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The Letter to the Philippians gives us a glimpse into an incredible
and fascinating relationship between an aging missionary church planter and
the small band of strong-hearted and dedicated believers who have been supporting
him throughout his ministry. It provides perhaps more of a glimpse than any
other book into the heart and soul of what the Body of Christ is called out
to be.
Paul’s tone in this letter is different from many of his
others; it’s more Paul the partner and colleague, Paul the teammate than
it is Paul the pastor or teacher. He is writing a word of encouragement and
hope to his distant friends. This is not a letter of doctrinal exposition
or theological clarification; he is not correcting a relational dispute (although
one is implied) or calling a community back to its moorings. He’s writing
to say thank you!
The verses for this sermon are the opening prayer to the letter.
This follows the form of letters of the time: an introduction of the author
(note the plural source—he and Timothy), a declaration of the intended
audience, a welcoming sentence (“Grace to you . . .) and an opening prayer
or thanksgiving. The prayers of Paul are always significant. He never wastes
the moment simply for the sake of protocol. His prayers are declarations of
his desires and hopes for the flocks God has given him. Growing in the love
and knowledge of God are common themes in many of his prayers, including this
one.
The opening lines set this prayer apart. Paul is succinct: “I
thank God because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until
now (1:4-5).” You can almost feel the gratitude and passion welling up
in Paul’s heart as he pens these words, deeply grateful and longing for
the companionship and the fellowship of a group of people that have been so
faithful and dedicated to his ministry for so long.
In some respects Paul is writing as one equal to another. His
letter begins with an acknowledgement of the vital role they have played in
partnering with him for the spread of the gospel. This is a mark of maturity
in this body. There is an outward focus that compels them to stand alongside
of Paul in many ways. This letter is somewhat unique among Paul’s writings
in that it is addressed to a healthy church as a general encouragement rather
than as a theological corrective (Galatians). Paul’s letter to the Ephesians
is similar in this respect. Interestingly enough, Paul himself implies that
this letter was not the first one he had written to them (reasonable enough
in its own right): “it is no trouble for me to write these same things
to you again. (3:1)”
It’s the background of this relationship that makes these
opening lines come to life. In fact, the context of Paul’s life and ministry
is highly important to this whole letter. It’s vital to try to climb
inside of this great apostle’s mind and see his world the way he did.
Only then can we hope to understand the motivations behind his words and thoughts.
The nature of this unique community called the Philippian church
is important. Acts 16 recounts Paul’s vision at a time when he and his
companions faced uncertainty about where their mission would next take them.
The “Macedonian call” leads Paul, Silas, Timothy, and Luke, off
into this new, foreign Gentile country. There they would plant the church
in Philippi, the first church in ancient Europe.
It all begins with a women’s prayer group at the edge of
the river. Jewish law required ten males for the organization of a synagogue.
In its absence, the custom was for people to gather at the edge of a nearby
river for prayer. In a city primarily made up of Roman colonists and retired
military personnel, there were apparently too few Jews for a synagogue. Paul’s
custom had been to enter a new city, find the synagogue, and then begin preaching
there to those who were already seeking the God of ancient Israel. In Philippi,
as there was no synagogue, Paul goes to the next place to look, the river,
and there he finds Lydia and the others, mostly women. The church is further
expanded when the Philippian jailer and his whole family are added to the
young church as a result of the midnight earthquake.
The growth and beginnings of this young church were indeed special
to Paul and his friends. Over the years that followed, the Philippian church
was one of his strongest supporters, sending him financial assistance on at
least three occasions that we know of. During his frequent trips through Asia
Minor and Greece, Paul made several trips back to Philippi, spending at least
one Easter celebration with them (Acts 20).
The letter of Philippians comes to them toward the end of Paul’s
life as he is in Rome awaiting trial before Caesar. It is the letter of close
friends and intimates who have shared many passions and obstacles together.
