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A People of Unquenchable Joy: A Study of The Book of Philippians. His Purpose. Philippians 1:18b-26.

October 07, 2007


David Henderson


 

 

Every time we gather for worship, we are giving voice to our faith. We do that in the hymns that we sing; we do that in the Word that we uphold; we do that in the prayers that we voice. We also do that in the celebration of the sacrament.

 

As we come this morning to celebrate communion, we do so joining hands with brothers and sisters all around the globe. Today is World-wide Communion Sunday and you see that represented by these different types of bread that are traditional to different regions all around the world. So together with our brothers and sisters in Christ, we come to this place of confessing our faith and confessing our hope.

 

Listen to these words from the beginning of Paul’s letter to the Ephesian church that invite us to consider anew the truth that this table proclaims:

 

Praise be to the God and Father of Our Lord, Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ. For he chose us in him before the foundations of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love he predestined us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will—to the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace that he lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding. And he made known to us the mystery of his will according to his good pleasure, which he purposed in Christ, to be put into effect when the times will have reached their fulfillment—to bring all things in heaven and on earth together under one head, even Christ.

 

In him we were also chosen, having been predestined according to the plan of him who works out everything in conformity with the purpose of his will, in order that we, who were the first to hope in Christ, might be for the praise of his glory. And you also were included in Christ when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation. Having believed, you were marked in him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit, who is the deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God’s possession—to the praise of his glory.

 

Every time we celebrate communion we stand between the two most important events in all of human history: the first coming of Jesus and the return of Jesus.

 

We look back to the first coming of Jesus when he laid down his life for us, and the elements at this table represent the breaking of his body and the pouring out of his blood to point us back to his sacrifice in our place so that we could be right with God and be forgiven for our sins.

 

But every time we come to this table we also look ahead into the future when he will return and there will be a banquet laid and a place at the table for each of us who is his follower and there we will enter into that experience in the new creation of enjoying fully the presence of God and the provision of God and the company of the people of God.

 

If you are a follower of Christ, I invite you today to this table and as we come to take the elements in just a moment, I would encourage you as you take the bread to think of that sacrifice. Look back and think of his body broken for you and then as you dip it in the cup and take it, think forward to that moment that will come for us when we will be gathered together with the people of God from all around the globe and from all through time at the great banquet table.

 

On the last night that Jesus spent with his disciples, he took bread and he broke it and he said, “This is my body which is broken for you. Eat this remembering me.”

 

At the end of that same meal, Jesus took the cup and he said, “This is my blood which is poured out for the forgiveness of your sin. Drink this remembering me.”

 

So ministering in Jesus’ name, I now invite you, if you are a follower of Christ, to come to the table. Elders, will you please come forward?

 

And as they come, I want to orient you to what we’ll be doing. We will have stations up here to which you can come forward coming to the center aisle if you would, and also in front of the chapel. We’ll also have a couple of stations in the back of the sanctuary if it’s more convenient for those of you who are seated in the back. Then, if you would come down the center aisles and work your way back to your seats up the sides.

 

So as God leads you, come and confess your faith in Jesus Christ; come and confess you hope in Jesus Christ. Come.

 

[Celebration of Communion]

 

Gracious God, our loving Father, our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ,

Spirit who is alive and moves among us and within us, may we find our life

inside the life you live for us. We pray in Jesus’ name.

Amen.

 

The confession of our faith and the confession of our hope that is expressed through communion leads straight into two prominent and powerful questions that surface from the passage that we are going to be looking at this morning.

 

First, what would happen if you were put on trial for being a follower of Christ? Would there be enough evidence to convict you?

 

And second, what would happen if the penalty for being a follower of Christ were the death penalty? Is it for this life only that you believe, or is it for the next life only that you believe, or is yours a hope and a faith that truly embraces both this life and the next?

 

Those are the issues that are surfaced by the passage of Scripture that we are going to be studying this morning: Philippians chapter 1 verses 18 to 26. And you’ll find that on page 1826 in your pew Bible.

 

Before we come to that passage, though, I’d like to be able to set the context for it so that we can hear it with the fullness of its force and power.

