Messenger and Minister (08/11/24)

This is essentially the only time we hear anything about Epaphroditus, and what good things we hear of him!  Paul’s brief notice of him here shows us a man devoted to the work of ministry, and one that has been as selfless in his efforts as Paul himself.  The whole of verse 25 gives us a glowing review of the man, but I want to start at the end of it, the job description, if you will, before turning to what comes as more of an assessment of his job performance.

There’s another way we might divide this verse.  It leads to the same groupings but on a somewhat different basis.  That dividing line is between what this man has been to Paul, and what he is to them.  This may be the more fitting understanding, given the conjunction that joins the two clauses.  Those first three descriptors are joined by kai, and, as are the last two.  Between them, though, lies de.  That could be just another way of saying and, and some translations take it in that direction.  It’s primary meaning is but.  Strong observes that this can be either adversative or continuative in meaning.  In other words, it may be introducing a contrast or simply adding more to the initial line of thought, more along the lines of and also.  I might take it this way, kai seems to me a word that could readily be dropped in many places, simply replaced with a comma.  By way of example, I could have used and instead of a comma in that last sentence.  De, on the other hand, requires notice, even if it would more rightly be translated as and in application.  There is, at the very least, some shift of focus when de comes along.

Okay, so let’s look at that second pair of descriptors.  He is your messenger and minister.  Now, lest we jump to conclusions and suppose Paul is identifying Epaphroditus as their pastor, there is a focal point for this ministerial aspect.  It is to Paul’s need.  As a standalone, we might see it as, “You sent him to minister to my need.”  This holds both in his being the one sent to bear their contribution to Paul, and to his activities during his extended stay in Rome.

Let’s get back to the first item, though.  “He is your messenger.”  Here, we are looking at the term apostolon, apostle.  He is your apostle.  If ever there has been an example given in Scripture that clearly distinguishes between the office, held by those eleven disciples of the inner circle, plus Matthias, chosen to fill the gap left by Judas (Ac 1:26), and Paul, from a more general application of the term.  Both applications share the sense implied in the term.  The description is of one sent to bear a message, thus a messenger, as it is translated here.  Another term we might supply is ambassador, though in that capacity, it begins to take on a more formal, more official sense.  So, as to the office, yes; ambassador would fit.  Wuest actually applies that in his translation of our passage.  But he also offers a helpful addendum, derived from this word.  He is, “your ambassador, to whom you entrusted a mission.”  That’s the central aspect of being an apostolon.  You are not pursuing your own initiative.  You have a mission, an assignment to fulfill.  You may be in full accord with the intentions of that assignment – it will no doubt be easier to serve if that is the case, but even if you are not, you are effectively bound to the pursuit of that assignment in accord with the will of the sender.

If you want a clear-cut distinction between the Apostolic office and the more general messenger, perhaps the easiest way to tell the two apart is by looking at the sender.  If it is the church, then we’re looking at a messenger.  If it is Christ Jesus Himself, then we’re addressing the office.  It is on this basis, I think, that Paul struggled so much to establish his credentials.  The others could all point back to having been with Jesus throughout His ministry (or nearly throughout).  They had been with Him for a few years, then, heard all He taught, seen how He operated, known who He was in person.  Paul had none of these advantages.  He did, however, appear to have been given a private, three-year lesson, as he had his own wilderness experience after coming to faith.

Let me interject here that in this more general application of messenger, though it is the church who sends, one certainly hopes that Christ lies behind the sending.  We may not count it as quite so significant as it would be in the case of appointing pastors and elders for the church, but it is no less important.  I have a tendency to view modern day missionaries as more nearly fulfilling what we see of this more general sense of apostle.  They are, for the most part, sent by some organizing body.  I would expect that they go forth with a sending church behind them.  After all, the missionary undertakes the mission without really having the physical means to remain in the field.  There are costs involved, and if the missionary is ministering the gospel, that’s going to cut into his or her capacity to earn a living.  Being in a foreign field will do so, as well.  Face it.  In many places where missionaries are sent, the usual skillset of the westerner may not be particularly useful for earning a living.  It obviously depends where you are ministering, but in many cases, degreed employment simply won’t have application.  Trades may be of limited use.  You don’t need an electrician, for example, where electricity is all but non-existent.  No, this is not always the case, but you take my point.  The missionary needs some line of support, much like Paul had need of support, being as his imprisonment was a matter of his own expense.  I’m sure there were options for those who had no means of paying for their provision, but I’m also sure that was an option to be avoided if at all possible.

This, after all, was part of why they had sent Epaphroditus to him in the first place.  Paul had not been able to work, so far as we know, for several years now.  He had been in prison in Caesarea Philippi for two years.  He had been at sea for months.  And now, he had been here in Rome, under guard, however congenial that guard had come to be, for another year or two.  Housing and food get expensive, even if they are minimal.  That money had to come from somewhere.  Paul may have been from a relatively well-off family, given his background, but even that potential source would have to dry up eventually.  And I have no idea whether such a line of supply was actually available to him.

So, Epaphroditus is a messenger sent on a mission; a mission of helping Paul, both by bringing him funds from the church, and we might suppose, by serving as eyes and ears for Paul.  Paul, after all, could not leave the house.  He could not go to the church in Rome, could not be in the marketplace evangelizing.  But he could welcome those who came to see him.  He could teach those who, having been converted through the efforts of others, needed discipling. 

This messenger is a missionary in the sense that he has been sent on a mission.  The same could be said of Barnabus and Saul, as he was then known, when they were first sent out by the church in Antioch.  They had a mission.  That’s why we call it a mission trip.  You’re there for a purpose, and it’s not sight-seeing.  It’s not about you at all.  It’s about seeing the kingdom of our God established and growing.  It’s about seeing more of mankind brought into this newness of life that we have come to have.  It’s about bearing the Gospel to the elect, that they may hear the call of Christ and respond.  It’s about getting about the planting, so that the harvest may be plentiful, and getting to the harvest, that the storehouse of our Lord may be filled to the full.

There is a point made by Zhodiates, in regard to this term apostolon, which is aptly considered here.  He writes, “The ambassador can never be greater than the one who sends him.”  This needs to be held fast in all aspects of ministry, for to the degree you minister, it is in an ambassadorial sense.  To the degree, for all that, that you are a Christian living your life before the world around you, you serve an ambassadorial role.  Whether in official capacity, then, or in personal example, you can never be greater than Him who sent you.  To borrow the rather worn phrase, which I believe came from the Purpose-driven Life, though I’ve not read that book, “It’s not about you.”  If you preach of a Sunday, it’s not about you.  If you lend your talents to the more Levitical aspects of the worship service, such as music ministry, it’s not about you.  If you are called to lead the church in prayer, it’s not about you.  If you are sent off to some distant country to teach, or to supply help, or simply to be a brother to your fellow Christians for a time, it’s not about you.  It’s about Him who sent you.  It’s about His mission, and His message, and that’s it.

