By Paul M. Sadler
"Paul and Timotheus, the servants of Jesus Christ, to all the saints in Christ Jesus which are at Philippi, with the bishops and deacons" (Phil. 1:1).
When Paul penned these words to the saints at Philippi he was sitting in a Roman prison waiting for a ruling on whether he would live or die. The apostle's life was precariously hanging in the balance for the sake of the gospel, as noted in his desire that Christ might be magnified in his body, "whether it be by life, or by death" (Phil. 1:20). This is a clear indication that the circumstances regarding his incarceration had changed dramatically.
Upon arriving at Rome the apostle was given a degree of liberty to come and go as he pleased while he pleaded his case, but contrary winds unexpectedly arose, placing his very life in jeopardy (Acts 28:30 cf. Phil. 2:17). Apparently the charge of defiling the Jewish temple was weak, at best, as far as Rome was concerned. Therefore, the Jews who accused him must have gone back to the accusation that Paul was the ringleader of an insurrection and crimes against the state. This was one of the three original false charges leveled against him at Caesarea, which the enemies of the gospel thought they could use against him more effectively at the throne of Caesar (Acts 24:5,6,12,13,18).
Of course, anyone who caused an uprising against Rome found himself staring into the face of death—a case in point would be Barabbas (Mark 15:6,7). These were serious charges that placed the apostle's life in peril, but his total reliance on the Savior enabled him to say: "For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain" (Phil. 1:21). Beloved ones, you, too, can weather the storm, if your life, like Paul's, is centered in Christ.
Paul's epistles are divided into two parts, which helps us to distinguish between his early and latter ministries. The pre-prison epistles of I & II Thessalonians, I & II Corinthians, Galatians, and Romans were written to the Church, the Body of Christ, during the Acts period. During the apostle's first Roman imprisonment, which marks the beginning of his latter ministry, he wrote Ephesians, Philippians, Colossians, Philemon, and Hebrews. Paul's letters to Timothy (I Timothy) and Titus were penned between his two Roman imprisonments when he was set free for a period of about one year (Titus 1:5 cf. 3:12; II Tim. 4:20). The apostle's second letter to Timothy was written at the end of his second Roman imprisonment just shortly before his martyrdom. The epistle to the Philippians then was written around 64 A.D. during the apostle's first Roman imprisonment.
There are three epistles that Paul wrote after the Acts period that form a trilogy of truth—Ephesians, Philippians, and Colossians. The letter to the Ephesians unfolds the truth of the Body of Christ and our relationship to Him as the Head of the Body (Eph. 1:22,23; 4:12,13). Philippians on the other hand emphasizes our fellowship with one another as members of His Body (Phil. 2:2-4). Finally, Colossians presents the Headship of Christ and His relationship to the Body (Col. 1:18-24). When this trilogy of truth is understood it will help us to more fully comprehend the occasion and theme of the letter.
There were three reasons the apostle was writing to the church at Philippi at this time. First, Paul wanted to convey his gratitude for their fellowship in the gospel, especially in regard to their generous support. Time and time again these saints had given sacrificially to the Lord's work, in spite of their poverty stricken condition (II Cor. 8:1-6). When other Grace Assemblies failed to support Paul financially, the Philippians stood in the gap and came to his aid.
"I thank my God upon every remembrance of you, always in every prayer of mine for you all making request with joy, for your fellowship in the gospel from the first day until now....Now ye Philippians know also, that in the beginning of the gospel, when I departed from Macedonia, no church communicated with me as concerning giving and receiving, but ye only. For even in Thessalonica ye sent once and again unto my necessity" (Phil. 1:3-5; 4:15,16).
While the apostle was enduring a terrible hardship at the time, he had a thankful heart, something we would all do well to remember. As it has been correctly said, "thanksgiving requires the recognition of the source." Thus, Paul thanked God who was the source of this physical blessing and expressed his gratitude to the saints at Philippi through whom God had supplied his need. As believers in Christ we are to give thanks in everything, even for fleas.
Corrie ten Boom in The Hiding Place relates an incident that taught her always to be thankful. She and her sister, Betsy, had just been transferred to the worst German prison camp they had seen, Ravensbruck. On entering the barracks, they found them extremely overcrowded and flea-infested.
That morning, their Scripture reading in I Thessalonians had reminded them to rejoice always, pray constantly, and give thanks in all circumstances. Betsy told Corrie to stop and thank the Lord for every detail of their new living quarters. Corrie at first flatly refused to give thanks for the fleas, but Betsy persisted, and Corrie finally yielded to her pleadings. During the months spent at the camp, they were surprised to find how openly they could hold Bible study and prayer meetings without guard interference. It was not until several months later that they learned the reason the guards would not enter the barracks was because of the fleas.1
Second, Paul took the occasion to acknowledge the suffering these saints were encountering for the cause of Christ. "For unto you it is given in the behalf of Christ, not only to believe on him, but also to suffer for His sake" (Phil. 1:29). These believers could identify with Paul's distress seeing that he, like they, stood in the defense and confirmation of the gospel. On the other hand, the apostle could sympathize with them as they suffered at the hands of numerous adversaries because they named the name of Christ (Phil. 1:28,29).
