Category Archives: Philippians

We all need good role models. That is, there is real value in having examples of what this life with Jesus is intended to look like.

Paul knows that. He calls to friends and followers of Jesus to find models who walk out the life in holy and healthy ways (as in Philippians 3:17). And that is why he mentions Timothy and Epaphroditus in writing to the Philippians.

After having invited those to whom he is writing to “have this attitude in yourselves which was in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 2: 5), and having explained the humble and self-giving mind-set that characterized Jesus’ life and death, Paul mentions two names: Timothy and Epaphroditus.

In an early post (“Living Commendably”), I introduced this idea of these two men serving as examples. Having extended such a seemingly high and lofty calling, it might be possible for the Philippians (and for us!) to insist that no one would really be able to live with Jesus’ attitude of heart and mind. And Paul probably knows we just might think such things, so he calls attention to a couple of guys who “get it.” In that early post, I highlighted what Paul commended in Timothy; here we need to look at Epaphroditus.

What did Paul see in him? What does he want the Philippians to notice? (You might want to read Philippians 2:25-30.)

Epaphroditus was sincere in his affection for them and for Jesus.

Epaphroditus was more concerned for the welfare of others than his own welfare. 

But there is one other remarkable thing that Paul states about Epaphroditus:

He came close to death for the work of Christ, risking his life to complete what was deficient in your service to me (2:30).

What is Paul saying here? Is he commending masochism? Of course not! Is he applauding Epaphroditus playing the role of a martyr? Certainly not.

He is saying that . . .

Epaphroditus valued service to Christ over his own well-being.

Epaphroditus was going to carry out his serving (in this case, for the Philippians with regard to Paul) to the nth degree.

In other words, Epaphroditus was going to be “all in” in this Christ-like life. He was not going to stop short of being and giving all for what most mattered. And in this, Epaphroditus was tasting the very kind of life that Jesus lived.

After all, Paul had just told the Philippians that Jesus himself served “to the point of death.” Paul affirmed that Jesus’ self-giving took him to the cross for the benefit and good of others. Paul insisted that Jesus was all in, did not stop short, of carrying out his own ministry of service on behalf of the Father on for our good.

Jesus went all the way. Epaphroditus, to the degree he could, empowered by the Spirit, went all the way. And Paul is simply pointing out: that’s the model!

I really don’t mind serving . . . within limits. I would like to minister to others . .. as long as it doesn’t cost me too much. I have experienced something of the joy of giving myself away . . . but typically still holding something “in reserve.” All too often and all too easily, I stop short. And then I wonder why my life in Jesus seems so different from the life Paul pictures, than the New Testament presents.

Maybe the only way to really experience the life of Jesus (who was all in, no stopping short) is to life all in, no stopping short, nothing held back.

I am going to think about trying that . . . if it doesn’t cost me too much.

What gets your attention? What elicits from you approval or praise for another? What do you commend in others?

I think that I tend to appreciate and express appreciation for the things I see in others that I have come to value. If I long to live frugally, I applaud another’s ability to maintain a budget and count pennies well. If raising kids well matters to me, I will sit up and take notice when others’ children are well-behaved and gracious and kind.

So, what does catch your attention? What do you commend? That will tell others–and clarify for yourself–what you value most.

I see this idea in Paul’s writings. In a previous post I reflected on Paul’s presentation of Timothy and Epaphroditus as two brothers who were, in fact, living with “this attitude which was . . . in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 2:5). It might seem that to live like Jesus is unattainable, but Paul offers tangible and real examples in two men that the Philippians knew. And what is worth noting are the things he commends.

I’m just thinking about Timothy, today. There’s enough there to serve as food for thought. Paul notes:

He is genuinely concerned for the welfare of others (Philippians 4:20).

He intentionally pursues Jesus’ agenda and not his own (Philippians 4:21).

He has lived consistently enough to have “proven worth” (Philippians 4:22).

