New Thoughts: (06/18/25-06/27/25)
The Third Example (06/20/25)
I was pleased to discover that in my own explorations of these verses
I had observed many of the same themes as have been noted by our
various commentaries. Most surprising, in that regard was to find
that indeed I had recognized, if not fully, the purpose in including
discussion of plans for Epaphroditus in the letter; that it was more
than just giving the reason for his return to them. I mean, they must
have expected that he would return at some juncture. It’s not
entirely clear what they intended to be the scope of his ministry to
Paul, beyond bearing their gift of support to him. It seems clear
that he remained with Paul some time, and not with the sole purpose of
recuperating. He ministered. He ministered to Paul. He ministered
on behalf of Paul, bearing forth the gospel into the city as he could
not do. And all of that is well and good. But the point here is far
more than just letting the Philippians know he did a good job. As we
have been hearing from Ironside these last few sections of the text,
Paul is supplying examples of living out the doctrines he has
imparted.
To take my phrasing from earlier notes, here is another man with
spiritual backbone. That’s one side of the picture. It answers to Philippians 1:27 and the urging that they stand
fast in one spirit, united in soul as they strive for the faith of the
gospel. Think how Timothy had been described as one of like soul to
Paul, a man after his own heart. While he doesn’t repeat that
particular accolade here, I don’t doubt but that it applied. Only, he
did not have the length of association with Epaphroditus that he did
with Timothy. Yet, his deep fellow feeling for the man is clear. He
is my brother. He is my coworker. Now, that’s not to be taken with
the casualness we might feel in regard to those we work with at our
employments. To be sure, there’s often a sense of shared trials and
shared successes in the workplace. We may even establish something
near to friendships with some few of our coworkers, though that’s rare
indeed. But nothing in the workplace experience can compare, I don’t
suppose, with the fellowship we find with those who have ministered
alongside us in the work of the kingdom. That may be in preaching,
though I think that is likely the least frequent experience. It might
be in serving as an elder. Certainly, I feel a depth of comradery
with those brothers who served as elders alongside me. I feel a
similar, though perhaps less deep connection to those with whom I have
served in the service of worship. But deeper still are the bonds I
feel towards those with whom I have been working on these trips to
Africa, and that in some ways applies as much to those who come
alongside while we are there as to those with whom I traveled.
But while the lessons of this passage must come to apply to me, the
passage is not about me. It’s about Epaphroditus, about one who set
himself to the task given him, and did so with such a devotion as
demonstrated significant disregard for his own benefit, his own
well-being. Here was one so fully intent on the purposes of God, as
evident to him through the commission given him by his church, that
all consideration of his own health and safety fled from his mind.
Here is a man who exemplifies the life of counting others more
important than himself (Php 2:3). Here is
one ready to give of himself, to give of that which Christ has so
richly supplied within him, even to the point of emptying himself (Php 2:7). No, not in the same fashion as Jesus
setting aside His divine prerogative, but yes, in that he shows near
total disregard for his own comfort if by his suffering he can comfort
another. Here is one who quite nearly exemplified, in a most literal
sense, being obedient to the point of death (Php
2:8). And in the face of that approaching death, he remained
undeterred, continued on the course assigned him by his Lord and
Savior. Like Paul, it would seem he had faced that crisis and
concluded, “For me, to live is Christ and to die
is gain” (Php 1:21).
He is, then, our third example, and if we will but attend somewhat to
what is said of him, we will discern the surprising degree to which he
exemplifies the whole of what has preceded in this epistle. He knew
his mission and he knew his God. And armed with this knowledge he set
himself to fulfill his mission come what may. As the Wycliffe
Translators’ Commentary observes, he hazarded his life for the
purposes of Christ. And here, we generally have enough of an issue
with perhaps sacrificing a Saturday to serve in some ministry of the
church! Or, the service runs a bit longer than we thought it would,
and we start to feel put out. Has the pastor no consideration for
us? We have things to do! But that’s not a direction I care to go
this morning.
Where I do need to go is that place of knowing my mission and knowing
my God. I suppose I should also include knowing my enemy, but that
touches on matters I would reserve for later. We are just beginning
our planning for the next trip over to Africa, and I am somewhat
surprised, to be honest, by the immediate sense of excitement and
anticipation that arises in me at the thought. I am anxious to be
back once again, and anxious, as well, not to go with such high
expectations of a like experience as to set myself up for
disappointment should things be different this time, as they surely
will be. But there has been, on these two journeys, such a sense of
being where I should be, doing what God has been preparing me lo,
these many years, to do. Add those moments when His Spirit has so
moved upon me as to move me outside myself, as it were, and nothing I
do here at home can touch it. Nothing compares. No, nor should it,
really. At least on one level.
I must accept that the incomparable nature of this thing may well
indicate that what I am doing here at home is inadequate, that I
should be likewise used here, but settle back into the rhythms of life
and fall into neglect as to my real purpose. Or, it may just be that
this ministry of training and equipping our brothers is exactly my
purpose. It may just be that this has been the fundamental reason
behind these years spent studying. It is assuredly, to my thinking, a
mark of God’s providential timing that I am here, contemplating this
exemplar of faithful ministry at just such a time as we contemplate
the next trip.
There were trials, to be sure, in that last trip, not just for us who
went, but for those we left at home. I know my wife’s reaction upon
learning that I planned to go again was not the supportive, praise God
sort of response I would have wished. She felt the spiritual attack
in ways I did not, or perhaps I might say that the spiritual attack on
her was not an avenue I had kept well enough in mind in the midst of
my own trials and mission. And others on the team, I know, had
similar experience with matters back home. Then, too, there was the
rough flying into and out of London, and again as we neared home once
more. In fairness, going through those turbulent airs I was not
really thinking of matters in terms of spiritual warfare, only in
awareness of my utter exhaustion, and relief, of course, to arrive
once more on solid ground.
But even with this awareness, ought I to be deterred from that
mission which God has set before me? I think not. When my spirit
within so resonates with the mission, with this clear sense that (with
no touch of pridefulness) I was created for this, and with the
knowledge that it is my God Who has assigned me the task, well! To
quote Scripture, “Whom shall I fear?” “The LORD is my light and my salvation; whom shall I
fear? The LORD is the defense of my life; whom shall I dread?”
(Ps 27:1). No. The call is not to abandon
the mission. It is to pray more earnestly, and to be more mindful
that even in this, it is not solely the case that we go to minister
amongst friends, though this is true. There are also spiritual powers
arrayed against the work we would do, and their assault is not always
so direct. I mean, there was plenty of that as well. I think of
those struck ill as we labored. I think of those times of deep
discouragement some of us faced. I think of the aftereffects on some
among us, which have repercussions even to this day. But I know my
God. And I know that whatever else may be said of this ministry, it’s
certainly not about me. Whatever may be said of my part in it, it’s
still not about me. I do believe I gain by it, for never, do I think,
have I drawn nearer to God, nor ever felt so keenly His working in and
through me as in pursuit of this assignment He has given me.
So, Yes, Lord! Let me know this come what may commitment to Your
assignment. Let me give of myself, give out from all this which You
have been storing up in me. And, Lord, if You would, let me come to
an understanding and a willingness to pour myself out for Your glory
just as much here at home, even here in the home. Grant that I
might come to have this same mindset as was and is in You, that I
might humble myself, that I might set aside my pride and my
privilege, and that, not grudgingly, but gladly, if only it will
serve Your purpose and advance Your will. Even unto death? I don’t
know if I can ask for that much. But should it come to that, grant
me the backbone to stand fast in faith, trusting You come what may.