As we noted in our first lesson, Philippi was a corrupt Roman colony that had an undying allegiance to Caesar. By the time of this writing, Nero was considered a god throughout the empire. The residents of Philippi would have commonly referred to him as savior and lord at public events, an honor this tyrannical ruler most gladly received. Of course, the saints at Philippi believed that Christ was the true and living God; consequently, they were unwilling to pay homage to the emperor. Their refusal to call Caesar by the titles of lord and savior would have brought the wrath of the citizenry, and perhaps even Rome itself, upon these believers. As heavenly citizens, the loyalty of these dear saints at Philippi was to the Lord of heaven—He is Lord. The glorification of the Caesars could well have prompted Paul to remind believers, who suffer for His name's sake, of the coming universal subjugation of all unbelievers at the Great White Throne Judgment. In that day, every knee will bow and every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God the Father (Phil. 2:10,11).
Thirdly, the apostle took the opportunity to address the unrest that had arisen within the assembly among some of the brethren. Although this hadn't deteriorated to the point of major divisions such as we witness at Corinth, the possibility for this was undoubtedly a concern in the mind of Paul. This is confirmed by the apostle's challenge to be "likeminded," and to have the "same love" toward one another (Phil. 2:2). It is further substantiated by his admonitions to, "let nothing be done through strife or vainglory" (2:3), and to "do all things without murmurings and disputings" (2:14). (See also Phil. 4:2).
The frequent use of the word "all" in the epistle, which one author calls "a studied repetition," shows us it was the Lord's will that there be unity among them for the sake of the gospel. These internal disturbances had the potential of disrupting their fellowship with one another and destroying their testimony with those outside of the assembly. Many years ago I was speaking to an unbeliever about the things of the Lord when the name of a particular church inadvertently came up, to which he responded: "Oh, that church, you mean the one where they fight like cats and dogs!" All the tea in China wouldn't have convinced him that the problems had been resolved and he should consider attending some Sunday. Sadly, in his mind those Christians were fighting again!
There also seems to have been a group within the assembly at Philippi that had the view that they had arrived spiritually (Phil. 3:15). Paul uses his own Christian experience to let the wind out of the sails of those who thought they had attained to a state of perfection, that is, that they were complete for all practical purposes. The apostle shares these insightful words with those who thought too highly of themselves: "Not as though I had already attained, either were already perfect [complete]: but I follow after, if that I may apprehend that for which also I am apprehended of Christ Jesus. Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended..." (Phil. 3:12,13). After thirty years of faithfully preaching and studying the Word of God, Paul makes it perfectly clear that he himself had not attained, and he was the Apostle of the Gentiles who spoke face to face with the Lord of glory.
With so many general themes running through the Philippian letter, most commentators seem to struggle to assign a primary topic. After much consideration of the matter, we believe the Christ-centered life was the intended theme of the letter, which, as we will see, is highlighted in each chapter.
Chapter One:
"For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain" (Phil. 1:21).
Chapter Two:
"Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus" (Phil. 2:3-5).
Chapter Three:
"That I may know Him [Christ], and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, being made conformable unto His death" (Phil. 3:10).
Chapter Four:
"I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me" (Phil. 4:13).
While the apostle makes frequent references to "joy" in the epistle we feel it is a sub-theme to the Christ-centered life. We have chosen this order simply because "joy" is a fruit of our relationship with Christ. Here it is important to carefully distinguish between "joy" and "happiness." Happiness is always a product of your circumstances. For example, if you receive an unexpected bonus at the end of the year for a job well done, you're ecstatic or happy! Two months later when you are informed that your position is being phased out and you will need to find a new job, you suddenly find yourself devastated or unhappy.
Interestingly the believer in Christ can have joy in spite of the circumstances. Paul is a good example; he was sitting in a Roman prison cell facing death, and to add insult to injury, there were those envious of him that hoped to add affliction to his bonds, yet through it all he rejoiced. He writes: "Yea, and if I be offered upon the sacrifice and service of your faith, I joy, and rejoice with you all." Some believers when faced with adversity have trouble getting beyond the question, why me? They become so bitter that it spiritually disables them in their Christian life. Oftentimes they blame God for their poor decisions.
We can either choose to grovel in our own self-pity or rejoice in whatever state we may find ourselves. You see, joy flows from our confidence in God that He is working all things out according to the counsel of His will. If we are living a Christ-centered life we, too, can have an attitude of joy like the apostle, because we understand God is sovereign and in control of all things (Phil. 4:4-7). Another saint who applied this principle to her life was Fanny Crosby, who was left blind at the hands of an incompetent doctor when she was just six weeks old. She could have become bitter in her early years, but she chose to rejoice in the Lord regardless of her adversity. In her own words, she said concerning her blindness:
"It seemed intended by the blessed providence of God that I should be blind all my life, and I thank Him for the dispensation. If perfect earthly sight were offered me tomorrow I would not accept it. I might not have sung hymns to the praise of God if I had been distracted by the beautiful and interesting things about me."
