Acts 16

The Wizard of Oz is a queer cultural iconic film, so much so that the phrase ‘friends of Dorothy’ has been popularised to signify members of the LGBTQ+ community. The film is extravagant, bold, colourful and narrates the transformation of characters through their relationships. To me, there’s something very camp that screams ‘yellow brick road’ in the opening to Acts 16, as Paul and Silas embark on their journey.

Chapter 16 of Acts describes numerous encounters with various characters that give them signs and shape their mission. Paul and Silas meet Timothy, Lydia, the enslaved woman and the jailor. The themes of identity and community become key motifs in the descriptions of the early church, and these are especially amplified through the marginalised characters depicted in the events that unfold. Understood by scholars as a continuation of Luke’s gospel, Acts allows LGBTQ+ readers of faith to draw parallels with the complexities of gender, sexuality, power dynamics and social structures with their lived realities and social contexts today.  In turn, these become fuel for action, activity and activism.

There’s something quite playful about reading the biblical text alongside cultural products, such as films, music and adverts. The popularity of the Bible has translated into many cultural items, this includes how there is a lasting imprint of biblical motifs in the media and consumer worlds we inhabit. In a simple example: just look at the bitten apple logo on your iPhone or iPad and see just how the earliest story of Eve’s temptation of Adam becomes a merchandising money maker.

Similarly, the parallels with the friends of Dorothy are easy to draw.[1] The first encounter is with Timothy, the son of a Jewish woman who was a believer and a Greek father. Paul has Timothy circumcised, not as a requisite for salvation but as a means to avoid any obstacles in his ministry. Timothy has the Glinda ‘good witch’ vibe about him, as he sets the tone to begin the journey on the yellow brick road surrounded by the strength of people in high numbers.

Second, they meet Lydia, the businesswoman from Thyatira, who, like the Scarecrow, seeks wisdom and understanding as she embraces a new faith. Lydia is described as a “seller of purple goods”, and it does not take a finely tuned gaydar to connect her purple goods with lavender, a colour associated with the lesbian feminist activism and movement of the 1960s gay rights movements. The 7th Century BCE poet Sappho expressed her attraction to younger women wearing violet tiaras. Previously, having a scent of lavender was a euphemism for same-sex desire.

It is significant that Lydia runs her own business and household, which becomes a place of retreat at the end of the chapter. In ancient societies, gender roles were hierarchical: patriarchy triumphed and privilege reigned for men. Many women in the biblical texts are not even named – they are referred to by their relationship to others or another description of them, for example, the daughter of Jephthah (Judges 11), Potiphar’s wife (Genesis 39), the haemorrhaging women (Luke 8).  Here, then, Lydia is both named and depicted as a woman of agency, autonomy and influence. Her role challenges conventional gender norms of the time, as she operates independently in the commercial sphere — a realm typically dominated by men. Transgressions of social norms are central to Lydia’s character. Biblical scholar Tim Koch notes that the location of this scene is in proximity to the Greek island of Lesbos, as he asks ‘If this doesn’t at least suggest (let alone scream) “dyke”, what does?!’. [2] Accordingly, Lydia’s character offers much to a lesbian-identified reader.

Paul and Silas’s second encounter is with an enslaved girl who is a fortune teller. She is described as possessed by a spirit, and exploited by her owners to profit from her abilities.  The girl recognises the men as carriers of the good news, and boldly announces, ‘These men are slaves of the Most High God, who proclaim to you a way of salvation’. In this case, is it too simplistic to seek her as a character similar to the Tin Man, trapped in a state of emotional and spiritual bondage, until Paul takes it upon himself to liberate the described demon?

It is striking that we have encounters with two women in quick succession, both of whom are committed to their faith and publicly expressive of their beliefs, despite the societal expectations. These encounters depict the formation of relationships and the community of the early church, nourished through strength in solidarity against oppression. More importantly, it speaks back to the role of women in developing, sustaining and nourishing early disciplehood. A history that has likely since been largely erased by theological traditions and men’s pens.

The quick wins of endurance and triumph on the journey are further continued, as the author of Acts presents another hardship to show the test and victory of the faith of Paul and Silas. After casting out the spirit from the enslaved girl, they are taken by her enslavers to the magistrates, stripped and beaten before being imprisoned for disturbing the city. Their feet are fastened in stocks. While in jail, in this moment of adversity, they show resilience and courage, praying and singing hymns, ministering to other prisoners.

The climax of Acts 16 occurs when an earthquake shakes the foundations of the prison, an event not dissimilar to the moment Dorothy’s house lands in Oz through the tornado. The earthquake causes the doors to open and the prisoners’ chains to fall off. The jailor is fearful and contemplates taking his own life, until Paul reassures him. Initially hardened by his role as a prison guard, the jailor undergoes a transformation akin to that of the Cowardly Lion, finding courage and redemption through his encounter with the divine. This miraculous event leads to the conversion of the jailor, who witnesses the power of God and becomes a believer.

Acts 16 offers a narrative of liberation and empowerment, much like The Wizard of Oz. It invites readers to embark on a spiritual journey, where the yellow brick road becomes a metaphor for the path to self-discovery, service to others, the development of community, and promises of encounters with the divine. Just as Dorothy finds her way back to Kansas, Paul and Silas lead others toward the promise of freedom and new life in Christ. The parallels of how marginalised communities are sustained, supported and nourished by their members is a reminder to LGBTQ+ believers today as they continue to struggle for acceptance and recognition in mainstream religious traditions.

A queer reading of Acts 16 reveals illuminative insights into the complexities of identity, liberation, and community in the early Christian context. While we can’t determine with any accuracy the sexual or gender identities of any biblical character, we equally cannot assume them to be straight. In order to resisit this straight-jacket, the task of reading ancient texts with contemporary eyes often throws up some surprising, yet relatable characters and stories for LGBTQ+ readers of faith. Through the stories of Timothy, Lydia, the enslaved girl, and the jailor, we are able to read in themes of gender fluidity, subversion of expectations, resistance to oppression, and the transformative power of solidarity. Acts 16 challenges us to imagine a world where all are free to embrace our authentic selves and participate fully in the ongoing work of liberation and justice.


[1] Sean D.  Burke writes about Acts as the ‘pulling back of the curtain’ when Toto reveals the smokes and mirrors that is the Wizard in The Queer Bible Commentary, Second Edition (2022, SCM Press), p.585.

[2] Koch, Timothy (2001, 19) ‘Cruising as Methodology: Homoeroticism and the Scriptures’, Theology & Sexuality,  pp.10—22.


Chris Greenough is Reader in Social Sciences and his research explores the intersections between gender, sexuality and religion, especially in queer theory and queer studies. He has published two monographs in this area: Undoing Theology (2018, SCM Press) and Queer Theologies: The Basics (2019, Routledge). As co-director of The Shiloh Project, Chris also has research interests in the role of the Bible and religion in relation to rape culture and gender-based violence. Chris’s third monograph reflects this interest, The Bible and Sexual Violence Against Men (2020, Routledge). Chris has published book chapters and journal articles on religion, gender and sexualities; as well as the use, function and impact of the Bible in the contemporary world.

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