Turn it around.  If you’re preaching is done for accolades and fame, well, I suppose God can still use it, should He so desire.  He can use olive trees and donkeys, too.  So, nothing special about that, apart from God.  If you’re only serving in the music ministry to be seen and heard and appreciated, find another venue.  Yes, God can still use you in spite of your flaws.  Were it not so, there would be no church, for the church is built entirely from flawed individuals, and not one of us has approached perfection, let alone arrived at it.  If you write all manner of deep theological thoughts, see them published far and wide, but your heart is all in for recognition, and perhaps, if you are particularly good, a bit of profit, then you are doing no good; not for yourself, not for anybody else.  Again, God may use your flawed product, but if it proves effective, it’s His doing, not yours.

If you are an ambassador, then you have a sacred duty to remain on point, to pursue that for which you were sent.  You are not granted to make side deals.  You are not granted to negotiate some entirely different outcome than was sought by the one who commissioned you.  In sum, whatever it is you do for ministry, the ministry is not yours.  The church is not yours.  The field is not yours.  Neither, then, is the success.  It’s His and His alone.  And I will hold that this fundamental applies whether you’re Paul in his Apostolic office, or an officer of the church, or a volunteer helping with its programs, or just a fellow believer in the pews.

Okay, perhaps I can move to that second description, a ‘minister to my need.’  This, too, can have something of an official capacity.  There are, in some places, civil servants spoken of as public ministers.  Now, as generally observed in modern society, such public ministers serve, it would seem, with little enough regard for the public.  The more cynical among us might suggest that they serve for the benefit of their own bank accounts, and little more; perhaps the enjoyment of some degree of power and prestige.  But in its sense at the time, this was an office or duty often taken up at personal expense.  In other words, the job didn’t pay.  If anything, you paid for the job.  What a difference!

I would like to think that at some level, anybody who pursues a life of ministry does so with the mindset that they would be doing this even if it paid nothing at all.  It should not come to that.  Indeed, the fundamental teaching of Scripture is that the laborer is worthy of his pay.  Even the ox gets his reward for working on our behalf.  Certainly, then, the minister is worthy of his upkeep.  What, after all, was the point of that whole system of tithing in the Old Testament, if not to provide for the support of the priests and Levites in order that they, in turn, might focus solely upon the work of the temple, of serving God?

So, Epaphroditus was sent as their minister.  He’s not here to make a living.  He’s here at personal expense.  After all, if he’s here in Rome helping Paul, he’s not pursuing his own job.  He’s not earning.  Ergo, he must be expending.  Simple math.  But he has come to serve.  This is not servitude, per se.  It’s actually a bit of an honor.  There is prestige to the position of minister, taking it back to that more civil application.  It may be that as minister, you are servant to the king, or perhaps to a general, or some other man of high standing.  Take it into the church, and it must be, at the end of the day, serving as a servant to the King of kings, our Lord Jesus Christ.  This is high honor, indeed.  He, after all, has no need of servants.  He is God.  God does not experience need.  He is complete in Himself, having no dependencies on any outside agency for any reason.  If He has accepted you as His servant, it is an honor to you, and what an honor!

This being Sunday, I might put it in terms of being part of the service of worship in the house of God.  Oh, I know.  We can get all puffy and demand notice that the house of God is not some building made by man, but rather each and every individual believer.  I am the house of God.  And there’s truth to that.  There’s also, I suspect, a degree of arrogance.  It’s a declaration, at minimum, that the rest of y’all are somehow lesser believers because you haven’t recognized this.  At worst, it’s a bold declaration of, “I don’t need anybody else.”  And that, I would have to say, is an absolute lie.  That’s the lie of Eden rising up again.  You can be just like God!  You, too, can stand in need of nothing, no dependencies on anybody or anything else.  And you can’t.  Who is it, Locke, I think?  “No man is an island.”  No.  You weren’t created to be so.  Even with Adam, what was God’s assessment?  “It’s not good for a man to be alone” (Ge 2:18).  Do you realize that this is the first ever negative review?  Up to this point, everything was good, very good, even.  But something was missing:  Fellowship, inter-dependence.  This, I would note, God has in Himself.  It is at least partial reason, I think, for there being three Persons in the One Godhead.  Even for fellowship, He need not look outside Himself.

So, yes, to be granted to serve in any capacity in the worship of God is high privilege.  To be granted to be in the pews, singing from hearts aflame; to be listening with proper attentiveness to the word of God proclaimed, explained, and applied, is a boon beyond measuring.  To be in position to contribute to the support of those ministering here and abroad is an honor.  As much as we may keep accounts, and make our plans, boost our programs, and so on, God really doesn’t need any of it.  He permits it.  He gives us these opportunities to be part of what He is doing, and in all of it, we are the ones who benefit by the exercise.  We are the ones who gain.  We are the ones granted wholly undeserved honors.  How, then, can we not rejoice?  How can we not be humbled by opportunity?  How can we not give expression to a wellspring of gratitude rising up and bursting forth from us?

 “The ambassador can never be greater than the one who sends him.”  The servant of Christ can know no higher honor, no greater joy, than to have been of service to his Lord.  And may He have all the glory, all the honor, all the praise.  For our part, let us consider if, in fact, we are wholly occupied with holy things, or whether this is become a sideline, a momentary distraction from the true focus of our days.  And then, let us consider how we ought to respond to our own assessment.

Lord, help us to assess truly, and to respond rightly.

A Devoted Servant (08/12/24-08/13/24)

We have looked at the sending behind Epaphroditus’ mission.  Now we can turn around and see Paul’s assessment of his performance in that mission.  And it is truly a glowing report.  He is described as my brother, my colaborer, and a fellow soldier.  It would be easy to just glide past this, seeing little more than Paul’s usual politesse when speaking of his team.  After all, to speak of others as his brothers is not all that unusual, is it?  We see it often, even in speaking of those to whom he is writing.  And many times, the commentaries observe this as a bit of oratory skill, rendering the reader more receptive to the corrective medicine to come.  But that, I think, may be just a bit too cynical a perspective.  I think it more likely that it truly reflects Paul’s depth of feeling for all who have come to Christ through his ministry.  That extends, I would note, to those whose call came indirectly, as it were, through the work of those churches he had planted, and even, if we turn to Romans, to those whose conversion had little to no connection to his efforts.  After all, it’s not about his efforts or his name.  It’s about Christ and His kingdom.

But this is the first note of honor given Epaphroditus. He is my brother.  Don’t just flash by it because this is simply travel info, and you’re not taking the journey.  No.  This is significant.  This marks him as something far more than those others whom Paul had just noted briefly in discussing plans for Timothy.  They were full of self-interest, giving that priority rather than the kingdom of our Lord (Php 2:21).  Epaphroditus was not like that.  He was another like Timothy, perhaps not a son, as Timothy was to Paul.  But then, he had not been with Paul as long.  Still, in the time they had been together, there had been plentiful evidence that here was a kindred soul, alike in his compassion for the lost, alike in his concern for the progress of the redeemed.  That is shown vividly in his concern for those in Philippi, distressed by the news of his illness.  Whatever had been the cause of that illness, whether stresses from travel, or overworking himself in selfless devotion to ministry here in Rome, he knew word had got back to them of just how serious his illness was, and that they had no news as yet of his recovery.  He knew they would be concerned, and that stirred this compassion he shared with Paul.  He needed to get back, to be restored to them that they might no longer be concerned.