Paul, waiting under house arrest, writes to encourage and thank this flock
that had supported him all these years. Paul’s concern for the community
is starkly evident through his thankfulness and his encouragement, his assurances
about his own work and theirs, and through his pleas for their unity and shared
spirit that is so definitive of the koinonia fellowship that marks Paul’s
pastoral leadership.
Paul is forward-looking here, too. He knows all too well the
difficulty of the life of suffering and uncertain waiting. This little church
out in the middle of the Roman Empire on a busy cosmopolitan highway experienced
it as well. Paul was their leader, their pastor, and their friend. Much of
their identity as lights in the dark world of Roman paganism and syncretism
was tied up in their relationship with Paul. After years of ministry and laboring
together, Paul, thousands of miles distant, writing with a Roman sentry standing
guard over his shoulder, makes the ultimate statement of confidence regarding
the future of their community and his ministry: “he who began a good
work in you will bring it to completion (v. 6)” This, too, is his prayer—when
he thinks of his friends and partners, two things come to mind: a) his ministry
and theirs is made possible by their friendship, and b) the end is as certain
for them all as the beginning was. None of this effort and suffering and work
will be for naught; the best days are yet to come!
Philippians is intensely personal, deeply passionate, and full
of human realism and holy optimism. There are the deeply human themes of suffering
and patience, ambition and attitude, faith and actions, the world-that-is
and the world-that-is-to come. It is known as the “letter of joy”.
The word “joy” occurs more than a dozen times in four short chapters.
The theme of unity is interwoven with joy throughout the book as well, making
a strong statement about the interconnectedness of these two ideas. Joy in
the body is enabled by true unity; unity in the body is strengthened by shared
joy. This hand-in-hand embrace of joy and unity hold out the challenge to
any community of believers to live life with proper ambition—wanting
the right things—and holy attitudes—loving the right way.
The church at Philippi had a relationship with Paul that was
characterized by these ideals. Paul is recognizing them for their commitments,
affirming their goodness, encouraging them to continue their efforts, exhorting
them to strengthen a weakness, and, most of all, celebrating the longtime
companionship of a group of people he cherished with whom he had walked deeper
and deeper into the Christian life. In the verses for this sermon, this is
the underlying reality that gives rich meaning to Paul’s words.
This sermon series begins the Easter season when the Church
celebrates the work that was started with the rising of the Easter morning
sun (or Son) and looks ahead to the coming of the Spirit on the day of Pentecost.
This time, both in the 50 days leading up to Pentecost in the book of Acts,
and in the celebrations of the Christian church ever since, can be categorized
with words such as “anticipation”, “looking forward”,
or “hopeful waiting”. In the pre-Pentecost events, we’re not
told a great deal about the time between the resurrection of Christ and the
coming of the Spirit but we can imagine: did the waiting seem to go on forever?
Did those waiting for the coming promise lose hope? Did it seem to them like
it would never come? John 21 gives us at least one glimpse into the tension
and uncertainty of those early days.
Those fifty days were the “In-between” time; the time in between
the promise and its fulfillment. We are the recipients of Pentecost but we
too live in an in-between world. If Easter was the promise to Pentecost’s
fulfillment, Pentecost is the promise to the fulfillment of God’s eternal
kingdom, the ultimate fulfillment for which we all still wait. It is the world
of the “now-but-not yet”.
The first century Christians lived in a time of intense expectation
of the soon coming of Jesus in his divine glory. This expectation waned as
year after year passed with no triumphant return of the Messiah. The struggles
got harder, the persecutions greater, the battles tougher. Was this really
the post-Pentecost world?
This was the world of Paul and the Philippians. They were party
to incredible movements of the Spirit across Asia and Europe, the church grew
at an incredible rate and the gospel could not be contained. But for every
success, the price grew greater. Persecution quickly became the bedfellow
of evangelism and those embracing the mission knew full well what lay ahead.
It is also our world. Christ has come and ascended back to His
Father. The Paraclete has come in a mighty rushing wind and is actively at
work even now proclaiming the day and preparing the way for the heavenly kingdom.