 

Have you ever noticed how abrupt is the ending of the Book of Acts? Read along hearing the story of all these experiences in Paul’s life and suddenly it just stops. You round a corner waiting for the next part of the story or for some dramatic finish and it comes to an end.

 

Well, in many ways the passage that we are going to be studying this morning is directly connected to and even the capstone to the drama that dominates the entire last third of the Book of Acts from chapter 21 to chapter 28.

 

For fifteen years a Jew-turned-Christian named Paul has crisscrossed the Roman Empire ringing the Mediterranean in three great missionary journeys sharing the gospel of Jesus Christ, planting Christian churches wherever he goes, and everywhere he goes God is greatly using this man to advance the kingdom. Paul has nearly completed his third great missionary journey which has now taken him across Asia Minor into Macedonia through Greece and now for a quick leg down to Jerusalem before his return home to Antioch to get ready for his fourth great trip at which he plans to go into the far reaches of Europe. And now, suddenly, a plot against him in Jerusalem cuts short his plans for a fourth trip robbing him of nearly half a decade of vital ministry at the prime of his career and it threatens now to rob him of his very life.

 

Here’s how it unfolds. When Paul visits the believers in Jerusalem (you see this beginning in chapter 21 in the Book of Acts), he is received warmly by the believers there. But during a visit to the temple, Jews from Asia Minor recognize him. They attack Paul and they try to kill him because of his teaching that includes the non-Jews together with the Jews in proclaiming the Christian faith.

 

When the Roman army intervenes, the Jews falsely accuse Paul of defiling the temple. So the Romans arrest Paul and they cart him off into prison but not before he tells the Jewish crowd about his new belief that Jesus is the long-awaited and long-promised Messiah.

 

Incensed, the Jews from Asia Minor plot to put him to death—a plot that is narrowly thwarted by the Roman soldiers.

 

Paul is transferred from prison in Jerusalem to prison in Herod’s palace in Caesarea along the Mediterranean coast still in Palestine. There, he is held captive for at least two years—possibly, significantly more. And during that time he is repeatedly brought before the country’s highest officials. He is tried first before Felix, the governor of Caesarea; then by Festus, his successor; and even by King Herod Agrippa, Herod’s grandson who is the new king of Palestine and who has just recently arrived from Rome to take his place on the throne.

 

Concerned that he is going to be released into the custody of the Jewish religious leaders who are determined to kill him, Paul takes advantage of one of his privileges as a Roman citizen and he appeals to the Emperor himself asking that his trial would be heard by Caesar. Governor Festus and King Agrippa grant his request and with several other prisoners Paul is handed over to a centurion to be delivered to Rome.

 

Eventually, after months of travel, a shipwreck, and even weathering the winter on an island in the Mediterranean, Paul arrives at Rome where he is chained to a guard and held in house arrest for two years awaiting his trial before the emperor himself.

 

It’s during these two years of imprisonment in Rome that Paul writes his letter to the church at Philippi.

 

The Philippian church which Paul planted on his second missionary journey and visited again on his third missionary journey is his pride and joy. He writes to them with a depth of affection that isn’t matched in any of the other letters that Paul writes.

 

He knows that the people of Philippi are greatly concerned for his well-being. They went so far as to send one of their own, Epaphroditus, eight hundred miles just to bring him encouragement and a financial gift to help provide for food on a daily basis for him.

 

They are anticipating, the people of Philippi, that Paul must be greatly discouraged about his long imprisonment and its interruption of his ministry and that he must be deeply anxious about his uncertain future not knowing if at any point his life could come to an end.

 

And Paul writes to reassure them and to strengthen them in their faith.

 

Following his opening greetings in the beginning of chapter 1 in which Paul expresses his fondness for his dear friends in Macedonia, his thanks for their recent financial gift and Epaphroditus’ visit, and a prayer on their behalf, then Paul turns to discussing his own circumstances: talking about his imprisonment, and the advance of the gospel in spite of his chains. He wants to reassure them that these have not, in fact, been wasted years.

 

So, let me start back just a little bit with the passage Stephen preached on last week to set the context of the passage that we’ll be looking at this morning. So, beginning in Philippians chapter 1 verse 12, page 1826 in your pew Bible:

 

Now I want you to know, brothers, that what has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel. As a result, it has become clear throughout the whole palace guard and to everyone else that I am in chains for Christ. Because of my chains, most of the brothers in the Lord have been encouraged to speak the word of God more courageously and fearlessly.