Humility (06/21/25)
Now, I would have to say that humility is not a trait that is shouted
about in this passage. Yet, the example of Epaphroditus is given as
an example of one who humbled himself to obey the Lord. Don’t lose
sight of that purpose in the writing here. As I have often observed,
humility doesn’t advertise. If it’s real, it has no need to do so.
It becomes evident from simply knowing the person of humble character.
This is not, I should note, a matter of deflecting rightful praise,
as some are wont to do. That’s often less to do with humility than
with pride, and frankly, nothing stinks worse than a prideful pose of
humility. No, there are two primary components to this humility of
which Paul has been speaking. The first is clearly seen in the
command as first given. Speaking of our Lord Himself as really, the
first exemplar of this humility, he observes that Jesus, ‘humbled
Himself by becoming obedient’ (Php 2:8).
This has got to be a key factor for us, for it is a key factor in what
God requires of us. What is that? “Do justice,
love kindness, and walk humbly with your God” (Mic
6:8).
What does it mean, then, to walk humbly with God? It means do as
you’re told, without argument and without grumbling. It means, if you
take but a step farther along, doing so no matter the cost to
yourself. Pride won’t do this. Pride can’t do this. But doing this
can begin to put to death that pride in us. I much appreciate
Clarke’s comment in this regard, as he observes the enormity of the
issue; that the pride of man required the humiliation of Christ to
destroy it. And let me tell you, even with that, it’s a lengthy
labor, and one we may find ourselves resisting, because pride doesn’t
go quietly.
But I do hear this further comment. “God
destroys opposites by opposites.” If pride is the issue,
expect to be humbled, and that, right forcefully should it prove
needful. Recall the pride of the Apostle. We see again and again
that it’s not in the office, though he will have that office honored.
It’s not because he happens to hold office. It’s because the office
comes by Christ’s appointment, and Christ is to be honored. No, he is
far more pleased to present himself as the bondservant of Christ, a
slave to his illustrious Master, and gladly so, happily so. That’s
not to say that life has become a life of privilege, having entered
His service. Far from it. I was rereading the litany of Paul’s
sufferings again just this morning, as Table
Talk turned to 2Corinthians 11:24-27.
I’ll not reiterate the list of trials here, but they were many and
severe. And yet, Paul kept to his course, pursued the mission
assigned. Like Jesus, he obeyed even unto death. No, it had not, as
yet, come to that, but near enough. And from the record we have, we
can see that he did not flinch. It’s even here in this epistle, as I
have reminded myself many times. What’s coming? I don’t know, but if
I live, it will be to serve God’s purpose, and if I die, it will be
because God saw that this would best serve His purpose. So be it!
Either way, I am with God. I am His, and He is right to do as He
will.
Epaphroditus, as we see in this note of his service, is indeed one of
like mind. “He came close to death for the work
of Christ.” How this must have resonated with Paul, who had
so often done the same. How such commitment to the progress of the
gospel even to the exclusion of self-preservation must have commended
this man to him as one of like mind, indeed a fellow worker and fellow
soldier. I’ll touch more on that last aspect shortly. But this: He
has suffered hardship and danger to see Christ’s work accomplished in
and through him. This is a man wholly given to the Lord. This is a
man so completely occupied with holy things as to have no time or
thought for anything else. This is a man who has fully internalized
that being a Christian isn’t about you. It’s about Christ – His
mission, His message, His assigning of role. Ours, then, is to do and
die. This is something far different from heedless pursuit of life.
This is far from the mindset of, “Let us eat and
drink, for tomorrow we may die” (1Co
15:32, Isa 5:11). This is more
the mind of one like Paul, informed of what lay before him in
Jerusalem. “I am ready not only to be bound, but
even to die at Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus” (Ac 21:13). Is there danger ahead? Well!
There’s danger enough here, as well. If it is my day to depart,
honestly, the location won’t matter at all. And if it is not? The
danger won’t matter at all. Not to say it can’t hurt. Those stonings
and beatings and nights in the sea were not without pain. But these
pains are met with the assurance of God’s hand yet being around us,
yet holding us fast.
I said there were two aspects to this humility, but I seem pretty
firmly planted on this first, though perhaps I touch on it a bit in
observing that it is not about me, it’s about Him. My comfort isn’t
the point. My name isn’t the point. What matters is the mission.
What matters is the Gospel, and more, the God of the Gospel. Have I
been given a part in this glorious mission? Then, praise God! Has
there been some progress in that mission that comes about in some way
related to my doing my part? Then, praise God! And far be it from me
to take the credit. It’s one thing to acknowledge rightful respects.
It’s quite another to claim the leading role, to be of that mindset
that would prefer to say, “Look what I did,”
than to sit in humble wonder at what God chose to do through me. It
takes a more honest self-assessment for one thing. And that will
surely produce a degree of humility. If I begin to think it’s been my
great prowess that achieved, then I can only await the humbling that
must come to destroy such pride. If my response to what God is doing
is to elevate whoever it may be through whom He has acted, then I
endanger not only my own spirit but that of this agent of Christ as
well. No, I don’t suppose I am possessed of such power as could put
either of us in real peril of perdition by my attitude or my words.
God is God, and I most assuredly am not! But I can certainly act as
an agent of the devil, however unwittingly, by stroking the pride of
either myself or another. And to the degree that I lose sight of God
in the doing, I assuredly put myself at risk of suffering – not
because He becomes spiteful, but because I have proven neglectful, and
must needs learn by discipline rather than by example. I have brought
it upon myself when this is the case.
This is a lesson my wife keeps pressing upon me from my last trip,
though I would say with wrong focus. To her the physical trials of
spiritual battle seem a reason to halt the mission and go no more.
But I cannot look at examples such as these and accept such a
conclusion. To be sure, there is call to be more aware of the warfare
we face. It doesn’t seem that way in the moment. It seems that we
are in a welcome position, and I would expect that with those to whom
we are ministering this is so. Yet, I would be foolish to suppose
their pews are any more purely filled than our own, which is to say
that there can readily be a wolf in amongst even these lead sheep.
And even if that is not the case, and I would pray it were not, there
are plenty in the country at large serving idols and false gods who,
while assuredly false are not for that case utterly powerless. Can
they win against God? Hardly. Can they trouble the servant?
Absolutely. Should they dissuade the servant from his service? By no
means! It seems to me that to give in after such fashion would be to
set aside the teaching of this very epistle, the which I have been
attending to since well before this last trip.
Now, there was a remark in my earlier notes, still prior to that last
trip but not by so much, which I find answered today as I begin to
look towards the next. I had written, “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!” And let me tell you, as concerns this
particular task, yes! My heart does indeed thrill. It thrills in no
small part in recollection of what it was like serving God in that
place of true reliance on Him, and true surrender to His direction.
