Acts 16:9-15; Psalm 67:2; John 14:23-29

In our story from the Christian Traditions this morning we read how Paul heard God speak in the visionary voice of a man of Macedonia, leading Paul to change his direction and go there instead of elsewhere to proclaim the gospel. Paul headed straight for the capital city, Philippi, by as direct a route as he could find:  Samothrace is a mountainous island and so a bit of a navigational landmark, and Neapolis is the coastal part and maybe the port town for Philippi. It does look like he’s in a hurry (and wouldn’t you be if God had called you with such a demonstration) and he has no interest in side-tracks or delays. And once Paul and his crew get to Philippi they do nothing until Shabbat when they leave town and find a quiet place to pray, probably to ask something like “righto God, we’re here, now what?”

Paul is not necessarily shunning the synagogue, there probably isn’t one in Philippi, so he goes where the Jews go. This is beside the river, and it is there that the crew meets Lydia of Thyatira. So, who is Lydia? Well, she is Greek, (her name tells us that), and she’s from Thyatira in the district of Lydia which is later named as host town for one of the seven churches of Revelation. We know therefore that Lydia is neither Jewish nor Judean, but we are told that she honours God as revealed within Judaism, and one of the Greek words used to describe her is used elsewhere in Acts to describe people who are “devout”; we can join the dots there. Anyway, Lydia receives the missionary’s baptism and she invites Paul’s group into her home.

This is a sort of Paul-version of the conversion of Cornelius under Peter’s  tutelage from Acts 10. Cornelius is a Roman commander stationed at Caesarea, the Roman capital of Judea and where Pilate and his mates lived most of the time. Similarly, Philippi is a military town, however it is a veterans’ colony, a soldier settler place. Lydia is a trader who sells upmarket clothing, probably just the thing for Mrs Centurion in her husband’s retirement, so she’s a great social contact for Paul in Philippi. But, even more important than her entre to “farshion” and society, the fact that Paul takes her up on her offer of hospitality demonstrates that he accepts her as a sister-in-Christ. She’s a Christian, and many would say she’s the first European convert.

So that’s all pretty good then. Lydia accepts Christ, Paul accepts Lydia, and the gospel and its missionaries have an opened door to European soil via a respectable city of good, middle-class retirees with disposable income. But none of that would have been the situation if Paul had hushed the Spirit and pushed into Roman Asia or Bithynia. I wonder, has God ever closed a door on you like that? Has God ever closed several doors in a row? Twice the Spirit resisted Paul’s attempts to change state, until God spoke to Paul in this vision and gave him the direction God wanted Paul to go. Sometimes we hear no (and need to hear no) before we hear go, or yes. Do you know how to “Praise God in the Hallway” as some would have it? Can you walk forward until God opens an eventual door? How far, or for how long, can you walk that dark corridor of locked doors until you tell God you’ve had enough and you decide to kick one in just to reach the sunlight?

The compositor suggests in Psalm 67:2 that one of the observable signs of God’s blessing is when God’s way is made known; in other words you know God loves you when God actively directs you. This is good to remember, especially when all God seems to be saying to you is “no, not there,” or “no, not yet,” and it’s never “yes” or “here”. It is also good to know following what I said last week at the election of church council that we were not appointing a committee but recognising God’s anointing of prophets among us, to discern God’s Word and will on behalf of the congregation, and to support me is setting our direction as a local church in a local setting. We want to do what God wants done in Stawell, not what we want to do in Stawell and hope that God allows it, don’t we? Will or next season be about God’s command, or will it be about our demand and God’s permission? Sometimes, from experience, I wonder what is worse; when God is always saying “no”, or when God isn’t saying anything at all? Our Elders need to listen on our behalf, which is why we recognised the seven God chose for Godself and we’re not all trying to do it. Experience prefers God’s silence, because at least when God is silent you can sit down in good conscience and wait for instruction. When God is saying “no” and you’re not even allowed to sit down, so you’re bobbing up and down like a child anticipating the paused soundtrack in a game musical chairs, you look and feel like an idiot. As a preacher I’m supposed to tell you that the clear voice of God is always preferable to the complete silence of God, as a Christian of some life experience I will tell you that that is not true.  But, the psalmist is correct, if God is talking to you and showing an interest in your way then you know that God is interested in you for you, and that is good. It worked out well for Paul, and for Lydia because Paul was faithful: it has and always did work out well for me too, but theological hindsight can be a bit arrogant too. Waiting is hard, but it’s worth it, and last week we recognised those God has chosen from amongst us to wait for God on behalf of us all.