But note:  He did not demand release from his service to Paul.  Ministry still came first, the purpose of Christ still came first.  If that meant continuing here for a season, so be it.  If it allowed of a return to Philippi, so be it.  And thus, we have this second observation of Paul’s.  He is my fellow worker.  He is as devoted to seeing this gospel proclaimed as am I.  He has given every bit of his energy to this mission of preaching Christ, going out into Rome as I cannot.  And again, that depth of devotion may be seen in the illness he suffered.  Can we say conclusively that this illness came about due to overwork?  No.  It is not explicitly connected, other than to say, as Paul does at the end of this passage, that he came close to death for the work of Christ.  But then, this whole journey was for the work of Christ.  Still, I somehow feel Paul would not have made that association if his illness was solely the result of wearying travel to come deliver their gift to him.  Perhaps so, but that feels to me a bit too self-involved for Paul.

Then, too, his facing of so severe an illness and still continuing to minister once recovered, perhaps even while recovering, leads us to that third description of Epaphroditus as a fellow soldier.  This is not just a parallel description of his coworker.  There’s more to it.  Many labored together with Paul without having faced the sort of trials and suffering that he had.  At this stage, at least, it doesn’t appear that Timothy had done so.  He had witnessed enough of it surely.  But we don’t have record of it touching him directly.  As we saw in the last study, there is that notice in Hebrews of him having been released from prison, but we know nothing more of that event, as to where or when it happened.  It’s safe, I think, to assume it was a result of his ministry efforts, but as I say, at this point, it does not appear he has been called upon to face such trials head on.  It puts me in mind of Paul’s notice of God’s care in writing to the Corinthians.  “No temptation has overtaken you but such as is common to man.”  Okay, that’s the negative side.  You’re not somehow to be excused because unlike everybody else, your temptations were more overwhelming and overpowering.  No.  Move to the second part.  “God is faithful!  He will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able to withstand.  He will provide the way of escape as well, in order that you may endure it” (1Co 10:13). 

This is comfort indeed to the afflicted!  We’ve seen that elsewhere in this letter already.  To suffer for the sake of Christ, which is to say, not as just punishment for sins or for civil violation, but solely for the gospel, is no shame.  It is in fact a signal honor.  God has apparently assessed you as able to withstand.  Praise God!  See it, then, as evidence of your growth, not of your failures.  Such trials, when weathered, are opportunities to turn around and look what the Lord has done.  I’ve recounted often enough a few occasions prior to coming to faith where I thought my survival of trial meant I must be really something; that my talents had brought me through.  But in retrospect, it’s clear that it was no such thing.  So, in those cases, I look back from a greater distance, but somehow the distance makes it all that much more majestic to see what God was doing even then, even when I rejected Him with conscious determination.

All this to say that for Paul to identify somebody as his fellow soldier was far more than giving acclaim to their work in ministry.  This was more a veteran’s recognition of his fellow veteran.  And let us keep in view such veterans as returned from World War II, with the unquestioned honorableness of their service.  Other wars, it seems, have had clouds cast over the service of those involved.  There is something, it seems, which wishes to see their honor diminished rather than upheld.  It may well be that there are cases in which this tarnishing of reputation is deserved.  I cannot say.  But I also cannot say that I have faced the trials they have faced.  I cannot, from my comfortable office in a comfortable community where our greatest concerns are along the lines of when they’re going to repave this road, begin to properly imagine the heavy price paid by those who have survived long years of combat.

So, here is Epaphroditus, and Paul is effectively saying, “Yeah, you know what it’s like.  You’ve been there.”  Bear in mind that Epaphroditus would be there in the church hearing this read out to his brothers and sisters.  I wonder how he reacted.  Did he know beforehand that this description of his character was there?  Perhaps so.  After all, Paul’s accommodations in Rome would hardly be extensive under the circumstances.  And we know that Paul wrote primarily by dictation.  So, there’s a very good possibility, I should think, that he was there as the letter was written.  But if not, he was certainly there to hear it read out.  I can imagine a bit of blushing at the honor paid him.  I can also imagine a lot of memories stirred, both of the trials and of the victory over them.  In all, though, I expect those memories trended toward the positive; as I say, a looking back and seeing how God had been with him every step of the way, even in that period when death seemed a very real possibility.

Now:  Take that thought of the nearness of death, and recognize that Paul is very much in a like state at present.  He is expressing confidence as to his release, and yet, it is clear that execution is a very possible outcome of this trial, or, if not execution, then the slow death of imprisonment.  Is it any wonder, then, that he feels this shared comradery with one who, as he had done so many times before, faced death undeterred, and continued in ministry undiminished?  Indeed, he is my brother!  My brother in arms, as well as in spirit.  He shares so much in common with me, and I have every confidence in him.  If ever I needed another to have my back, he would be high on the list.  I might even posit that at this point he would be higher up the list than Timothy.  Timothy was reliable, certainly, firmly adhering to sound doctrine, and able to deliver Paul’s thoughts and teaching with authority.  But as to facing trials?  Well, as I said, that is untested at this stage.  And given the overall testimony we have of him in Scripture, it may well be that his weathering of trials was not up to Paul’s record, when trials came.  He weathered them, but it seemingly took a bit of correction from his father to get him through it all.  Not so Epaphroditus.  This was a kindred spirit, another man with spiritual backbone.

In this exploration of Paul’s review, I am very much beholden to the ISBE for drawing my attention to the significance here, and how Paul’s description of his messenger who had been their messenger builds to a crescendo of sorts as he moves from term to term.  He shares my sympathy.  He shares my commitment to the work of the gospel.  He has shared my experience of trials and suffering in the course of serving Christ.  He cares for you all as I do.  He works for Christ as I do.  He faces those trials as I do:  In the confidence of faith, and in the joy of the Spirit.

Having started reading through 1Thessalonians again with my wife last night, it puts me in mind of Paul’s greeting to that church.  “I am ever mindful of your work of faith, your labor of love, your steadfast hope in Christ” (1Th 1:3).  It’s somewhat the same review, isn’t it?  Your love is evident in its outworking.  Your faith is evident in your evangelistic efforts, efforts, you may recall that had reached Corinth even before Paul did (1Th 1:8).   Your steadfast hope is tested.  You’ve weathered trials and held fast.  And as with that church, this is not said to build up their pride, but to build up their Christ.  Look what God has done among you!  Look what God has done with this one you sent to minister to me!  Look what a proven servant of God is returned to you.