Paul commends these things because they are what Paul, himself, values. And Paul values these things because they are the kinds of things that enable someone–in this case, Timothy–to share in Jesus’ life. I wonder if Paul were writing about me whether he could or would say such things.

This morning I was talking with a good friend about how we live out this life with Jesus and how easy it is to pull back from genuinely giving ourselves in compassionate care for others. That’s just so . . . messy! To really care for another will lead to involving myself in their struggles, getting under their load, setting aside my rationalizations as to why I am too busy to partner with them in their need. In short, to really care would move me out of my complacency and self-seeking and draw me into their lives. So, I am not sure that Paul would commend me for genuinely caring for others. I care conditionally.

But I do want–often, occasionally, sometimes–to live for Jesus. I am interested in the things He values and prioritizes . . . some times, most of the time, on my good days. But as I think about that, I tend to give myself to the pursuit of Jesus’ agenda when it just happens to coincide with my own agenda. That is, I am glad to give myself to what Jesus wants as long as I have pre-qualified what He wants as something that falls in line with what I already have decided I want. So, I am not sure Paul would commend me for diligently seeking after what Jesus wants. I seek self-servingly.

And the result is that I have a somewhat mixed track record; it’s not that there is no evidence of the work of grace in my life. I think that, by His doing, there are things in me and in my life that are evidence of His presence. But “proven worth”? That might be a bit iffy. I am sporadic; I move forward in this life in a jerky, spasmodic way. And I think that has a tendency to undermine the “proven-ness;” the lack of consistency raises questions about what really has been “proven.” So, I am not sure Paul would commend me for my evident and settled worth. I meander.

Well, what then? Having seen Paul’s picture of Timothy and heard his commendation, what should I do? Throw up my hands and confess that I am not a Timothy (nor a Paul . . . nor am I seemingly very good at living like Jesus)? I don’t think that is what Paul intended (nor the Spirit intended) for either the Philippians or for us.

I think the commendation of Timothy is a way of holding out to us an invitation. Knowing that God is at work in us to bring to completion what he has started (Philippians 1:6; 2:12-13), Paul is just reminding us of where God is taking us.

He is drawing us, by grace and through the Spirit and because of Jesus, into a life of genuine compassionate care for others. And God is drawing us, by grace and through the Spirit and because of Jesus, into a life that is purposefully and fully caught up with what is at the center of Jesus’ own life. And God is drawing us, by grace and through the Spirit and because of Jesus, into a consistency and steadfastness that we will grow more and more to give evidence of his work in us. 

That is what God is doing. And that is commendable!

As reflected in earlier posts on Philippians, Paul invites the believers in Philippi to a wonderful and high calling: Have the same mind, the same attitude about life and loving, that Jesus did (Phil. 2:1-8). The invitation is not simply to do the kinds of things that Jesus did (which could be reduced in the minds of some to doing “random acts of kindness”), but to genuinely experience such transformation through the Spirit that one comes to think–to approach life–the way Jesus did and does. It’s about thinking like Jesus thinks, and valuing what Jesus values, and living for the things Jesus lives for. And that is a staggering thought.

Having extended this invitation, Paul encourages these followers and friends of Jesus to give themselves entirely to this call (Phil. 2:12-15). He really expects that they not only will want to live this way, but because God is the one who is working in and through them, they will be able to live this way (Phil. 2:13). And that is a provocative idea.

I wonder if those who first heard those words have the same reaction that I do . . . “I could never live that way!” I find myself saying things like . . .

How could anyone ever expect to really live like Jesus?

There is just so much “stuff” in me . . . I will never get there.

It seems like an impossibly high calling–it’s beyond my reach.

But then my eyes fall on the next few verses. And I hear Paul speak of Timothy and Epaphroditus. They are men personally unfamiliar to me, although they would have been known to the Philippians. And what catches my attention is how Paul describes them.

He says of Timothy (Phil. 2:19-24) that he “will genuinely be concerned for [their] welfare” and that he does not “seek after [his] own interest” but “[the interests] of Christ Jesus” and that he faithfully served with Paul. He writes of Epaphroditus (Phil. 2:25-29) that he cared for others to the point of deep longing and that he labored “to the point of death” for the benefit of others and that he “risked his life to complete what was lacking” when it came to loving service.