 

It is true that some preach Christ out of envy and rivalry, but others out of goodwill. The latter do so in love, knowing that I am put here for the defense of the gospel. The former preach Christ out of selfish ambition, not sincerely, supposing that they can stir up trouble for me while I am in chains. But what does it matter? The important thing is that in every way, whether from false motives or true, Christ is preached. And because of this I rejoice.

 

Now, at the point where our passage picks up, Paul continues to share with the Philippians about his own circumstances, turning and looking from the past to his future and what that will hold for him before he then begins to address the circumstances of the Philippians which will be the focus of the rest of his letter.

 

Now when Paul was first imprisoned in Jerusalem, it seemed as though his ministry had been thwarted and his mouth silenced.

 

But then it became obvious that God was using Paul’s imprisonment to give Paul the opportunity to continue to proclaim the Good News of Jesus Christ even in the very highest places: first to two successive governors of Caesarea, then to the King of all of Palestine himself, and then after that both to the leaders of the Jewish community in Rome—the most important city on the planet at that point—and also to the whole praetorian guard right in Rome itself, a city to which Paul had, in fact, longed to carry the gospel.

 

Acts 28 verse 31: “Boldly and without hindrance,” Luke tells us in the very last line of the book of Acts while he’s in prison, “[Paul] preached the kingdom of God and taught about the Lord Jesus Christ.” As Stephen said last week, during these four and a half years or so, Paul was chained, but the gospel was not.

 

But now Paul turns and he looks to his future, and things look bleak. At any moment—at any moment—he will be summoned to stand in front of the most powerful man in the entire world and in that moment his life hangs in the balance.

 

What will happen to his ministry? What will happen to the opportunities that God has given him to speak forth the name of Christ?

 

That’s what Paul answers beginning in the second half of verse 18.

 

Over the past five years, Paul says in the first part of verse 18, that in spite of his imprisonment, “Christ is preached. And because of this he rejoices.” And now?

 

Verse 18b:

Yes, and I will continue to rejoice, for I know that through your prayers and the help given by the Spirit of Jesus Christ, what has happened to me will turn out for my deliverance. I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage [this word for courage refers especially to fearlessness in the presence of a person of high rank] so that now as always Christ will be exalted [the word literally means made large, magnified] in my body, whether by life or by death.

 

This, he says, is his eager expectation:

If I stand trial before the Emperor of Rome, and I am released, why then I am confident that because of your prayers on my behalf and the strength and support of the Holy Spirit within me, I will not be ashamed of the manner in which I testify to my faith in Christ, but will instead have the courage to speak boldly of my faith before the Emperor himself, and to live from that point forward in such a way that my life is a testimony of the hope that is within me, and will result in Jesus being magnified.

 

And if I stand trial before the Emperor of Rome, and I am executed, why then, I am confident that because of your prayers on my behalf, and the strength and support of the Holy Spirit within me, I will not be ashamed of the manner in which I testify to my faith in Christ, but will instead have the courage to speak boldly of my faith before the Emperor himself, and to die in such a way that my death is a testimony of the hope that lies within me, and will result in Jesus being magnified.

 

Up to this point, regardless of the circumstances, Christ has been preached. Because of this I rejoice.

 

And from this point forward, come what may, Christ will be preached, so I will continue to rejoice.

 

This leads Paul then, in verses 21 to 26, to reflect on the two possibilities that are before him as his trial approaches—his life continuing, or his life coming to an end:

 

Beginning in verse 21:

For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain. If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know. I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far, but it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body.

 

Convinced of this, I know that I will remain, and I will continue with all of you for your progress and joy in the faith, so that through my being with you again your joy in Christ Jesus will overflow on account of me.

 

When Paul asks, “What shall I choose?” it doesn’t mean that he is trying to decide whether or not he should take his life. He knows that that is not our prerogative; it is God’s alone to determine whether we live or die. Instead, he is asking: if it were up to me, what would I choose for myself—life or death? Which of the two—living longer on earth or going to be with the Lord—would be more preferable, more to my advantage?