Now, observe that it is only after he has supplied this glowing commendation of his erstwhile companion that he turns his attention to what had caused him to be in Rome in the first place.  He is my brother, my coworker, my fellow warrior for Christ, but he is also your messenger, sent to minister to my need.  And what follows has something to it of Paul saying, “And let me tell you just how diligently he fulfilled that mission.”  This is where we come to his illness, and this is why I tend to view that illness as being the direct result of his commitment to serving in full compliance with that mission.  He didn’t just drop off the money you sent and head out again.  He didn’t come by, pray with me, and depart.  No!  You sent him to minister to me, and so he did.  He set himself to the task with such diligent determination that he over-exerted himself, he became ill for lack of self-concern, so actively did he pursue the work Christ had entrusted to him by your commission of his trip here.  Yes, given the arc of this discussion of the man, I think we must conclude that his illness was work-related, rather than travel-related.  The latter may have contributed, perhaps, may have exacerbated the impact of his disregard for himself in this effort.  But it was commitment to Christ, devotion to serving Christ, that brought about the illness.  He was that determined to truly fulfill the mission assigned him by the church, by Christ through the church.

I noticed this, as well, as I considered the text of this passage.  When Paul speaks of his being ill, it is not a passive voice matter.  It’s not that illness came upon him, or that it was inflicted upon him.  It is presented in the active voice, indicating that the subject performs the action.  We might say he made himself sick.  I suppose that would then be in the middle voice, but the sense of it still seems to be there.  He worked himself to exhaustion, weakening his body’s defenses by his efforts, and thus, granting inroads to illness. 

You have perhaps experienced similar things, whether in pursuit of ministry or some lesser cause.  If I review my last few years, it seems illness always finds its entrance on the heels of a period where rest has been absent.  Given my propensity for rising early, and the common necessity of being up later than such an early rise would generally admit, it is something of a concern to me in certain seasons.  I feel the necessities of the job creeping into my times of rest, stirring me to action when I would be far better served by more sleep, and yes, it concerns me.  Am I giving illness an entry?  I know that whenever such illnesses arise, my first response is typically, “I don’t have time for this.”  Well, then, self, perhaps you should give more time for rest; be just a bit less driven.

Thinking along those lines, I am appreciative of pastor’s use of the analogy of a vehicle in idle gear yesterday.  It’s not just that we’ve disengaged ourselves from the power train.  It’s that a vehicle in idle gets pushed around.  Its only motive force is being pushed by some outside force, be it work, the house, the weather, kids, parents, spouses, reputation, whatever it may be.  Yeah.  It is well to make sure that we are engaged with Christ’s plan and purpose, drawing our strength from Him, supplying our power in Him, and pursuing the road He has laid out before us, to be doing those things for which we were created, things, as Ephesians observes, beforehand so that we could be doing them (Eph 2:10).

Okay.  I’m going to move past the explanation as to why Paul was now sending Epaphroditus their way, apart from noting that Paul takes pains to make clear that it was not due to some failure on his part.  Far from it!  Indeed, he was working so hard to satisfy his commission that he made himself sick.  And it seems even that didn’t really slow him down, as he continued to set himself to the task of ministering, to the point that whatever this illness was, it had become life-threatening.  Now, I’m thinking those back home, while they knew he had become sick, did not know the depth of his sickness, else Paul would not find it needful to point out this fact.  But he does so not once, but twice.  He’s emphasizing it.  This man came close to death to see the work of Christ done, the work for which you sent him.  This is no mark against his service, but indeed high commendation.  This is the mark of a fellow soldier.  So devoted was he to the kingdom of God that he, ‘regarded not his life to fulfill that service.’  I draw that from the Tyndale translation, though brought into recognizable English form.

We come up against a certain juxtaposition here.  Epaphroditus, in his devoted eagerness for the gospel, produced illness.  God, on the other hand, produced mercy.  Each is the active agent in what they produced.  Now, let us observe in this that while God most assuredly knew how Epaphroditus would work, knew even that he would indeed make himself sick in his devotion and diligence, this was not something God had struck him with.  There’s something of a heading off of Job’s friends here.  This was not punishment for some hidden sin.  This wasn’t rejection of the man.  It was a trial faced and a trial weathered in the power and the grace of God.  God did not afflict.  God had mercy.  Epaphroditus did not receive punishment.  He receives high commendation.

So, what does it mean to have mercy?  It’s a word with an array of applications.  Here, I think, we can take it as indication that God gave succor to the afflicted, in that he brought healing to this servant who made himself sick.  Epaphroditus was, for all his diligence, helpless against the limitations of the flesh.  God helped.  Does that mean God moved miraculously to heal the man?  I don’t think we are required to leap to such a conclusion.  I suppose we could rightly argue that any healing, by whatever means it comes, is a miracle.  These bodies are miraculous in their own right, with their amazing capacity at self-repair.  But they have their limits, don’t they?  I found myself wondering if perhaps Luke had been around during this time, and as such, been present to help address this illness.  If so, would that not be every bit as much a matter of God’s mercy?  He could have been off with others, carrying out other tasks for Paul.  He could have gone home to Philippi himself for a season, or been absent for any number of reasons, perhaps simply researching in preparation for those two texts of his which make up such a large part of the New Testament.

We don’t know, though.  We don’t know, either, how long Epaphroditus had been in Rome.  I would have to say it is at least measured in months, long enough for him to have been busy until he fell ill, long enough for word to have got back to Philippi, so perhaps a prior letter written and another messenger sent.  And I would suppose there may have also been time for that one to return, bearing news of the concern they had for their brother.  But it must be supposition.  We don’t have records we can check.

Go back for a moment to that commission in which he was sent.  He was sent as a minister to Paul’s need.  As we observed previously, that ministerial office was, in many cases, an office undertaken at personal expense.  And that sense of personal cost applies again at the end of the passage.  His illness might, I suppose, be seen as the expense he paid to satisfy his office.  But it was also a matter of satisfying their own service, their own undertaking of ministerial office in that they had sent what amounts to a freewill offering to the support of their Apostle.  And they had sent Epaphroditus as well.  He, if he was in fact an officer of that church as it seems, would also be a price paid at personal expense to that church.  His absence was felt.  That seems clear enough in the concern expressed for him.  If he was not as dear to them as Paul, he was dear enough.  Knowing him threatened by illness, they knew a threat of personal loss, should he not recover.

So, Paul gives this final accolade.  This man you sent to minister to my need, did so to the utmost.  He demonstrated a disregard even for his own life in order to fulfill that service, in order to ‘make up for the help you could not give me.’  There, I take the NIV.  Understand.  There is nothing of condemnation in that closing point.  He is not making a small jab at them for not sending more, or not sending sooner.  He’s not suggesting the church should have come en masse to join him there in Rome.  Not at all!  He’s simply observing realities on the ground.  You couldn’t all come.  You couldn’t all be there to prevent this, nor should you have done so.  This has all been of God’s perfect will, and make no mistake about it.  Everything is happening according to plan.  But what you could do you have done gladly.  And what you could do was send this selfless man, who gave his all, very nearly in the literal sense, to see your desired work accomplished.  He came close to death for the work of Christ, and nothing less.