In today’s story from the Jesus Traditions, drawn from John 14:23-29 and Jesus’ last meal with his mates, we get to earwig in on Jesus saying much the same thing. If you love me, he says, then you’ll do what I ask: not because I’m a diva on the edge of a massive sulk, but because I’m speaking the words The Father has given me, and God’s words are good stuff. This is how Jesus reveals God specifically to the Church and not to the world at large; to this degree the message is hidden. In this situation Jesus is speaking to his mates, the twelve around the table, and through the gospel as a book Jesus is speaking to the Church, the ones who already love Jesus and only to them. The world will not do as Jesus commands, they don’t love him and they don’t know him; so why should we expect them to obey someone they don’t know or love? Who is God to tell them what to do, God is a stranger to them; but God is not a stranger to us, just as God was not a stranger to Paul nor to Lydia, just as Jesus was not a stranger to any of the twelve. Jesus is lord to us and friend; how does Jesus know this, well just as the psalmist said, because we listen to the One who speaks to us and we do what God tell us. When we do that, and don’t do what God tells us not to do (or do what God has not told us to do), when we do what God tells us to do then God can act through our doing and great stuff, God stuff, gets done.

Well that sounds good doesn’t it? Do what God tells you to do, because if you know you’re being directed by someone whose love for you is wider than the cross, then you are confident that you won’t be told to do something dangerous or stupid. God will work in your doing, and great things will happen like the coming of the gospel to the continent of Europe: glory to God, kudos to Paul. I mean, who wouldn’t want to be part of what God is doing in the world? Does anyone here not want to be involved when God starts doing stuff in Stawell and the Northern Grampians? When I call for volunteers on God’s behalf is there anyone who’d rather keep his or her hand down? Yeah, didn’t think so, so we’re all agreed: God, come and tell us what to do.

And what if God did come and tell us what to do, and God said…“wait, just sit.”

And what if God did come and tell us what to do, and God said…“not now.”

And what if God did come and tell us what to do, and God said…“not there.”

And what if God did come and tell us what to do, and God said…“no, not there either…or there.”

You have heard before about places where it can be hard to be a Christian, but where the hardest of Christians live as a response. Not like us sulky flabby Christians in Australia, people like you and me who need to HTFU, harden the faith up; but proper Christians who deal with persecution and violence and who face a choice between Christ and death, or denial and release. This is inspiring stuff, and I pray that you are continue to contend in prayer for Ukraine and Gaza, but also North Korea and Afghanistan. This kind of horror can hold some fantasy about it, and God might call you not to Macedonia but to The Maldives, or Medina, or Mordor, or Moyston. Martyrdom and heroism, what a calling!  But to be honest, all of us in this room will probably be called to stay if not in this room then at least in this district, where the Taliban and Al Qaeda are absent, and God will call you “not there, not yet, not now,” blah de blah.  What do we do with that?

Well, we do what Jesus commands via John 14:26, we wait for the Advocate and we lean on God. Just because the instruction to go is not coming yet does not mean that God is absent: Holy Spirit is here, now just as much as Holy Spirit will be with us there, later. You don’t have to wait for God without God, wait for God with God. An interesting piece of Christian language is that we “wait on God”. Think for a sec about “on”: do we wait on God as if God is a chair or a mat, or a playful Daddy lying on the floor with his toddler sitting on his chest? Can we wait “on” God while we wait “for” God?  Meh, why not, that can work, can’t it? Or do we wait on God as if God is a patron and we are wait staff, waitresses and waiters, maybe barista if we’re hip enough: while God is sitting and waiting, and causing us to not go there and not go now, maybe we can serve God where we are. Okay God is not in a cafe, but have some imagination in your prayer and worship, what would it look like to “waiter on God”.

In two weeks’ time we will have reached the end of the Christian season of Easter, and the Feast of Pentecost will be upon us. I’ll be in red, you’re welcome to join in, and we’ll talk about fire and wind and power and spirit and language and it will be awesome. But do we have to wait another fortnight for awesome? Do we have to wait only another fortnight for awesome? What if we wait a fortnight and the only awesome thing is my red shirt, and it’s an otherwise “Sunday in Stawell”. These are not rhetorical questions, I want you to answer them, but not now and not here.

Two weeks after Pentecost we will enter the Christian season of Creationtide, and I’ll be in green until the last Sunday before Advent. That period in Christian thinking is about growth and newness, so yes there is some waiting involved but as those of you who know a farmer should know, if you just wait for growth and do nothing then nothing will grow. I have asked our new  Church Council to ask God what God is saying to Stawell, and what God is saying to St Matthew’s Uniting Church. I invite you to join us. Ask God the questions “ God, what do you want from us, and what do you want for us”. Ask “what do you want for our towns, Lord”: what is God saying to Stawell?

Maybe there’s another Paul somewhere who tonight will see a vision of a “Man of Grampians” begging him to come. Maybe there’s a man or woman in Stawell who tonight will see a vision of a “Man from Mariupol”, or “MacPherson Smith”. Whether we are Paul or Lydia in the coming story. Let’s be ready.

Amen.