down around God’s table together, sharing the Eucharist of Jesus –
Jesus’ thanksgiving, as we would say in Greek, sitting together:
as men and women, Jews and Greeks, rich and poor, free people and slaves.

(singing)
But emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, *
and was born in human likeness.

In this man, everything about myself was transformed: all my ambitions for my work, my status as a woman, as a free Greek, but still as a woman, it was all transformed.
Those things weren’t taken away, they weren’t erased!
I mean, the men at the other market stalls didn’t stop making comments about me.
But I felt different. I saw God and human beings differently.
God came down to live like one of us.
And God died like one of us.

But he didn’t die a glorious death, like my brother, who died as a soldier in the northern territories.
And he didn’t die a quiet death at home, like my mother, sick and in bed.
There was something different about him.
He was taken by the police like prisoner, like a terrorist, like a barbarian!
(I guess they thought what he had to say was that dangerous.)

(singing)
Being found in human form, he humbled himself *
and became obedient to death, even death on a cross.
Therefore, God has highly exalted him *
and given him the name above every name,

Now what would a wealthy woman like me be doing singing about a poor Jewish rabbi off in the western territories?
All I know is that he spoke to me,
All I know is that the stories Paul told us about him,
how he fed people, how he taught anyone who came to him,
how he made sure people knew that God loved them, no matter who they were –
I mean, lepers, prostitutes, children, women, Roman soldiers, and my least favorite, to be honest with you – even the tax collectors!
He changed my life.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still a cloth merchant. I’m still rich!
Everyone still knows who I am.
But they know something else about me, too.
I break bread with tax collectors and Jews.
I give away my money to buy food for the hungry.
I try to pray and I try to live honestly.
People in Macedonia know that I, Lydia, am a Christian.

My life isn’t just about purple cloth anymore.

(singing)
That at the name of Jesus, every knee shall bow, *
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,

I live my life after a man who lived and died to show that all people are worth something.
Even though the life of the man Jesus appeared to be worth nothing – he was betrayed by his friends. he was sentenced to death in a court of law. he died among criminals.
he was buried in a tomb someone like me had to donate, because he had nothing.
He chose to go to the very darkest places humans can go.

And he is the most powerful teacher I know.
I believe, truly, this man was the Son of God.

(singing)
And every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, *
to the glory of God the Father.