Last note under this head.  What we have translated as life here is not zoe nor is it bios.  It is psuche, which we would more usually hear as soul.  Now, we get into all sorts of debates trying to sort out spirit, soul, and body.  Spirit and soul alone make up the largest part of that debate.  There is a tendency to insist that the one is heavenly, and the other earthy, and sometimes that is true.  But that is not to denigrate the part of the soul, which is, in some applications, reference to the breath of life.  Yes, it often describes that animating, immaterial aspect of life that we share in common with the animals, rather than that higher life of the spirit.  But recognize this:  It is every bit as much the work of God’s hands as is your renewed life in the Spirit.  It is the breath of life, and as such, sacred.

Deserved Honor (08/14/24)

As we have been considering the voice in which various actions are described in this passage, let’s consider the act of rejoicing which Paul offers as a reason for him sending Epaphroditus home with this message:  that ‘you may rejoice.’  This is a passive voice action.  We might say, that you may be given cause to rejoice.  What is the cause?  As it should ever be; the realization of God’s grace.  We receive grace, and in so doing, we receive cause to rejoice.  God has been good to us!  It seems to me that we should ever have cause to rejoice, for God’s grace is ever with us, we who are the elect in Christ. 

But this rejoicing is not without its active component, is it?  Or, at least we move into the middle voice, for his sending to them comes with a command.  Receive him with joy.  Indeed, receive him with all joy.  There is no sorrow to mix in here, nor even indifference.  His restoration is an act of God’s grace towards you, a reason for rejoicing, so rejoice to receive him.  How is this a middle voice action, then?  I don’t see any notice of this being a deponent middle, where the active sense is implied but there is no active form to give the verb.  So, is it an act of self-interest on their part to receive him?  Well, I suppose it would be, given his devotion to ministry.  Is it an exchange of action between multiple parties?  I suppose you could apply that sense of the matter as well, for they could not receive him if he had not willingly gone to them.  And it seems clear enough that there is joy for him in returning.  What I am coming to is that the descriptive of doing so with all joy is truly the middle voice action here, evidenced in the welcome reception.

Let us not skip over the other quality assigned to this reception.  Receive him in the Lord.  In what would this consist?  How is that different than receiving him more generally?  If we go back to the previous passage, we have Paul’s noting that he hoped in the Lord to send Timothy.  There, too, the phrase feels almost a nervous tick, but it cannot be so.  No, what he was saying there is that his hope was a recognition of God’s hand and direction in the intended action.  Here, I think we should see the same.  Epaphroditus’ return to them in Philippi is likewise a matter directed by God’s hand and intent.

But this joy, this rejoicing is not a matter of some response to be worked up in ourselves.  We oughtn’t to need the urging of some particularly energetic pastor to rejoice at the evidence of God’s grace.  It’s not something to be done in order to be seen.  When is faith ever such a thing?  Rejoicing such as this comes of the Spirit’s work on our character.  It comes of faith recognizing God’s grace, and recognizing God’s grace, such rejoicing comes naturally.  It is not, to be clear yet again, a matter of jumping up and down, making ecstatic noises, and generally putting oneself on display.  Look at me!  I’m so happy and free!  It might take that form in some cases, I suppose, but such display tends to be more manufactured; a determination to put on a happy face however miserable I may be feeling.  No!  I’m supposed to be joyful, so lay it on thick.  That’s not it.  That’s fleshly celebration at best, more nearly hypocrisy.  This joy is genuine.  It may be commanded, but it remains a freewill acknowledgement of the goodness of God.  As such, I continue to greatly appreciate the description of rejoicing as ‘calm delight.’  It doesn’t need showy display.  Genuine delight may be expressed in a simple smile, or even just a quiet, inward prayer of thanks.

I can take calm delight in seeing the hummingbird that’s been visiting our yard.  I happened to step over to the front door yesterday before making lunch, and there it was, hovering over this flower and that, and even taking a moment’s break on a branch in the tree that shades those plants.  It was lovely.  And it was a refreshment my spirit dearly needed at the moment, something I could look at with appreciation and quiet delight, and the more so in recognizing a gentle reminder from the Spirit in me, that God remains in control and caring for His creatures.  And we are blessed to have some small part in it, just as we are blessed to have our part in the work of the kingdom.  It is a signal honor to serve our God.  As I have noted often, he has no need of our labor.  God is complete in Himself, and his purposes could, if He so chose, proceed perfectly well without any of us.  He would still be God, and His purposes would still stand.  But He graciously gives us a part to play.  He has set up particular works for us particularly to do.  And He has done so knowing our strengths and weaknesses, knowing our doubts and our stubbornness, and our tendency to wander off to other activities instead.  But they are prepared for us, and we are being prepared for them, and is preparation meets preparation, we find ourselves blessed to be a part of something so much bigger than ourselves, something God desires, and receives with rejoicing.  And knowing this, we can receive the work with rejoicing, even if we don’t get to see the outcome.

Okay, I’ve wandered a bit this morning.  I think it a good wandering, but I’ve wandered.  I’m supposed to be here to consider the deserved honor that is sought for Epaphroditus.  Receive him with joy, and honor him highly.  Honor all who, like him, have given unreservedly to the work of the Lord.  And again, he comes round to that experience.  He came close to death for the work of Christ.  There is no other cause behind that illness.  He set himself to the work with no thought for self, no regard for his soul, for the animating force of life.  If this was what God required of him, he would do it, and if that required his homecoming at this juncture so be it.  It’s the exact mindset Paul has expressed himself.  If God wants me home now, great!  What could be better.  But if He has in mind for me to continue here, that’s fine, too.  There is work to be done and I shall set myself to it.  And certainly, he had shown often enough that personal safety never had a place in his considerations where the work of God called.

“So take him to your hearts in the Lord with all joy.”  Appreciate those who labor among you for the work of Christ.  Honor those who have charge over you.  Be thankful for those who give you godly instruction.  Esteem them highly for the work to which they have devoted themselves.  Demonstrate that esteem and thankfulness by living in peace with one another.  I am drawing thoughts from Paul’s first letter to the Thessalonian church (1Th 5:12-13).  It’s a similar sentiment to what is expressed here.  Honor and esteem those who give themselves to God’s work.  They deserve it.  There’s nothing improper about acknowledging it.  There’s nothing improper about receiving such acknowledgement, either.  To be sure, if the praises get out of hand, like those who sought to acclaim Paul and Barnabas as gods come to earth, no.  We must bring them back to reality, and reserve such worshipful treatment for God alone.  But when one comes to express gratitude for your teaching, or your worship, or whatever it may have been?  It is no crime to simply say thank you.  We don’t need to deflect, or to insist we are unworthy of that appreciation.  Oh, it’s all God.  Yes, this is true.  But it’s also you.  You are the visible vessel, willingly pursuing your function, and you have done so well.  It’s okay to be recognized.  They are but doing their own part, honoring those who work.  So, be gracious, and accept their thanks, and praise God that it is so.

