Philippians

Philippians

Philippians 4:10-14

Let’s begin by locating ourselves first.  Philippi was a city in northern Greece, what was then called Macedonia.  The city was named after King Phillip II, who, among other things, was the father of Alexander the Great.  The city was another of the major trade routes in the ancient world and, as such, was a place of racial, religious and ethnic diversity.  Again, we should remind ourselves, these diverse places were the soil in which the early Christian churches thrived, the kind of places that many modern Christians seem to fear.

Paul had started the church in Philippi perhaps a decade earlier.  The folks who formed that church were mostly Gentiles, that is, folks who were fundamentally different in background than Paul.  That church thrived.  When Paul writes to them, he is truly writing to his beloved people.  Throughout the short letter, the references he makes to specific people and the heartfelt affection he expresses distinguish this letter from any other letter Paul wrote.

Scholars agree that Paul wrote this letter and that he wrote it during the two year period that he spent in house arrest in Rome.  While he was in shackles, the church in Philippi sent an emissary to Paul—Epaphroditus—who came with gifts to ease Paul’s suffering.  While Epaphroditus was with Paul, Epaphroditus, himself, became very sick and nearly died.  When he recovered, Paul sent him back to the Philippians, bearing this letter.

Now, we haven’t really spent that much time on Paul’s biography.  However, a brief glance will provide a quick lesson for us all.  Do you remember when Saul was struck down on the road and Ananias was called to care for him?  Ananias was furious:  “Is Saul, having done all this damage to so many people, going to get of scot free?”  God’s answer is, essentially, “Oh, no, Ananias…nothing is going to be easy for Saul!”  Well, it turns out God was telling the truth…no shocker, there, right?

Saul has relentlessly traveled the world, getting ignored and rejected and dismissed in many places.  He’s been robbed and shipwrecked and imprisoned repeatedly.  He’s been sick, himself, and been through the illnesses of many with whom he was most close.  For the most part, most of the communities that he helped to found have been kind of a pain in the neck, getting stuck on issues that didn’t matter and totally missing some of the things that mattered most.  In short, nothing—not one thing—about ministry had been remotely smooth and easy. 

As an aside—but an important aside—Paul’s example has always seemed to me to be completely parallel to Christ’s own example in this respect:  being faithful and doing the right thing is not a formula for worldly success or an easy life.  Be suspicious of everyone who tells you otherwise.  If ever there were two people who you might think would get “coverage” under the prosperity Gospel, you would think it would be Paul and Jesus, right?  However, Jesus ends up rejected and crucified and Paul ends up running from town to town in between imprisonments, looking a lot like the guy who used to balance spinning plates on the Ed Sullivan Show.  

So, here’s what seems to be true.  If you are doing the right thing and things are incredibly difficult and you feel like the whole world might just be against you, those challenges are either going to make you or break you.  Maybe you get bitter.  Maybe you give in or give up.  Maybe you just decide to learn to become an expert in the fine art of not caring.  Or…and this is a huge “or,” or maybe the challenges and the setbacks and the disappointments just make you stronger and tougher and more determined and more resilient.  

The kicker is, though, that even if you get tougher and more resilient, you still can just turn out to be a very stubborn but bitter person.  You can still really be practicing the fine art of not really caring about what’s worth caring about.  You are simply too proud to let anyone see your despair.

So, things get hard and a certain number of people who were just trying to do the right and faithful thing quit.  Or, things get hard and a small percentage of people give into the despair but refuse to quit.  They keep trying to do the right and faithful thing but with a bitter and despairing attitude.  (I would like you all to know that at various points in my life, I have been a full fledged member of both of those groups.)  The thing is that there are other options.

It is possible for things to get hard, even when you are trying to do the right and faithful thing, and, nevertheless, what you discover is not despair but…perspective.  Instead of giving up my faithful intentions or giving in to despair, it is possible that the challenges and difficulties that I encounter along the way may invite me to learn to do what I do in a whole new way.  What changes is not the world around me.  Rather, what changes is what’s going on inside me and what’s moving through me back into the world.

For Paul, the key to this perspective is to realize who is working with us and through us, even in the hardest moments.  At the beginning of the letter, he acknowledges the hardships that he’s been through but he wants the Philippians to know that what has happened to him has helped, not hindered, his work.  There are a host of the imperial guard who have come to know him and who have come to believe, folks he never would have had contact with otherwise.  What he’s also come to know is how much the Philippians mean to him.  Even when he was absent and imprisoned, they not only remembered him but sent someone armed with gifts to care for him.  