And it thrills in spite of the trials, indeed, knows something of
Paul’s perspective on such, “momentary, light
affliction” (2Co 4:17). Do I
discount the scares? No. Do I dismiss my wife’s concerns as
nonsense? No. I take them as cause to pray harder, to lean on God
more, but also, as clear evidence that what we are doing in these
trips is indeed having an impact, a positive impact for the progress
of the Gospel, and for the edification, the building up, of those whom
He has called His own. And if that’s the case? Praise God, and let’s
be about it! I trust in Him to guard and to guide, even when my own
good sense is lacking. But I trust He has made us keenly aware of the
battleground into which we proceed, and may He grant us the wisdom to
take up our armor, and to pray for His hand protecting both us and our
loved ones at home, that His work may go forward unimpeded. And all
the glory to Him as it does. All the glory to Him for defeating those
attacks which came on the tails of that last trip. Yes, let the focus
be on His preservation rather than on the enemy’s attempts. Our God
is greater. Amen, so it is, and so it shall be. Amen.
The Christian Warrior (06/23/25-06/24/25)
I want to turn to that third accolade which Paul heaps upon
Epaphroditus, that he is his fellow soldier. This is an aspect of
faith which, it seems to me, has been less emphasized, less addressed
in recent years. We’re happy enough to observe that the Lord is a
Warrior, indeed, our Victorious Warrior King. Yet we’re not all that
keen on acknowledging our enlistment in the ranks of His army. We
don’t wish to be at war, thank you very much. But we are. Like it or
not, we are. And this being the case, it would be wise for us that we
should accept it, admit it, and pursue our lives in full awareness of
it.
I hesitate to come to the point of saying that if you aren’t facing
spiritual warfare then you’re probably not really practicing your
faith. Yet, there is some truth to that isn’t there? Especially for
one who is active in the work of ministry. Earlier generations have
perhaps known this more fully. Maybe we who have grown up in what has
been a relatively peaceful era, comparatively speaking, have lost not
only the taste for war, but the honorability of engaging in that war.
I’m not suggesting by any means that war in itself is good, certainly
not an unqualified good. But to fight the good fight is fully
commended, isn’t it? Timothy is encouraged to fight the good fight (1Ti 1:18), which is that of keeping faith and a
good conscience. And again, “Fight the good fight
of faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called”
(1Ti 6:12). Then, too, of himself Paul
writes, “I have fought the good fight. I have
finished the course. I have kept the faith.” Now, in all
these instances, the fight is purely spiritual. It is the battle,
primarily, between the spirit and the flesh. “Because
the mind set on the flesh is hostile to God, for it does not subject
itself to the law of God, or is it able to do so” (Ro
8:7). “I find the principle that evil is
present in me, though I wish to do good” (Ro
7:21). “I see a different law in my
body, waging war against the law of my mind” (Ro
7:23a).
This is, then, the primary battleground for the Christian, site of a
battle that is lifelong. But it is not the only war in which we have
come to be engaged. “For our battle is not
against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers,
against the world forces of darkness, against the spiritual forces
of wickedness in the heavenly places” (Eph
6:12). It is much the same as when God went to war against
Pharaoh, as recounted in Exodus. The battle was not
with Pharaoh, nor was the plight of the Israelites primarily to do
with him. No. This was a battle against the gods of the Egyptians,
among which Pharaoh accounted himself numbered. And that battle was
most assuredly decisive. The same holds, I should note, when we come
to the destruction of the Midianites in Numbers, or the instructions
to annihilate the Canaanites. Even there, the battle was not
primarily against a people, but against the gods they served. And I
think we must be particularly clear on this point. The Midianite or
the Canaanite or the Egyptian who truly and fully renounced those gods
and turned to serve the living God were not to be rejected, but
welcomed.
Now, I could pursue this further, and consider the doctrine of just
war, but that is not really my purpose here. I am not concerned with
matters of physical combat on behalf of this nation or that. I am
focused on the battle in which we are daily engaged, the more so as we
become more purposefully active in seeking to spread the true gospel
of Christ and to build up our brothers and sisters in holy faith. It
is on this front that we find Calvin commenting that such warfare
against spiritual powers of darkness, and against the sinfulness of
the fleshly old man, is the common state of the minister. And let us
understand in this context that the minister includes every believer.
We are ‘incessantly engaged’ in warfare,
like it or not. Satan, after all, is incessantly engaged in seeking
to shut down, infiltrate, or undermine the ministry of the gospel. We
see it all around, as church after church, if they can still rightly
be called such, abandon the righteousness of Christ to promote
acceptance of varied sexual sins, or as the so-called prosperity
gospel displaces the message of Scripture, that, “by
many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God” (Ac
14:22). That’s no call to seek out conflict, as if such
combativeness somehow constitutes holiness. It is simply a
recognition of facts on the ground.
Barnes is perhaps more direct, as he leaves no room for us to wiggle
out of this reality as if it applies only to the professional
minister. He writes, “The Christian life is a
warfare; there are many foes to be overcome.” And the
realities of warfare are not dismissed by Scripture. When Paul
encourages us to be good soldiers, it comes in connection with
suffering. “Suffer hardship with me, as a good
soldier of Christ Jesus” (2Ti 2:3-4).
You didn’t enlist for the fun of traveling to new and exotic locales.
You didn’t enlist so as to take your pay and go home. You enlisted!
You are no longer in a position to do as you please. You are one
under command, and your mission, your purpose, is to please the one
under whom you enlisted as a soldier. Perhaps you think that this
being a letter to Timothy, this is specific to his case, or perhaps an
engagement entered into by the one in active, professional ministry.
But then, we are all of us a royal priesthood, a people for God’s own
possession, assigned the task of proclaiming the excellencies of Him
who called us out of darkness and into His marvelous light (1Pe
2:9). We have enlisted. We enlisted when
we said, “Yes, Lord, I will follow You.”
Indeed, the very confessing of His Name as Lord is acknowledgement of
that enlistment. If He is Lord, then He commands, and I am His to
command. I have become ‘incessantly engaged’
in warfare against Satan. And that being the case, best I walk as one
aware of the battle.
As Calvin proceeds to observe, this evident reality of warfare
against a potent foe is no reason at all to leave off from
ministering. It’s no cause to abandon the field. It is a call
simply to be prepared for the inevitable opposition, and aware of it
when it comes. We are too ready to write it off as coincidence, or
just some petty annoyance of life. When the opposition comes, our
first response is likely to assume it’s just some natural occurrence.
Oh, we were tired and not as careful of ourselves as we should have
been. Oh, it’s just turbulence such as any flight might encounter.
Oh, it’s just the obvious thing to expect given what this one’s been
doing. You weaken yourself, you over-exert yourself, of course you
open yourself up to illness and accident. And it may very well be
that some of these outcomes are in fact nothing more than the natural
result of inattention. But for the one engaged in ministry, I suspect
it is far more likely to be the case that it is something more. It is
a battle engaged in by spiritual powers, and we would have to be
idiots to enter that battle as if it were only the outward, ‘natural’
manifestation that we needed to deal with.
Again, with thoughts of preparing for another journey to minister in
Africa, these things come with a greater urgency. For the sorts of
events I have just described are not hypotheticals, but real events
that transpired either in the course of our previous ministering or in
the days immediately following. I would argue that much of the stress
and trouble that has pestered my household in recent days is for the
same cause. Oh, it would be easy to write it off as simply old
patterns of generational squabbles recurring as we have sought to be a
place of refuge for our daughter. I could write it off as just the
natural difficulties of trying to harmonize very different lives and
lifestyles into a peaceful coexistence. Or, I could write it off
simply as her sins being sinful. I suspect that even acknowledging
the impact of her current, idolatrous practices in bringing a degree
of spiritual turmoil in the household may be missing the bigger
picture. There is a battle going on. It may be the battle for her
own soul, in which case, coming down with angry regulation and
retribution is hardly the response. It may be, much though I am
loathe to consider it, that the battle for her soul is already over,
and she is enlisted in the opposing army, in which case, I must yet
remain keenly aware that it is not against her we battle, but against
spiritual powers of darkness. And in that battle, we are not alone,
but we have One who walks with us every step of the way. The battle
belongs to Him, and victory is His. Ours is to stand fast and praise
God through it all.