Recognize this.  Those who serve God rightly, whether in teaching and preaching, or in ministries of mercy, or in administrative capacities, or in whatever fashion, if they do so from a heart of devotion to God, and with careful adherence to His ways and His instruction, are deserving of respect, deserving of honor, and indeed, deserving of emulation.  Whatever their task, this remains at the heart of it.  It remains at the heart of how we are all called to live our lives.  Walk worthy of what Christ has done for you.  Follow His example.  Be blessed to have these living examples around you of those who have set themselves to do just that, and insofar as they follow Christ, follow their example.  And in so doing, live as one whose own example is deserving of emulation.  Show those around you what it is to be a Christian, how it is to live for Christ and to shape ourselves in accordance with His most gracious requirements.  This remains to me the most effective preparing of the ground to receive the seed of the Word.  Actions, as I repeatedly observe, speak louder than our words.  Best, then, that our actions should be speaking as one with our words, and not drowning our words out with loud counter-example.

Be like Epaphroditus.  Be like Paul.  Live for Christ, give yourself to that work which He has set before you, for which He has created you, and do so with full devotion.  Live so as to be worthy of like honor.  Live a life that others would benefit by emulating.  There is the key to receiving that reception we so desire when we come before our Lord:  “Well done, good and faithful servant.”  Oh, may it be!  Oh, may my heart so thrill to the task set before me in the here and now that it may experience the greater thrill of hearing that review at my homecoming!

Application (08/15/24-08/16/24)

If I were to ask why this discussion of Epaphroditus was included in Scripture, what would I answer?  It must somehow accord with what is said of Scripture as a whole, that these things were written for our benefit.  So, clearly, there is something to this from which I can and should benefit.  That’s going to require going beyond matters of figuring out where this fits in the life of Paul, or seeking clues as to whether in fact he ever went back to Philippi after this imprisonment.  For all that, Paul is pretty much out of the picture in this part, other than to note his deep thankfulness that Epaphroditus did not in fact die as a result of coming to help him, and that God’s mercy toward Epaphroditus in that regard was mercy towards him as well.

So, then, do we look to the impact on the Philippian church, and to that one command given them to honor men like Epaphroditus who devote themselves so thoroughly to the ministry of Christ?  Well, certainly, that’s one application we can take away from it.  And we should!  If all our response to those working among us consists in critiquing their efforts, highlighting any mistakes they might make, or positing how we might have done it better, then that needs to change.  That doesn’t mean we accept every message uncritically, or blindly accept every truth claim as accurate.  But when one has demonstrated a devotion to Christ and His kingdom, and demonstrated a commitment to give his all to serving in that devotion, we ought rightly to honor that man.  That doesn’t mean we need to give him laurels, or victory dinners or anything of that nature.  Honor runs much deeper than display, I think, though it may be demonstrative on certain occasions.  Honor appreciates.  It recognizes that this one has earned credence, proven himself trustworthy and reliable, and as such, honor starts from that starting point, trusting the trustworthy.  Honor recognizes worth, and having recognized it, will not tolerate the unwise, ill-informed character assaults of others.

This is harder than it sounds.  There is something in us that enjoys the teardown, flies to the critical like a moth to a light.  The fallen remnants of our old nature stir, and see possibility of a bit of fun, and off we go.  It is undoubtedly a matter of pride.  If we can make the honorable man less honorable, then we can feel just that bit more deserving of praise ourselves.  Nothing is further from the truth, for by the very act, we demonstrate that nothing about us deserves praise – certainly not in that moment.  But the ego wants its strokes, and the easiest ones to gain are those gained by comparing to others, and they get easier still when we can knock the others down a peg or two in our opinions of them.  To take from the old Bob Newhart sketch, “Stop it!  Just stop it!”  And if you are the more passive receiver of such talk from others, vocalize that very thought.  Yo, brother!  Love you to pieces, but stop it.  Just stop it.  I don’t wish to be drawn into this game anymore.

Oh, yes, Lord!  And be so gracious as to do the same for me, whether by Your own whispers in my conscience when that urge arises, as it so often does, or by wise rebuke by a trusted brother.  It needs to stop.  It is a poison in the soul, and a poison that spreads too easily in the body.  Yell at me if You must, but let me be the starting point for putting a stop to this unhealthy habit.

So, that is lesson number one.  And it is one that needs attending to, for we are by nature gossips, and that’s what this unwarranted carping amounts to.  It’s one thing to discuss points brought up in the sermon, or in email, or whatever the case may be.  And I’m not calling upon us all to become raving fanboys.  That’s not the point.  But belittling?  Character assaults?  I don’t care how benign the comment may seem.  It’s not benign.  It’s harmful, and its harm swiftly spreads.  Stop it.

Now, then.  Let me turn to the other side of this picture, the depiction of this one who is upheld before us as worthy of honor.  Were there those back home who did not recognize his worth?  Yeah, probably.  There’s always some such contingent in the house, isn’t there?  Yet, lack of recognition did not inform his service.  Neither would accolades.  The approval of man isn’t the point, after all.  And let me suggest this, though it may sound off.  It’s not really about the approval of Christ, either.  That’s not to say we go about our ministry without giving any thought to His preferences.  How could we?  We are servants of the Most High!  Of course, our ministry must be pursued according to His plan and purpose, according to His instruction.  Now, I say that, but I also recognize the very real possibility that we’ve gone off in a cloud of presumption, proudly determined that our ideas, such as they are, must be part of His perfect plan.  In a fit of pride, we might even go so far as to suggest that He ought surely to adjust His plan to account for our brilliant ideas.  Far be it from us!

Nor is that the example set before us.  What is set before us is an individual who was sent under commission to accomplish a particular work.  In his case, the commission is from the sending church, but we ought reasonably to conclude that their commission was, in turn, undertaken by Christ’s commission.  This is why we seek (if we are wise) to appoint godly, proven, Christ-serving elders to guide the local body; in order that we can have reason to trust their guidance, not blindly, but on the basis of long experience with their sound judgment and prayerfully considered actions. 