 

Then he goes on to explain why it is exactly that he’s torn between these two choices.

 

“To live,” he says in verse 21, “is Christ.” He is the one in this life to whom we look, the one for whom we live, our shepherd and our Lord as we walk this earth, and the meaning and the purpose for the living of our days. To live is to live for Christ. And what a joy that is!

 

“To go on living in the body,” Paul says then in verse 22, “will mean fruitful labor” on behalf of the Philippians and other followers of Christ that he is called to serve: service for their progress, service for their joy in the faith, so that their joy in Christ Jesus will overflow. And all of that is cause for joy for Paul.

 

But, he says on the other hand, “to die [is not loss] to die is gain.” To die is to be with Christ, to be with him fully, to be with him so that we can see him and hear him and feel him always, to always—without end—enjoy his company and his presence. That, Paul says in verse 23, is better by far than anything that we can experience in this life.

 

So his conclusion about his circumstances to the Philippians before he goes on to talk about theirs is this:

Even though my immediate future is profoundly uncertain, my ultimate future is more certain than life itself and both life and death hold riches beyond even speaking. If it’s good, it’s good. But if it’s bad, it’s still good.

 

Before we leave this passage, I’d like to circle back to the words in verse 21 and to the two questions with which we began this message.

 

To live is Christ.

What would happen if you were put on trial for being a follower of Christ? Would there be enough evidence in your life to convict you?

 

Paul says, “For me, to live is Christ. Look at me, see Jesus. Look at my life, see his influence on my life. Jesus is the defining reality of my life.

 

One commentator refers to “the breathtakingly comprehensive nature of Paul’s devotion to the gospel.“ He says, “His entire existence derives its meaning from his Lord.”

 

So the question that this passage holds probingly before each of us this morning is: what is life to you? What defines your life and mine? What explains why you do what you do: why you live your life the way you live? From what does your entire existence derive its meaning?

 

You’ve seen the t-shirts that say: “Soccer is life. The rest is details.” It may not be soccer for you. Maybe work, success, accomplishment, financial accumulation, your kids, your status, your desires and longings and needs.

 

If you were painfully honest before God, what would your t-shirt say?

 

What is life that makes everything else just details for you? What explains who you are, why you are the way you are, what you do? What is the defining reality of your life?

 

Last week I had a meeting in Washington D.C., so I arranged for my flight to get in early, and I got off the Metro at Arlington Cemetery, walked all the way back to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldiers, past the Kennedy grave and then to the Lincoln Memorial, the Korean Memorial, the Roosevelt, the Jefferson, past the Washington to the World War II and then over to the Smithsonian to catch the Metro in time for a meeting to start at noon out in the suburbs.

 

I was hoofin’ it, and I was having a blast! It was so much fun. But one of the things that struck me is everywhere you turn in Washington, D.C., there is a monument to another person. Everything is chiseled with inscriptions that point to human beings.

 

Not on this trip but another one, I was visiting a church in Washington, D.C. and noticed as I walked into it that there where the entryway is to the side of the building chiseled in marble were the names of the building committee.

 

For so many of us, our lives are monuments that we build to ourselves. Look at me. Look what I’ve done. Look at who I am. Look at how important I am. It’s all about me. I certainly see that impulse in myself.

 

But Listen to this passage. Listen to who it is that Paul cannot stop talking about. In these short verses—six or seven verses—look at how many times he mentions Jesus: verse 18, verse 19, verse 20, verse 21, verse 23, verse 26.

 

To live is Christ. It is all about him. My life is a monument to him. Paul’s goal as he says in verse 20 is to live in such a way that Christ is exalted—literally, that he is made large, that he is magnified.

 

I still remember vividly the first time I really discovered binoculars. I was about early on in my elementary school years and I had a friend over to spend the night at my house and it happened that when we flipped off the lights in my room and looked out, there was a full moon out in a clear sky and I went and I got the binoculars and I held them up to my eyes and it blew me away! It was like I could reach out and touch that thing. It was like the moon was seven feet away from the edge of my window and looming enormously.