But I am inclined to observe something even deeper here, and that is
opposition to the good work God has set before me in going to Africa
to engage our brothers and sisters there and equip them with the truth
of God by which to stand fast themselves against the significant
spiritual battles that pertain there. Here is a land with a long
history of pagan practices. Here is a land with many other false
religions seeking foothold. Here is a land rife with corruption, and
the seemingly necessary crimes undertaken perhaps as a means for
survival, perhaps simply because such practices are so common as to
seem okay. And as I type this, I cannot but recognize that this
entire list describes our own situation here at home as well.
Somehow, it seems we are a bit blind to the effect our own social
surroundings have on our character and habit. And this, too, is the
warfare of the Christian.
Now, before I leave this head, I want to touch briefly on this
association of soldiering and suffering. I would suppose at some
level it must hold that the soldier, by the very nature of his
service, is exposed to suffering. And I should think this was, if
anything, much more the case in the time of the Apostles. A soldier,
if nothing else, is called away from his home and his family to decamp
with the army he has joined. And decamping means long marches, likely
under load, and ending with the necessities of making camp for the
night, only to be up and away again the next day. Add the likely
battles encountered, and it’s not an easy life at all. Such a life
requires great endurance, and the endurance required doesn’t just come
on demand. It must be built up by long exposure to these same
exercises and depravations.
So, too, the Christian life which is, as we have observed, a life
enlisted in the armies of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. We may
not be on the frontlines of war, though we are probably nearer those
front lines than we tend to think. But we are, at the very least, in
basic training, building up that endurance that will be needful in the
conflicts ahead of us. And, if we have been at this for some time
now, we still face the daily exertions that build and maintain such
endurance. In this, like any weight-lifter or health nut would tell
you, no pain, no gain. But in the spiritual endurance that is our
consideration as believers, no pain, no excellence. I am borrowing
from a thought of Calvin’s here, who notes that patient endurance, the
which we are called to as one aspect of the fruit of the spirit, (Gal 5:22), can have no excellence to it if no
pain is involved. Endurance that is never really tested, never pushed
to its limits such that it is nigh unto breaking, has no particular
moral value, nothing in it that sets us apart from the stoic, or the
one who has by some means numbed himself to pain. I must go one step
beyond. Patient endurance, if it is to have such excellence as
identifies it as the outworking fruit of the Spirit, must be such as
required the very power of God to maintain.
And so, he who would exercise this patient endurance, who would know
this fruit of the Spirit, must know testing of the heaviest, most
difficult sort. There’s a reason we shy away from praying for
patience – because it cannot be obtained apart from sufferings. But
then, beloved, we are back to Acts 14:22 once
again, and reminded that it is only through such tribulations as
produce in us this mature fruit of patient endurance that we shall
enter the kingdom of God.
An absolute aside. As we begin plans for Africa, we have heard from
the bishops with whom we meet on these trips, and I was particularly
touched by the response from Bishop Shale, with his opening of, “Greetings from the kingdom.” Now, I might
suspect that this reflects the proud heritage of Lesotho, which is
indeed a kingdom complete with a king. But is this not a greeting
particularly suited to believers? Whenever we greet one another in
the name of the Lord, are these not greetings from the kingdom? As I
say, an absolute aside to our discussion here, but the thought came,
and I found a desire in me to see it recorded, whether or not I shall
ever return to these notes to read them again. Perhaps another will,
and if so, well, welcome! And greetings from the Kingdom.
Now, I mentioned that the beginnings of suffering for the soldier
begin with being absent from home and kin. I guess in the age of Rome
and following it was not unheard of for wives and children to follow
the army. After all, what else were they to do? To remain at home
was likely to be without means of provision. This way might be hard,
but at least there would be a meal. But perhaps it was not always
so. I think of the Apostle himself who, if my understanding of
Pharisaic requirements is correct, must have had a wife at some time,
though we never hear of her. Peter certainly was married, though with
him as well we hear nothing of her beyond her brief appearance in the
gospel on the occasion that Jesus healed her mother. There are hints,
perhaps, in 1 Corinthians, when Paul observes that at least some of
the Apostles, which we might presume means primarily Peter, traveled
with their spouses.
But then we have those sent on mission, and often, being sent on such
a mission meant leaving home and family behind. For one, there was
the cost of travel. For another, there were the inherent dangers of
travel. The Roman highway may have made travel swifter and more
direct, but it also opened opportunities for thieves. Ships may have
shortened the time by sailing before the wind. Certainly, they were
less exertion for the traveler than trudging along that Roman
highway. But, as we see in Paul’s own case, they remained a risky
mode of travel. Even setting aside the potential for an unscrupulous
captain and crew, there are the simple matters of wind and sea, which
do not always play nicely, and may as readily force a ship off course
as help her along.
Come to Epaphroditus, apparently on a solo run to Rome. He may have
had others who came with him, given the monetary gift he bore, but if
so, we have no mention of them. We don’t know how he made his way to
Rome, whether by land or by sea or by some combination of the two.
But he came. And, whether due to weakened physique after the rigors
of the road, or due to ‘Roman fever,’ as
some commentary suggested, or simply because he had thrown himself
into the work of ministry when once he had arrived, he had become
sick. My fingers want to type that he made himself sick, and that may
be the case, but it is not said, so let us not assume. As Paul
writes, that crisis is passed. But it took time, apparently long
enough that word had returned to Philippi as to his illness, and then,
too, word had come back regarding their deep concern for his health.
Now, again, we must enter a degree of supposition as to Epaphroditus’
role in the Philippian church. Was he their pastor? Perhaps. Was he
an elder? Perhaps. But whatever his role in that body, we can safely
assume he was a man of good repute, known to them as one who could be
counted on to complete the assignment given him, and not fall prey to
the temptations that might beset a lesser man who found himself
possessed of so much coin. I incline to think it likely that he was
an elder at the least, if not their pastor. But whatever his role, it
is clear that, as news of his illness had been to them a cause of
anxious concern, so news of their anxious concern was cause for his
own concern on their behalf. I’m not sure concern captures it
sufficiently. We can be concerned and yet remain largely untouched by
that concern. I look at the weather today, due to break into the
100s, and know some concern, but it’s not the alarmed distress of
inescapable doom. It’s more on the level of prepare as best one may
to weather the heat and mitigate its effects. Epaphroditus’ concern
was far beyond this point. In the NASB, Paul’s description of him
speaks simply of him being distressed, but again, that falls short.
The Wycliffe Translators Commentary offers the sense of the underlying
Greek as ‘not at home.’ That’s the literal
translation. Ademos, not home. Okay, now
think of that snide description of somebody of whom we might say, “lights on, nobody home.” Well, lack of brain
is not at issue here, but still, there is this sense of being beside
himself, out of his head with concern. It’s beyond distraction at
this point. For some, it would be utterly debilitating.