The following biographical sketch is a touching tribute of her life that there is joy in serving Jesus.
The next time you sing an old, familiar hymn, look at the small print at the bottom of the page, and you probably will read the name of Fanny Crosby. Throughout her long career, she wrote more than 8,500 gospel songs and hymns, many of which are still popular today. "To God Be the Glory," "Praise Him, Praise Him," "Tell Me the Story of Jesus," "I Am Thine O Lord"—every song is a testimony of her love for Jesus Christ.
However, this gifted poet, who described her salvation experience as a "floodtide of celestial light," could not actually see light. In May of 1820, when she was six weeks old, she caught a cold, and her eyes became slightly inflamed. The regular physician in Putnam County, New York, was out of town, and a man posing as a doctor gave her the wrong treatment. Within days, her eyesight was destroyed, and the man fled town in a panic. Fanny was never bitter about the stranger's intervention. "I have not for a moment in more than eighty-five years felt a spark of resentment against him, because I have always believed...that the good Lord...by this means consecrated me to the work that I am still permitted to do."
Her devoted Christian parents raised Fanny to be a confident, happy child. She dressed herself, did her own hair, and had impeccable table manners. Known for being a mischief, Fanny spent as much time as possible climbing trees, riding horses, and playing practical jokes on her many friends. One of the strongest influences in Fanny's childhood was her grandmother. An intelligent and patient woman, she took Fanny on nature walks, describing every bud and leaf in meticulous detail. She exposed her to great literature and poetry. Most importantly, she read her long passages from the Bible every day.
Even with such attentive teaching, Fanny's thirst for knowledge was not satisfied; her mind was phenomenal. Before she was ten years old, she had memorized most of the New Testament and more than five books of the Old Testament. However, since schools at that time were not equipped to teach blind children, she was unable to receive a regular education. Fanny knelt with her grandmother beside her rocker and prayed: "Dear Lord, please show me how I can learn like other children." It wasn't long before her mother gave her the exciting news about an opportunity to attend the New York Institute for the Blind. Within the year, she was their best student and after graduation became a teacher. As she grew, poetry became her passion, and she filled every spare moment with writing verse. By the time Fanny was twenty, she was famous throughout New York and a sought-after speaker for poetry recitations and official ceremonies.
In spite of this popularity, she still felt something was missing from her life, and it took a severe cholera epidemic in 1849 to show her what that was. More than half of the students at the Institute died, one of them in her arms. After helping to nurse the sick for months, she almost succumbed to the disease herself and fled to the country. The deaths of those close to her shook Fanny greatly. Deep in her heart, she knew she was not ready to die. On November 20, 1850, Fanny knelt at the altar at a local revival and gave her heart to Jesus. Biographer Basil Miller tells her response: "For the first time I realized that I had been trying to hold the world in one hand and the Lord in the other," she said. Finally, the God of her grandmother had become real to her.
Her poetry immediately reflected this change in her heart, and songs of praise took the place of regular poems. When she met the Christian composer William Bradbury in 1864, the friendship was almost instantaneous. Bradbury furnished the tunes for many of Fanny's hymns; and though she worked with several composers, their partnership was the most enduring.
Fanny usually composed dozens of songs in her head before dictating them to a secretary, but no matter what she created, she used the same approach. The book More Than Conquerors tells what she said about her method: "It may seem a little old-fashioned, always to begin one's work with prayer, but I never undertake a hymn without first asking the good Lord to be my inspiration."
She had more speaking invitations than she could keep, and famous men such as President Polk called on her often. With so many friends and associates, she was never lonely. Then in 1858, God brought a special man into her life, the blind musician Alexander Van Alstyne. They were married forty-four years and had one child, who died in infancy. Even in her later years, Fanny stayed as busy as ever, and not just with song writing. Always on her heart were those less fortunate, and she volunteered much time at local ministries. Whenever someone approached her with a question or need, she witnessed to them one-on-one and shared the light of God's Word.
Fanny died peacefully in her home in Bridgeport, Connecticut, on February 12, 1915. The crowds at her funeral were a testimony to the wide-spread influence she had for the Lord. These words from one of her final hymns express the foremost hope of her life: "And I shall see Him face to face and tell the story—saved by grace."2
1. 1500 Illustrations for Biblical Preaching, Michael P. Green, Baker Book House, Grand Rapids, MI, pages 376,377.
2. IN TOUCH® Copyright © 1995-2005 In Touch Ministries®, ITM, Inc., Atlanta, GA, used with permission. All rights reserved. This content and more resources can be found on www.intouch.org.