 

And then I turned the binoculars around and now all of a sudden all these things that are inches from my fingers seem as though they’ve receded across the state line and that I’m going to have to walk for hours just to reach these things that were moments before at my fingertips.

 

There is a spiritual principle concerning God and humanity that always is true: when it comes to God and me, whenever one is magnified the other will be diminished.

 

John spells it out in the third chapter of his gospel when he says, “He must increase. I must decrease.” Because, of course, the only other option is: I must increase and, as a result, he will necessarily decrease.

 

Which does your life do to Jesus? Does your life magnify him or does it diminish him? Amplify him or mute him?

 

When people have spent time with you, do they walk away from you saying, “Wow! That person is an incredible person?” Or do they walk away and say, “Wow! That person follows an incredible God?”

 

When one is magnified, the other necessarily is diminished.

 

Our life is about something bigger than us. The reason we exist, the reason that we were made, is bigger than us. It is about him: about the one who made me, the one who died for me, the one who is Lord over me and over all of existence.

 

And as long as I try to make something big of me, I will make something small of him.

 

For to me, to live is Christ.

 

What are you living your life for? Who is magnified in the way you live your life?

 

To live is Christ.

 

And then Paul says:

 

To die is gain.

What would happen if the penalty for being a follower of Christ were the death penalty? Is it for this life only that you believe, or perhaps only for the next life? Or is yours a hope that truly embraces this life and the next?

 

I think each of us is bent towards one of two perspectives about life and death:

 

For some, life is a joy, and death is the pits. Death is a tragic interruption to a sweet existence here on earth. Lloyd Hartley captured it when he wrote, “Night approaches bringing dread of that irrevocable journey to eternal sleep.” The same idea comes through when Queen Elizabeth facing her death at her execution says, “All my possessions for one moment of time.” Frank Thielman says, “Death is the worst possible event for those who believe they have an inalienable right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”

 

For others, to live is the pits, and to die would be a joy. Life is a tragic existence and anything would be better than this.

 

When Ludwig van Beethoven lost his hearing, this is what he wrote and the parallels with Paul’s writings are intriguing: "I was on the point of putting an end to my life—the only thing that held me back was my art. For indeed it seemed to me impossible to leave this world before I had produced all the works that I felt the urge to compose; and thus I have dragged on this miserable existence."

 

Some of us so enjoy life that we forget that there’s a promise of something far greater to follow. For some of us life is so painful and such a great struggle that we lose sight of the ways that God is present and involved even in the middle of it.

 

My own bent is the former of those two: to enjoy so much this life that the next life is eclipsed. There is a proverb that says: For the happy heart, life is a continual feast. And I feel like that’s the way I go through much of life. Sometimes I can get so caught up feasting at the table that I miss the one that is hosting the banquet and the courses that are to come.

 

For Paul, both death and life meant service to Christ.

 

And this passage, I think, challenges our thinking. Is it for this life only that we believe? Is it for the next life only that we believe? Or is ours a faith that encompasses this life and the life to come?

 

What Paul says is, “He is mine in life. And I am his in death.”

 

To live is Christ and to die is gain.

 

Mehdi Dibaj, was an Iranian who converted to the Christian faith. He was arrested and imprisoned in 1984 by the Iranian government for “apostasy.” According to Islamic law, the penalty for renouncing Islam and becoming a Christian was death.

 

For nine years—for nine years—he waited in prison for his trial. When his trial finally came, he was sentenced to be executed. The Iranian government relented only under intense international pressure. But seven months later Dibaj was found murdered in a Tehranian city park under suspicious circumstances. When he was finally brought to his trial, this is what he said in his written statement of defense:

“Jesus Christ is our Saviour and He is the Son of God. To know him means eternal life. I, a useless sinner, have believed in His beloved person and all His words and miracles recorded in the Gospel, and I have committed my life into His hands. Life for me is an opportunity to serve Him, and death is a better opportunity for me to be with Christ. Therefore I am not only satisfied to be in prison for the honour of His Holy Name, but am ready to give my life for the sake of Jesus my Lord.”

 

What would happen if you were put on trial for being a Christian?

 

To live is Christ.

 

What would happen if the penalty for being a follower of Christ were the death penalty?

 

To die is gain.

 

Amen.