But what is being expressed here is, to my thinking, entirely of a
piece with the necessary heart of a pastor or elder. “Weep
with those who weep” (Ro 12:15).
Their anguish was his anguish. The threat to their peace was an
attack on his own. He is, after all, a soldier, set to defend. The
nature of his warfare may not suit the usual image of a soldier in our
minds, but the battle is no less real. And so, as a soldierly
response, there is the desire to be back together with them, and grief
to the point of distraction that this cannot be immediately attained.
But until it can, there will be no settling of his spirit.
Now, we might look upon this as evidence of weakness in the man. We
might account it a lack of faith that he shows such concern. How
many times have you encountered exactly that mindset? Oh, you’re
struggling so! You’ve got to have faith, man! I can fall into such
response myself. Why are you so distressed? Do you not know your
God, that He is in control? But that dismisses too much. No, this is
godly grief. It’s not homesickness. It’s not weakness in the man.
Indeed, as we shall come to, he goes home highly commended to the
esteem of his brethren. This grief is concern for the flock, concern,
moreover, for the progress of this Kingdom work. After all, if they
are as beset by grief over him as he over them, then they, too, are
distracted from the work of the Kingdom, and who knows what
opportunities for the advance of the Gospel have been missed? Far
better, then, that he should return to them, and put paid to this
compounding issue of anxious concern!
And in this, he shares with his brother and Apostle, Paul, who notes
that in sending Epaphroditus back to them, he alleviates not only
their concern, not only the concern Epaphroditus has for them, but his
own concern for both his fellow soldier and those back in Philippi. “I have sent him so that you may rejoice, and I may be
less concerned about you.” Note that their condition comes
first. His rejoicing will be the natural result, but it’s not the
basic concern. Neither was it the basic concern for Epaphroditus.
They are fellow soldiers, and the soldier, as well as his concern for
the wishes of his commander, serves with regard for those at home,
serves to defend them from harm.
Beloved, we are enlisted in this army. We serve not for the pleasure
of belonging. We serve not for fancy uniforms and the appreciative
looks of those around us. We serve because there is need, because we
are called to serve. And we serve with deep, heartfelt care for those
we defend. Let us go one step further. We serve with such deep,
heartfelt care for them, whether they know their need of defense or
not, whether, indeed, they have come to faith of their own or are yet
to hear and heed the call of our Savior. We don’t give up, and we
don’t give in. We stand in the strength of our Lord, our Victorious
Warrior King, Who is able to make us stand. And we fight as He
directs, knowing the battle belongs to Him and Him alone. Praise be
to God.
Regarding Gifts (06/25/25)
This passage is not intended to address matters of those sorts of
spiritual gifts which are so prominently discussed in 1
Corinthians. Yet we find in the text a sort of inadvertent
commentary on the subject. Those gifts, gifts we know from the record
that Paul had exercised on occasion, are conspicuous by their
absence. Honestly, as I took my notes on the several commentaries I
consider, there is unanimity in observing this absence, and I was
surprised, upon reviewing my own previous notes, that I had noticed
the same thing, even if I had not quite arrived at the same
conclusions.
It starts with the notice that this man of God, one whom Paul
accounts his brother, one who labors in ministry after his own manner,
a fellow soldier in the battle against such spiritual darkness that
even to this day seeks to keep the ungodly ignorant of the hope set
before them; this man, in Paul’s presence, had suffered an illness
that threatened to end his earthly life. His condition was bad enough
that news of it had gone back to Philippi, perhaps to prepare them for
what seemed the inevitable news to come, perhaps because companions on
the trip to Rome were returning home, and saw his condition. But it
wasn’t some 24-hour flu. This was bad. And here’s the shocking
piece. There’s no suggestion at all that Paul had done anything to
bring it to an end. Now, I have no doubt but that he prayed and
prayed hard, as did those in Philippi. But Paul, who had healed that
young man who fell to his death from a window while he was preaching,
apparently did nothing on this occasion.
Neither do we have any suggestion here that his recovery was a thing
of miraculous intervention. Surely, if there had been some
supernatural aspect to his restoration, it would get stronger notice
than, “God had mercy on him, and on me.”
That is not, especially with that inclusion of Paul’s sorrow
alleviated, notice of some miraculous event. It’s the same
observation we might make in having avoided some calamity in our day.
I could say the same of our having managed to keep two rooms in this
house at livable temperatures yesterday, and hopefully today. Was
there some miracle involved, such as we generally incline to count
miracles? No. Did God have mercy? Yes. Is there a place for
gratitude? Assuredly.
But I think we should have to agree with Clarke’s assessment of
events. He writes, “Paul undoubtedly would have
healed Epaphroditus if he could […] had the power of working cures
awaited his disposal.” This is key, and it is the point I
find our passage making in regard to those spiritual gifts, even if it
is only by inference. The gifts are not given for us to use as we
will. They are given to use as God wills. And if He does not so
will, then the man of God is wise to lay off trying to bring them into
play. Let me put it a bit more bluntly. Gifts are not things we can
demand. We are not in any position to demand that God act on this or
that matter. We are certainly in no position to dictate means and
outcomes. The gifts, should they come into the matter, are just that,
gifts. They are not some birthright we can demand, but a mercy
shown. More importantly even than this is to recognize that where God
in His mercy supplies His children with such gifts it is in pursuit of
His purposes. That is to say the power and the permit to exercise
these gifts is made available to man when – and I would stress only
when – it serves God’s ends to do so.
This is a great misconception amongst those who still believe the
gifts to be available and active today. To be clear, I don’t think
they’re wrong. It’s one place where I diverge quite a bit from most
of my current companions in faith. I do so, I think, advisedly. I
recognize that this may simply be the influence of having come to
faith in a congregation far more given to the exercise of spiritual
gifts. But I do so, as well, recognizing that too much of that
exercise follows the example of Corinth rather than the example of the
Apostle. It becomes a show. It becomes look at me being all
exercised by the Spirit! It becomes, sadly, an excuse for all manner
of excess and pride and outright foolishness.
So, I might temper Matthew Henry’s perspective that gifts are only
available when it serves God’s ends just a bit. Think of king Saul,
when he grew impatient and fearful at Samuel’s delay. So, he sought
to exercise those gifts Samuel was so often able to exercise. And
lo! He was able, though not to any good end. It puts me in mind of
that point made that there is nothing more terrible for a man as when
God looks upon his demands and says, “your will be
done.” I forget the attribution of that thought. I think it
was likely either C. S. Lewis or G. K. Chesterton, but I don’t
recall. Add that I am no doubt paraphrasing it rather poorly. But
the point bears on our discussion. Saul was able, but not to good
result, because the exercise of those gifts had not been in accord
with God’s good purpose towards him. Now, let us understand that Saul
did not somehow coerce God’s cooperation. His action was, in fact, in
accord with God’s good purpose, but in such a way as left Saul, who
was pursuing his own sinful, rebellious ends, guilty of egregious sin
before God. What could be more sinful than to coopt, or seek to coopt
the power of God for one’s personal ends? It’s original sin all over
again, man trying to be God and make God the servant. That, my
friend, is the attempt to reduce God to just one more idol to be
manipulated, while man remains firmly in the driver’s seat. And God
will not have it.