And Epaphroditus in turn would appear to be one who was of sound judgment and prayerfully considered action.  That may not seem to be the case when we observe that he had pretty well worked himself to death in pursuit of what he deemed to be the right course of action.  Surely, it is unwise to just keep going when the body says stop, right?  Yet, we will push ourselves beyond the body’s capacity for far lesser causes.  Name one athlete who does not do so.  For all that, how often do we keep at our employments beyond the point when the body is calling upon us to stop, at least get some rest?  How often, when a cold comes upon us, are we of the mindset that we simply don’t have time for this?  No.  Must keep pushing.  Must fight this off and persist.  So, then, why would we account it foolhardy of Epaphroditus that he pursued the course of his mission in spite of failing health?  We, after all, can come back to our tasks pretty readily.  We have, comparatively, all the time in the world.  If we don’t get to it today, well, we can deal with it tomorrow.  The work will be there to await our doing of it.  He, on the other hand, had significant constraints to deal with.  For one, there is the urgency that might come of sensing that Paul’s court date was coming quickly.  If part of his ministry to Paul consisted in preparing for that date, well, there’s really no time to delay, is there?  But more, there’s the work of spreading the Gospel, and this, then as now, is done with no date certain for the return of our Lord.  How many souls remain lost in darkness, in need of hearing this Gospel?  How many, even of the elect, await the right word at the right time, that the Spirit might move upon them to bring them to faith?  And how long have we got to get that job done?  There ought always to be a certain urgency to seeing the Gospel proclaimed.  That doesn’t mean we go to the nearest street corner and begin loudly proclaiming that the end is nigh.  But something of that mindset really ought to be with us at all times.  Because it is.  It could be today.  It could be five minutes from now.  We don’t know.  And whenever it comes, well, time’s up.  What remains is assessment; standing before the all-knowing Judge.  And what shall we hear from Him?  Shall we hear a, “Well done, good and faithful servant,” or instead, “You wicked slave!  Why didn’t you do something with all that I gave you?”

And if this is our mindset, will we not give our all to the mission assigned us?  Now, I don’t suppose every one of us is called to be an evangelist, though I do think every one of us should be ready, in season and out, to give answer for the hope that is in us.  If we are living godly lives, it ought to give rise to questions from those around us.  We’re supposed to be different.  Not weird.  Just different.  News of the day shouldn’t stir us to distraction as it does others.  All this whipping up of political frenzy, all this angry back and forth of societal trends ought not to catch us up.  We are not, after all, to be tossed to and fro by every wind of doctrine (Eph 4:14), and that’s what this amounts to.  The ideas of the world are but whims, constantly changing, and rarely right.  For them, truth is practically a non-entity, a cute idea with no basis.  On the other hand, as current evidence shows, their grip on reality is slim, and so, their insistent claims find no basis in reality, nor does this bother them in the least.  They seek to make their own reality, and seek that all around them should support them in this pursuit as they in turn go wandering into their own personally designed realities.  But it doesn’t work, and we need to be willing to stand firm amidst the nonsense, not rebuking in anger, but speaking the truth in love.  After all, the road they are on leads but one way, and if they do not wake up, turn off that road, and seek the narrow way, their lives are already forfeit.

So, yes, if you are living a life that accords with faith, there’s going to be a distinction from those around you who do not.  What to do?  Well, the goal is not to seek to fit in, though neither is it to purposefully offend.  The goal is to stand fast in God’s truth, live godly come what may, and, if others wonder at our calm demeaner amidst all the sturm and drang, then lovingly, graciously present them with the Rock of your foundation.

But your mission may be different.  Perhaps you’re more positioned as a discipler than a converter.  Perhaps your equipping is for works of mercy, or administrative support, or even the funding of the work of the church.  Servants perform many duties, and one servant’s duties may very well differ from another’s.  That’s fine.  Whatever it is God has created you to do, set yourself to doing it.  And in so doing, take heed to the example you have here.  It’s an example that echoes Paul’s own.  And, I should have to say, it’s an example we see repeated over and over again through the course of Church history.  If you take a moment to catalog the heroes of faith, I think you must surely find this common thread running through their stories, that they faced serious adversity, danger, and even death in the pursuit of their mission.

If you think of them, it seems to me this is one of perhaps two characteristics that set them apart as exceptional.  First, of course, there is their commitment to the truth of God, and to proclaiming it fully, come what may.  But it’s that come what may that really marks them out as worthy of honor.  These are men who, in a very real sense, put their lives on the line for the mission of Christ.  Like Jesus before them, they chose obedience.  They have, like the picture Paul painted earlier in this chapter, humbled themselves by becoming obedient even to the point of death (Php 2:8).  They have taken heed to the example of our Savior, and set themselves to emulate His example by their own living sacrificial lives.  No, they are not possessed of salvific power, such that they could, by their deaths, give life to the lost.  But such as they have, they have given, and given selflessly, even in the very teeth of adversity.  This!  This has got to be our most precious lesson from the passage before us.

We have been shown Christ, and His humble, selfless adherence to God’s plan and purpose.  We have seen Paul, now some four years in prison, having weathered countless beatings, shipwreck, treacherous kinsmen, fallible colaborers, and more, and still fundamentally, even exclusively focused on the work of spreading God’s word to one and all.  Now, we are shown Epaphroditus, yet another exemplar of devotion to the mission.  We can assume his primary function was to bring the contribution of the church safely through to meet Paul’s financial needs.  After all, his imprisonment was a matter for which he had to pay, if he wished to have accommodations such as would maintain him in reasonable health and likelihood of surviving the deal.  Yet, it seems he went above and beyond, settled in to help Paul in more ways than just keeping the bills paid.  It seems likely that he was out around the city proclaiming the gospel when Paul must necessarily confine himself to his house, only able to speak to such as came to visit, and of course, those guards assigned to make sure he stayed put.  And Epaphroditus gave his all to this work, showing near total disregard for his own well-being, if only the ministry of Christ should be fruitfully pursued.  Even his desire to get back home is rooted not in personal consideration, but out of concern for those back home, worried over his health.

So, then, he has been as faithful in pursuing the work of ministry as has Paul.  Their contributions may vary in quantity, and in their impact on the Church as a whole, but their significance is alike.  Their obedience is alike.  Their example is alike set before us as the model to be followed.  They’re not here in these pages so that we can read of their exploits and ooh and ahh over them.  They’re here that we might learn from their example, and then go and do likewise.  Does that mean we should abandon hearth and home, and head out to the unreached regions?  Does it mean we should all of us sell our possessions and head into Muslim countries to preach until we are martyred?  Probably not.  It does mean, though, that we should be earnestly seeking God’s intentions for our lives, our personal involvement in the global mission, and pursuing that with wholehearted devotion.

And in all that we would do, that we are given to do for Christ, let it be done from the heart, as unto the Lord.  Let there be a true compassion for those to whom we minister.  And let that compassion be as evident to those who are not – at least as of yet – part of the body of Christ.  I don’t wish to lose sight of that.  Only, in our compassion, let us remain faithful to the gospel which Jesus has entrusted to us.  And holding fast to His truth, let us give as has been given unto us, freely, gladly, without discrimination, but with good judgment.  Let us seek that we might be as selfless in our service as are these who are commended to our consideration.

To be clear, in so doing, we are not seeking to gain a name as heroes of the faith.  Yet, it ought to be our goal to qualify as such, whether that comes with recognition, or remains a more private matter, perhaps known to but a few.  I’m not sure I’m conveying that idea as well as I would like to.  Try it this way.  We serve because we know it pleases our Lord that we do so.  We don’t serve from some sense that His success depends on us.  It doesn’t.  We are blessed to have a part in His work, designed for that part, and equipped for that part, but His purposes are by no means contingent upon our diligence in doing our part.  As I have often noted, He is quite capable of achieving the full scope of His salvific purpose – and every other purpose, for all that – without our involvement.  God does not need.