None of this was the result of Paul’s plans working out or his life being the envy of the world.  He is literally in chains.  And yet…what he can see is that God is at work in his life even when things are brutally difficult.  No matter how hard things get, there is the chance that the present circumstances are worth enduring because God is working through you and with you.  Paul says, early in the letter, that God grants us both the privilege of believing in Christ and of suffering on Christ’s behalf.  In other words, suffering isn’t inherently meaningless.  There are things worth suffering for.  There is meaning to be discovered and lived and received.

Paul says that suffering makes us humble.  We all know this is true, right?  We all have had moments in life when we’ve thought, “I’ve got this…all on my own.”  I’m strong enough or smart enough or charismatic enough to power on through whatever the challenge may be until the moment that that challenge shatters any illusion of my own strength.  The humbling moment is the instant when we realize that the only real strength we have is when we show up and face the challenge before us and God strengthens us for what’s ahead.  My life is no longer about me.  My life is now about what God might just be able to do through me.  That changes everything.

Life is also no longer one disappointment after another.  Rather, the striking thing is that this man, Paul, who has suffered so much and who is still suffering as he writes this letter is consumed with…joy!  If life is not about getting my way, if life is not about getting ahead of everyone else, if life is not about how strong I can be, then I get to step back and breathe.  When I breathe, I get to see the gifts that come during hard times.  Beyond the chains that bound him, Paul saw Timothy, a steadfast partner in ministry who stood with him through the worst moments.  (How essential have the people who have “had your back” been to you?)  Paul sees the incredible courage of Epaphroditus, who came to him and the generosity and grace of the Philippians who sent him.  He sees the guard wanting to know more about his faith.  And in the worst of circumstances, these concrete acts of care, these visible signs of God’s presence, bring Paul joy.  In fact, he tells the Philippians that they “shine like lights in the world.”

Paul is so grateful to the Philippians that he tells them that he’s going to share a secret with them.  The secret is two-fold.  First, he’s learned that no matter what comes his way, he can deal with things because God will help him.  God works through people like the Philippians to strengthen him, sometimes by just knowing that they are out there, living their faith, other times by receiving concrete acts of care from them as when Epaphroditus showed up bearing gifts.  Even when things are hard, God-inspired acts of care keep hope alive.  When hope is alive, we can rejoice.

Second, he’s learned to be content. The secret is not that their gifts satiated some unmet need. Life is not about satiating needs and being comfortable any more.  He’s had times in his life when he’s had a more than enough and times in his life when he’s had very little.  He tells them that, “In any and all circumstances, I have learned the secret of being well-fed and of going hungry, of having plenty and of being in need.”  The secret is that he’s learned how to be content.  He’s learned that enough is enough.  He’s even learned how to be just fine even when it seems like there’s not nearly enough.

Contentment?  That sounds downright un-American, doesn’t it? Doesn’t our economy depend on us needing more, every day?  The question isn’t, “Will I eat today?”  The question is, “Which of the fifty options sounds good?”  The question isn’t, “Can I get what I kind of, sort of need today” but “Can I get what I desperately need A.S.A.P!”  We want everything we can think of on demand.  And by the way, our internet isn’t nearly fast enough!

Contentment?  This is coming from a man who is in shackles in Rome?  This is coming from a man who, when he’s not in shackles, can be found roaming the world as if his feet are on fire, who never stays in one place for long?  This is coming from a man who seems to have more suggestions on how people should grow than just about any other guy around?  This is not the word that anyone would have ever expected to hear coming out of the mouth of Paul.

Contentment.  This is how faith has transformed Paul.  His life is no longer about what he thinks he deserves or how he can deserve even more.  His life is not about having more of anything than anyone else.  His life is not about proving himself to himself or anyone else.  He is free from all of that and it is Christ who has set him free.  It is God who has said, in essence, that those struggles are over.  This is the gift which sets him free to focus on the things that truly matter:  that no matter what kind of a day I think that I’m having, God is with me and loves me; that no matter how big the challenge before me may seem, God will strengthen me; that right about the time I feel all alone and despair starts to grow, someone will show up for me—a God-send— and God will work through us all.

Faithful people will face all sorts of hard things.  Faith is not a free pass to skip such things.  The question isn’t are you strong enough.  The question is whether you are open enough to receive God’s help.  The question is whether you are willing to ground your life in God’s work in this world, wherever God may take you.  Could you be content with what you have and come to know that God’s presence in your life is always more than enough?