So, yes, I think it clear, given the Paul we meet in all his various
writings and records, that had it lain in his power to heal this
fellow worker, he most certainly would have done so. If you knew,
beyond doubt, that you could heal this one or that amongst your
friends and relations, and that in doing so there was no risk of
sinning against God, would you hesitate? Shoot, I know many who in
fairness don’t know beyond doubt, but think they might exercise such a
gift who would make the attempt with no qualms. Even if they were
uncertain as to outcomes, they would make the attempt. Can we think
Paul less likely to try what he knew was in his power? Ah. But you
see, he knew it wasn’t his power, and he knew that even with his
position as an Apostle, he could not demand healing. He couldn’t
demand it in regard to himself, after all. He notes that he asked
three times that God would heal him of whatever that malady was which
dogged him – and no surprise that it did, given the abuses his body
had taken – but God’s only answer was, “My grace
is sufficient for you” (2Co 12:9).
Now, I have seen folks who suppose themselves to have a healing
ministry try and twist Paul’s point here. They suggest that he
stopped at the third time because then God answered with healing. But
God’s answer seems pretty clearly contrary to such an outcome. “For power is perfected in weakness.” Paul, it
serves My purpose best to have this remain your condition, and you
must trust Me that it serves your best purpose as well. And Paul did
trust, and his condition did serve.
Look, for all that we have myriad teachers out there promoting a
health and wealth gospel, and plenty of believers, and yes, I would
account them yet as believers however misguided some of their beliefs,
who think physical health is some birthright possession of the child
of God. Honestly, just consider the case of Lazarus. If ever a man
experienced miraculous healing it was him. Yet, for all that he was
called living out of the grave, still to the grave he returned. The
leper cured of his leprosy, though he came and thanked Jesus for that
healing, still died in due course. The demoniac from whom Jesus
exorcised a legion of demons, leaving him to evangelize his Gentile
countrymen, went to the grave. Even John, for all that various
esoteric teachings try and suggest otherwise, went eventually to his
grave; just not by the means man had devised for his end.
Health is not an assurance. Physical death pretty much is. No.
Let’s make it even stronger. Physical death just plain is an
assurance. “It is given to man once to die”
(Heb 9:27). Even if that physical death
transpires in the twinkling of an eye (1Co 15:52),
as we undergo transformation mid-air, en route to meeting our Savior
in the clouds, still this physical plant must die and the new body
suited to the new spirit must become our spirit’s new abode.
Now, let me take another perspective, and observe that however it is
that healing has come about, even if it is simply by means of the
body’s normal function, such as we see happen when we suffer some
small cut, or as we find ourselves recovered from the common cold with
little more than a bit of bed rest and time, that healing is in fact
miraculous, isn’t it? It’s not the flashy miracle by which we
perceive that God has in some way bent the rules, or perhaps simply
sped them up or slowed them down for some specific purpose of His.
But it’s still a mercy, isn’t it? It’s still God’s power that heals,
whether by direct intervention on His part, or through the skills and
gifts He supplies to a doctor or surgeon – and that, whether said
doctor or surgeon is himself a believer or not, or whether it’s simply
through the truly miraculous design of this body. It’s just that it’s
the sort of miracle that perhaps doesn’t register because it is so
expected. I don’t go down this avenue of thought as one who would
propound that we ought to be pointing at everything about us and
calling it a miracle. I think that has a tendency to cheapen the
impact of those things that are truly displays of God’s intervening
power. But I do think it ought to shape us so as to have appropriate
gratitude for what God is doing, whether through means miraculous or
mundane. Truly, His mercies are new every morning, and thank God that
it is so!
Coming back to the main thread of my thoughts on this subject, the
JFB takes the point that the gift of healing was not something Paul
had on demand (nor does any other), and takes it the next logical
step. The authors there conclude that the same must be said in regard
to Apostolic inspiration. That is to say, Paul couldn’t write divine
revelation at will, nor could John or Peter or James or any other.
There is a time for everything, a season, as will be familiar from Ecclesiastes 3. That includes the exercise of
these gifts, even the gift of Apostolic revelation. Or, perhaps we
would remain more nearly in the right perspective if we said it
includes being exercised by these gifts. But still, there is the will
of man involved in their exercise, even though God remains in
control. Let us then, whatever our perspective on these gifts, and
whatever gifts it may be that God has given us, abide in the
understanding that those gifts are entrusted to us to be used
specifically on those occasions in which the Spirit sees fit to have
us use them. They are not a permanent grant, and they are not a toy.
They are not merit badges to show others how wonderful we are. They
are given for the building up of the body, and the body cannot be
rightly built up except as the Head directs.
Honor (06/26/25)
This morning, we turn to a much different aspect of the lesson; how
we ought to respond to such exemplary men as have been set before us
in these three examples. The answer is straightforward. Receive them
with joy, and hold them in high regard. I’ll touch on the joyful
aspect later. Here, I wish to consider that second part, which we
might restate as honor the honorable. Now, per the lesson of Romans
13:7, we must recognize that this command goes beyond the
family of Christ. “Render to all what
is due them; tax to whom tax is due, custom to whom custom,
reverence to whom reverence, honor to whom honor.” And it
continues. “Owe nothing to anyone except to love
one another, for he who loves his neighbor has fulfilled the law”
(Ro 13:8).
Well, if this holds with neighbors, how much more within the family?
And let us understand that honor goes beyond mere politeness. I
should come back to the actual term we have here in this passage, entimos. It is a matter of valuation or
valuation. Value them. Hold them to be so, consider them valuable,
for they are. It comes to the same thing, though, doesn’t it? Honor
them, for they are worthy of honor. And oh, says our prideful
humility, but we are unworthy! Far be it from us to accept such
honor. It belongs to God alone. But there is nothing of robbing God
in accepting the honor given godliness. Their godly service is worthy
of recognition, and not merely recognition, but full appreciation.
Full appreciation will surely honor that one who serves. Do we not
applaud in response to a fine performance? Do we not show
appreciation for the skill of a fine artist? Do we not nod along as
we read the impressive words of a skilled author? Then why do we
suddenly think it out of place to acknowledge the godly skills of the
man of God, whose skills, after all, serve so much greater a purpose?
The point is simply understood. Honor recognizes worth, and
expresses that recognition. It goes farther. Honor values that
worth. That’s what we have before us, isn’t it? Value it! Had you
gone to some yard sale, or barn sale or some such and purchased what
seemed a rather beat up bit of furniture, but upon bringing it home
and cleaning it up a bit, discovered yourself in possession of a
rather fine piece, would you not value it the more? If, with a bit of
research, you then discovered that you had come into possession of
some rare and valuable example of some ancient artisan’s work, you
would likely value it so highly as to make it a show-piece, rather
than something actually used day to day. Or, perhaps you have
inherited a bit of furniture that belonged to your parents, or your
grand-parents. You may not know much more about it than that. Yet,
it gains value for the association. It is honored simply for its
connection to your history. It has worth in that it might
occasionally jog a memory of the one who first owned it, or the one
from whom you received it.
That aspect also comes into play here, or at least it may. The
Wycliffe Translators Commentary suggests as much, finding in this
instruction the sense that Paul is saying, “Receive
him back as my gift to you.” In just such a sense they had
sent Epaphroditus to him; as much their gift to him as the funding he
brought. And now, though less the funding, he is restored in like
fashion. Receive him, then, as from me. Let his restored presence
among you remind you of me. But that is so much the lesser aspect.