At the same time, if we are doing as we are intended to do, and yet, doing so for the sake of being recognized, seeking honor and acclaim, then we are not, in fact, doing as we are intended to do.  It is well and good that we should give it our best, seek to do our task with all the skill and care that we can bring to it.  But for acclaim?  For fame?  Not ours, no.  As the Holy Spirit in His ministry to us, so ourselves in our ministry to others.  Let it all direct the attention not to ourselves, but to Christ.  He is Lord, and we, His humble servants.  That doesn’t call for some overblown display of false humility.  It calls for the real thing, a simply going about the duties we have been given with a real sense that in doing these, we are but doing as we ought.  Think of the lesson Jesus taught His disciples.  “So you too, when you do all the things which are commanded you, say, ‘We are unworthy slaves.  We have done only that which we ought to have done’” (Lk 17:10).  It’s more than saying it, for we are quite adept at saying the pleasing word.  No.  It’s about internalizing it, having this mindset in us which was also in Christ Jesus, Who humbled Himself.

Okay, then.  How do we serve?  Do we take to heart this business of giving no thought to health and self-care?  To some degree, yes, but I don’t think the call is to do so with reckless abandon.  That would smack of the temptation Jesus Himself faced down at the start of His ministry.  Oh, Jesus.  You’re such a man of faith.  Throw Yourself off this wall!  After all, God has promised that He will have angels there to save you, right?  Oh, they wouldn’t even let You stub Your toe, would they?  But how does Jesus respond?  “It is written:  You shall not put the Lord your God to the test” (Lk 4:9-12).  It’s not about presuming on God’s care and provision.  It’s about trusting Him.  Whatever the case may seem, we should not see Epaphroditus as exercising a foolish disregard.  That’s not it at all.  But neither was he going to let the personal inconvenience of this malady, whatever it was, prevent him from doing what God had called him to do.

Here’s your balance point.  If, in fact, God has called you to the work, then undertake that work in confidence.  Have confidence that He equips whom He sends.  Have confidence that he takes care of whom He sends.  That is by no means a guarantee of some easy garden path course through life.  Far from it!  And that’s something of an undercurrent to the message Paul has here.  As he spoke in encouraging the churches to perseverance, “Through many trials we must enter the kingdom of God” (Ac 14:22).  It’s actually a bit more painful than that.  It’s through many tribulations.  A willful child is a trial.  A child lost in addiction and self-destruction is a tribulation.  A quirky keyboard on the computer may be a trial.  But a crash that causes the loss of months of effort?  That’s a tribulation, albeit a small one.  You have the sniffles?  Perhaps a trial.  You have been struck with virulent pneumonia, and can’t even work up the strength to get out of bed to feed yourself?  We’re creeping up on tribulation, aren’t we?  But here’s a distinction.  Most of those examples have little to nothing to do with pursuing the work of ministry.  You may minister in and through any of those events, or the circumstances surrounding those events.  We are, after all, to do whatever we do as unto the Lord, and that includes the mundanities of employment.  That includes interactions with the marketplace.  That includes, dare I say it, navigating the roads.  Yes, this, too, we should be able to do without cursing those other drivers who seem such a hazard, and without grousing about the lack of upkeep.  Much though I may find the potholes and rough pavement frustrating, I assure you, there’s far worse that we could be navigating.  Choose instead to thank God for His provision.  Choose instead to recognize the reality that He is fully in control.  He has not been taken by surprise by whatever it is you face today, or tomorrow, or next year.  Neither, let us understand, has His care failed should it turn out that these circumstances lead to our going home to be with Him.

This, I think, lies at the base of this selfless, almost careless commitment to ministry.  Paul got it.  We saw that earlier.  “For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain” (Php 1:21).  Whatever you’ve got for me, Lord.  After all, I know You have my best good in hand.  And if death is the worst I face?  Well, death is gain!  Death simply means an end to this struggle with sin, and the constant battle against the forces of darkness, because in death, I shall be with You.  “This day, you will be with Me in Paradise” (Lk 23:43).  That’s the curtain call for every believer.  There’s a reason the grave gets referred to as sleep.  You’ve entered a time of rest, and that rest is in the presence of your Lord, your Savior.  He is here with you, and you are here with Him, and nothing in all eternity is going to change that.  Trust Him.

There are times when I think I have that fully internalized.  I can face each day, and each alarm in the news, with the firm knowledge that all my days are in His hands.  If this is my day to go home, then frankly, nothing I do, nothing all the science of man can do, will change that.  And if it is not?  Then no disease or disaster is going to bring me down.  There will be trials and tribulations aplenty, but they shall not destroy me, and even should they result in my death, yet I will be His, and I will but have been transferred into His presence.  How seriously has that been tested?  Not so very much.  There have been times.  I suppose Covid, with all its heightened anxieties, may have been such a trial.  Will you trust Me?  Yes, Lord.  Let me emphasize, I don’t think any less of those whose trust in the Lord led them to vaccinate.  Neither do I think any less of those whose trust insisted this be rejected.  The vaccine was not some salvific matter.  Faith is fully capable of accepting the skills of modern medicine.  But blind faith in some sketchy vaccine?  Sorry.  I’m not up for it.  That’s my choice, and praise God, He shepherded me through the consequences.

I suppose to some degree last year’s trip to Malawi could count as something of a trial, though hardly a tribulation.  But there are those issues of food.  What can be eaten without leading to incapacitating illness?  To what degree do I permit concern for such illness qualify my interactions with those to whom we are ministering?  Shall I refuse a hug or a handshake, lest there be some unfamiliar bacteria on their skin?  Shall I insist on my own meals, lest I find I’ve eaten something that’s going to cause intestinal distress?  I’m not even all that comfortable with the constant application of hand wash.  I get it, but still.  How would you feel if every time some man of God shook your hand, or what have you, he immediately ran to the disinfectant?  Even if you understand the reasoning, I should think that’s going to have a certain emotional, or psychological effect.  Why don’t we just have everybody put on their “Unclean!” signs?  But I must remind myself, particularly as this next trip draws closer, that trusting God does not mean disregarding common sense.  Far from it.  It just means that when common sense lets me down, He’s still there and in control, and I can continue to minister in confidence and peace, knowing that He shall achieve what He desired through my meager offerings.  So be it.

Lord, let my trust in You grow ever greater.  Let my confidence be not in my skills, not in my exercises of study and preparation, not in whatever abilities I may have, but entirely in You, in Your equipping me, Your choosing to use me, Your seeing to it that what You have desired from my service is what You get.  Be pleased to work in and through me, and let my greatest pleasure be in being so used by You.  You are a most gracious Father, and I thank You again for granting me the honor, the privilege of being Your servant.