But we are constantly aware of the world that is—a world that is anything
but hopeful and perfect and good. This is where we live, waiting, expecting,
wondering when all of the work and effort will be made worthwhile. The 21st
Century saw more bloodshed and Christian persecution than all of the previous
20 centuries combined. Globalization is blurring the boundaries and connecting
the cultures of the globe more intensely and rapidly than ever before in history.
Religious pluralism is the spiritual fashion du jour; rampant secularism and
materialism are sweeping continents in both oceans.
Paul’s letter to his church family in Philippi, his prayer
of thanks and blessing for them, in particular, are instructive to us as to
how we live in this in-between time. For the community living in the chaotic
landscape of the pre-Christian world (a label that is being used to describe
both the 1st and 21st Centuries) the question is vitally important: how do
we endure, thrive, and overcome in (and certainly minister to) such a world
while maintaining our passionate anticipation of the world that will someday
be? The answer is at the heart of Paul’s prayer in Philippians 1.
The promise of God through his word is to be at the center of
the community that seeks him and to transform that community into his image.
The church is called to be the bride (partner, companion, loved ones, protected
ones, cared-for ones) of God in the world. Simply surviving and squeaking
by is not enough for God’s chosen people. There is a great victory possible
over all circumstances and chaos in life. God never promised to remove us
from the difficult places, but his love and spirit transform those difficult
places into great oases of joy and fruitfulness. This is what Paul has experienced
in his own life and ministry. This is the weight of truth that is behind him
as he sits down and pens these words. With the faces of his beloved friends
in his mind, he thinks dearly of them, aches with loneliness for them, and
wants to offer the very deepest and best he knows. So he begins to write:
“that your love may abound more and more.”
God’s answer to the difficult and lonely times In-Between
is the shared love of God among the people in the Body that produces holy
character and meaningful activity. Jesus promised us that through the Holy
Spirit we would have the wisdom and power needed to be his witnesses to out
world. The Holy Spirit brings forth the fruit of our faithfulness when we
move together into ministering to that world. Paul’s confidence can be
ours: God is at work! While there are things to be done and hard days ahead,
we are right where He wants us: in the world for Him.
The calling for us as it was for the Philippians is to join
with one another in seeking to know God more and more, asking for a deeper
experience of his love between us. As a body and as individual members of
that body, we can become practitioners of strong and vibrant life-changing
faith in our communities. We can look at one another and challenge one another
to hunger for the things Paul hungered for. We can adopt his heartfelt prayer
for his people as our own for one another. Most of all, we can live as people
of supernatural confidence that God is at work. Our lives and efforts, no
matter how difficult or seemingly empty, will not be in vain.
(For the full manuscript of this sermon
go to www.preachersmagazine.org and click on “Sermons”)
Try to imagine what Paul is feeling and longing for as he pens
these words. Don’t cut right to looking for the theological principle
but through your imagination put yourself in his place. Imagine the climate,
the room, the noises, and the household; hear the sound of the quill scratching
and pausing as he thinks and writes. Let your mind wander across the deep
meaning and value his relationships have for him. Ponder the reason for their
power. Think about the complex and human connections in such relationships:
where do they come from, what holds them together, how are they expressed?
Imagine yourself feeling the same passion and longing: How did
you get to that place? What is it like? What brought it about?
You might think of a time when you were engaged in a life circumstance
(ministry or otherwise) in which your welfare was directly in someone else’s
hands. Did that reality change the way you viewed and related to the other
person? What did it teach you about teamwork, dependence, patience or trust?
You might also find illustrations of men and women from combat
experiences. Very poignant and powerful stories, especially from WW2, abound;
of men fighting for their lives and the subsequent and lifelong bonds that
were formed in the midst of desperate survival. Something emerges more powerful
than death itself.
Finally, recognize that this is always the transcending aim of the gospel: to take the ordinary and imperfect and to transform it into Christlike beauty and wholeness.