Let his work among you remind you of Christ. After all, to be
reminded of Paul is ever and always to be reminded of Christ whom he
serves. That’s the fundamental point here, isn’t it? These are
examples of godliness, of devotion to Christ. As such, they are
living testimonies, as we are called to be. As such, their words and
actions while with us (or while absent, for all that), serve to direct
us back to Christ Jesus our Lord.
Another aspect needs consideration. If indeed these men are servants
of Christ and represent him as duly appointed agents of His kingdom,
to disregard or disrespect them is in fact to disregard and disrespect
Christ whom they represent. If, on the basis of Christ in them, they
are worthy of honor, then we who are honored by the gift of their
service must not tolerate such as would assault their character. That
is not to suggest we ought to account them flawless, nor have any
expectation that they ought to be so; at least not any greater
expectation of it than we would have for ourselves. But so much of
the attack made upon the man of God, whether pastor or elder or deacon
or just fellow congregant, comes from an ill-informed perception of
the man. Much of it comes of seeking to bolster one’s own poor
performance by knocking down the one who excels.
But honor recognizes worth and values it. Godliness acknowledges
godliness, and all the more when that other godliness excels our own,
for the godly man knows that to be with such as excels his own
progress serves to aid his own progress. There is a lesson one learns
in various conditions of life. It may be in the realm of music, or in
the realm of sport, or in the realm of general employment. It may
very well be in the realm of family life, though it’s a harder thing
to see there, or to do much about. But in these more casual
associations, we have more freedom to make choice of them, or to
choose another. And in those choices, it is well to choose those
associations that set us among others we deem more skilled than
ourselves. It comes to this. If you surround yourselves with those
more able, it in many ways encourages increase in your own ability.
It may simply be that you try harder because you perceive that you are
the weakest link, and you don’t wish to detract from the value of the
output. It may be that you have surrounded yourself with examples by
which you are enabled to improve your own ability. It may be that
those more advanced are gladly willing to impart to you from their
wisdom.
But it may also be none of this, oddly enough. I recall that time,
back when I was involved with league bowling, that I filled in for one
of my teammates in a different league where he played on a different
team. And that league was at a level far in excess from that in which
I usually played. Now, there was nothing of coaching to it, and
frankly, I would likely never see these folks again, so little enough
cause to care about their opinions. Yet, I found my level of play
improved. I bowled well above my average. Come back to my usual
league, and lo, I was back to my usual average. But something
happened there. Something about being amongst those who excel you
leads you to excel yourself.
Okay, so take yourself from these worldly examples back to the
spiritual. If you are blessed to have such godly examples around you,
be it in places of authority or merely as coreligionists, honor and
appreciate them. And honoring them, suffer no unworthy attack upon
their service and reputation. And by no means allow yourself to be
the one who attacks! Would you suffer an attack upon your loved
ones? Would you just stand back and applaud, or worse, become an
active participant in that attack? I hope not! I hope the very
thought of such a thing repulses you. But how is this different? You
witness such a character assassination attempt, the inevitable motive
of gossip, and instead of taking swift action to end the attack, what
happens? Oh! Our ears are so eager to hear, our lips so ready to
join in. Was ever a sin against man more egregious? For such sin, as
all sin, is not in fact against the man, but against God whom he
serves, God whose image he bears.
So, then, as Calvin urges, make it your care not merely to avoid
undermining the authority of a good pastor, a good elder, but to do
that which lies within your power to further establish their
authority. Do not allow yourself to be used as instruments of the
devil. Does that seem harsh? It is harsh. Harsher still to find, at
the end of one’s days, that he has in fact been no more than an
instrument of the devil, for all that he thought himself in the
household of God. Now, it may be some thing of an instant. I think
of Peter’s admonition of Jesus when Jesus spoke of His coming death.
Jesus! You shouldn’t talk like that! I mean, can you imagine?
Well, of course you can, because you have no doubt blurted out just
such responses without understanding, as have I. But how did Jesus
respond? “Get behind Me, Satan!” (Mt
16:23). You aren’t seeing from God’s perspective, but your
own. All this to say, the momentary lapse is not to be supposed as
condemnatory, indication that all hope is lost in your case, or in the
case of any other. But well that we should recognize what has
happened. You have allowed yourself to be played by one who has not
the right to play you. You belong to Christ, and are His to play and
no other’s.
That analogy only functions so far, I suppose. For, if we are
played, there is the sense that we had no say in the matter, and that
is not so. Unlike these instruments in my room behind me, we do have
a say in being played. We are not mere objects, helpless in the hands
of greater powers. We are moral agents, created with a will, and
exercising it at all times. Let that sink in. There is no such thing
as acting against your will. Ever. However onerous you may find the
act, yet, in acting you have chosen. However disgusting the thought,
yet you have chosen in thinking it. But thanks be to God, you and I
are being renewed in our minds, rewired in our spirits, so as to be
capable of better thoughts, better acts, and better will. We read it
not so very long ago, leading into these examples set before us. It
is God who is at work in you both to will and to
work according to His good pleasure (Php 2:13).
You can choose godliness. You can resist the urge
to participate in gossip and gainsaying and otherwise casting all
manner of doubt upon the man of God. Or, you can let your flesh
drive.
But the primary call here is not a call to action. It’s a call to
think. Let those who are such godly examples for you be truly loved
and highly regarded by you. Account them as fathers, or perhaps older
brothers, wise and willing to give sound counsel. Account them, at
the very least, as brothers well loved. Again, would you willingly
accept the unworthy slander of your brother, the fellow son of your
father and mother, whom you have known and loved from birth? I think
not! Would you blithely accept the attack on your sister? By no
means! Well, by no means ought we to accept such things in regard to
the man of God who faithfully serves to minister God’s word and God’s
example among us.
Barnes writes, “It is a Christian duty to honor
those who ought to be honored, to respect the virtuous and pious,
and especially to honor those who evince fidelity in the work of the
Lord.” I think the case has been made well enough that we
may recognize the truth of this. And if this is our duty, let us be
about it, both in the negative rejection of gossip and false witness,
and in the positive aspect of recognizing them with honor ourselves.
Give due respect to the virtuous man. Give honor to whom honor is
due. Let them know your appreciation. I think this must go beyond
the rather casual, “good sermon, pastor,”
at the end of service, though where it is so, this is certainly
acceptable. But I suspect the good pastor would be far more honored
by seeing the lives of his flock transformed and conformed to the
teaching of the Gospel. I suspect he will be the more honored by
actions undertaken in accord with that teaching than by empty words of
praise for his delivery.
Gratitude (06/27/25)
“Receive him with all joy.” This is the
express command of our passage. When good is done for us, receive it
with joy. When trials come, as they will, receive it with joy. I am
not talking about some form of insanity which takes pleasure in the
pain of trial. But in that you know that God remains fully in
control, and that He, being a good God, has good purpose in what he
brings your way, there is cause for joy. If God finds it necessary to
discipline, it is cause for joy. It is evidence of His love and
care. It is proof that He hasn’t given up on you. Rejoice! Learn.
But rejoice.
Here, however, the trial has not been so much a matter of
discipline. It has not even ben a matter of concern for personal
loss, any more than Epaphroditus’ distress was about his own health,
or some homesickness he was feeling. No, the trial has been one of
compassion, of heartfelt care and concern. And that holds for both
Epaphroditus, and for the Philippians back home. Care for one another
has run deep, and as such, the impact of his dire illness has been
less a matter of debilitating disease – after all, it does not appear
to have caused him to leave off his ministry – than it has been a
matter of concern to all and sundry.
Yet, look at the good this care has produced. There has been an
increase in prayerfulness on the part of his friends back home, and no
doubt on his own part as well. There has been the strengthening of
his perseverance, and the increased worth, we might say, of his
determined efforts on behalf of the gospel. And there has been that
much greater assurance of a warm welcome when in due course it is his
time to come home to his Lord.
The lesson here is awareness. When we pray, it is too often a tossed
off matter, perhaps undertaken because it felt an obligation, or
because we were told or asked to do so by someone and we don’t wish
them to think less of us. So, we work ourselves up in prayer, but
it’s little more than the showy display of the Pharisee. Mind how
Jesus responded to that behavior! This is not where you want to be.
But earnest prayer must sink deeper roots in us. Still, though, we
can become so caught up in our days that we become forgetful of what
we have prayed, and having forgotten the prayer, we fail to recognize
the answer.
“Let not that man expect to receive from the Lord
who is double-minded and unstable” (Jas
1:7-8). The call is to “ask in faith
without doubting” (Jas 1:6), and
to be sure, we are beset by doubts. I think much of the man who, upon
encountering Jesus and being informed that answer would surely come if
he believed, said, “I believe! But help my
unbelief” (Mk 9:24). That, my
friends, is an honest prayer. But believing, and helped in our
unbelief, let us seek that we might recognize the answer when it
comes, and it shall surely come, for God hears and God answers. His
answer may not be in the form of our expectation, and that can
certainly lead us to miss it, or even to dismiss it because it’s not
what we wanted. Far be it from us! God’s gifts are ever good and
perfect. God’s answers are ever the best answers, and He does
exceedingly and abundantly more than we even think to ask (Eph
3:20). There is a reason that prayer sometimes escapes our
capacity to frame it in words. It’s not that words don’t suffice.
It’s that the Holy Spirit within will not permit the errant prayer to
be heard in its errant form. He is an active filter upon our prayers,
rendering our sin-touched requests holy and right before they ascend
to the throne room of God.
I am wandering a bit, and that’s okay. I am driving towards this
point of recognizing and acknowledging the answers given to our
prayers. And what we ought most to recognize is that every answered
prayer is a gift. God is not required to respond. He is not, as some
genie out of a child’s tale, bound by our imploring request. He is
not bound by incantations. There is no formula by which we can pray
such that He must answer. Applying the ritualistic, “in
the name of Jesus,” to our prayer does not somehow serve to
ensure a positive reception and response. Rather, it ought to be a
reminder to us that all prayer is to be offered in His name, which is
to say, in accord with His will and purpose, not in pursuit of our own
selfish ends. Prayer is about kingdom business. If it is not, then
it is nearer idolatry than worship.
And when God answers, as He will because He chooses to do so, for the
love of us, for the love of His Son, for the love of Himself, ours is
to receive with depths of gratitude. Rejoice! God has been
gracious. God has given you the gift of an answer. And whether that
answer matches your expectations, or comes more as a surprising
response, it is good. It is a marvel. After all, why should He even
bother? As Job called out to God, “What is man
that You magnify him, that You are concerned about him?” (Job 7:17). David echoed the thought. “What
is man, that You give him a thought? That you care for him? Yet
you have made him but a little lower than God, and You crown him
with glory and majesty!” (Ps 8:4-5).
What a wonder! And this has been the testimony of the household of
God for ages, and will be so long as life continues. “In
my trouble I cried to the LORD, and He answered me” (Ps
120:1). Now, that answer may be in the form of, “My
grace is sufficient for you” (2Co 12:9),
but that is every bit as much an answer as the giving of what we
thought we needed. No is still an answer. Rejoice!
Rejoice because God answers. Rejoice because God’s answers, whatever
they may be, are the outflow of His grace towards you, of His love for
you. Recognizing His gracious answer, even if it disappoints certain
expectations, must produce in us an outflow of gratitude. Thank
You, Lord, for hearing. Thank You for answering according to Your
good and perfect wisdom. You know my need. I know only my want.
In this answer You have chosen for me, let me set myself to see Your
goodness, to perceive Your wisdom, and to magnify Your glory.
Matthew Henry writes, “What is given us in answer
to prayer should be received with great thankfulness and joy.”
To be sure, that clearly applies when we receive such answer as these
Philippians are to receive. They prayed hard for the preservation and
restoration of their Epaphroditus, and here he was, restored to them
hale and hearty. They prayed hard for the success of Paul’s ministry,
as well as sending along material support, and here was news of just
how successful he was being, even from his place of imprisonment! The
Gospel was going forth even into the very household of Caesar! Who
could have imagined that? Who had faith sufficient to truly believe
it possible? And yet, they prayed, and we must believe, prayed
earnestly, knowing that in God all things are possible. Knowing
that. Not just reciting it in hopes that maybe they might
sort of believe it a little, but knowing it.
Impossible does not apply. The word loses its meaning when it comes
into contact with God.
But when He answers, we have cause for thankfulness and joy. That
holds as much for the, “My grace is sufficient,”
response, as for the response that restores what was lost. Oh, we get
so excited when He restores what the locusts had eaten (Joel
2:25). But the hard providences, the answers that require us
to change directions, change our expectations, reshape our purposes?
Yes, there, too, there is cause for ‘great thankfulness and joy.
Does the day find you amidst trials that seem fit to overwhelm? Pray
and give thanks. Know that praying, you have received answer. Pray
then that you might perceive and appreciate the answer, whatever it
may be. Rejoice for God is with you. It may not feel that way, yet
it is so. It may feel like you are surrounded by sorrows. Yet, God
is with you. He does not give up and He does not let go. He
promises, “I am with you, even to the end of the
age” (Mt 28:20). Always.
You are in good hands. Rejoice. Be glad of every answer you receive,
and if you find no cause for gladness, consider, have you even been
asking?
Look, we can wrestle with the function and power of prayer. It can
seem a bit pointless, if God can do as He pleases without us – and he
can. Perhaps the primary purpose of prayer is not to cajole God into
action, nor even to prove us obedient to His command, which is, after
all, to pray without ceasing. Perhaps the greatest function of prayer
is to encourage our attention to how He answers, how He provides, how
He so constantly cares for us. Apart from prayer, it can begin to
feel like merest circumstance. Oh, things just happened to work out
well today, or perhaps, like my yesterday, things were nigh on
overwhelming, even if that was primarily to do with mundane matters of
employment activities. But with prayer, we become expectant, and
being expectant, we are more attentive. Now, if we may but become
more perceptive as well, that we might see His answers for what they
are, and not remain dismissive of the wonders unfolding all around us.
Lord, tune me to see Your hand. Tune me to better appreciate the
wonder of Your constant care for me. Let me not fall back into
being dismissive and thinking the days just continue on as they
always have and always will. Let me not be satisfied with the
satisfactions of the worldly – appreciative of Your handiwork, yes,
but satisfied? No. Let my satisfaction be in this: Knowing that
You are ever working, ever watching, ever keeping, correcting, and
guiding. And let my heart and my feet be swift to follow as You
guide. Let my mind and my tongue be swift to sing out in gratitude
for all You do. And may You have all the glory. Amen.