So, what is Paul doing? He is reminding the Philippians (and, in doing that, pointing out to us) a couple of men who, in fact, were growing to live the very kind of self-giving, others-focused, Jesus-like life that Paul was calling for. He presents two “case studies” of people–flesh and blood, real human, just-like-us, people–who were coming to live lives characterized by “having this attitude in themselves that was just like the attitude of Jesus Himself” (to paraphrase Phil. 2:5).

What this means is that my insistence that “I could never” grow to live the kind of Jesus-influenced life Paul holds out to us is just not true. The invitation is not hollow, it is not beyond reach, it is not unattainable. It just may be that all too few of those who know and follow Jesus really come to grasp that Jesus’ intention really is that we grow up to think like him, value what he values, live for what he lives for, live the way he lived . . . and still lives!

Paul extends the invitation–rooted in Jesus’ own call. Maybe it’s time to stop insisting that “I could never . . . “

Paul’s life was hardly an easy lot. From the very beginning of his journey with Jesus, he faced hardship, opposition, persecution, challenges. He was no stranger to how hard things can be for one who follows Jesus–and yet he seems to overflow with joy.

In his letter to the Philippians, that is clear. Although he is not where he’d like to be (after all, who wants to be in prison, forgotten and overlooked?!), he still writes to friends to share his joy with them and encourage them in joyful, Jesus-focused living. Amazing!

Part way through chapter two, after writing about living life in a Jesus-way and noting that such living is possible because God moves in the souls of Jesus followers to provide both the impetus and the empowerment for such living, Paul encourages his readers to live such a life without grumbling. In other words: Stop griping about the challenge of living out this life and embrace it as a gift from God and get on with it!

But notice what else he adds to the end of this encouragement:

Do all things without grumbling or disputing; so that you will prove yourselves to be blameless and innocent, children of God above reproach in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom you appear as lights in the world, holding fast the word of life . . . (Philippians 2:14-16)

Paul’s so honest about life. He says that (even in his day) this world can sure be crooked and perverse. The first word is the root from which we get the English word “scoliosis” (referring to curvature of the spine). It means twisted, bent out of proper shape. The second word speaks of something that distorted resulting in an image or a path that is all wrong. What a description of how life, at times, appears: all bent out of shape and distorted so that life doesn’t make sense.

And how does Paul think the Philippians (and, for that matter, all friends of Jesus) are going to live lives that are holy and blameless in that kind of setting? He suggests that part of what enables us to live such “children of God” kind of lives is as we “hold fast the word of life.”

The “word of life” is one way that Paul speaks of the Gospel–the truth of what God has done and is doing in the world through the life, death, resurrection, ascension, and glorification of Jesus, the Son. The Gospel is God’s plan to rescue sinful people and make them into his own children. That is the word of life.

But Paul says that the followers of Jesus need to “hold fast” the word of life. What does that mean?It’s an interesting expression; the verb doesn’t appear often in New Testament.

A great picture that conveys the sense of the word is found in Acts 3:5. There the word is used to speak of what a lame man did as Peter and John passed by, thinking that he might receive something from them. He “latched onto” them; this was not casual glance. The man clung to PEter and John in anticipation, he held fast, he gave them his full and undivided attention. 

And Paul tells us that a significant part of how we survive and thrive in a world that distorted and twisted is by latching on to the Gospel message that is the real word of life.

When the going gets tough (and, really, it always is), then the followers of Jesus cling even more tenaciously, intentionally, and consciously to the message of truth, the word of life, the glorious good news of what God is doing in and through our friend and Savior, Jesus.

I know that when I feel the toughness of life, I do want to hold on to something. But often, I end up latching on to things that are not really going to help me. Maybe I tighten my grip on my possessions, thinking they will provide me security. Perhaps I latch on to power or reputation, hoping that my sense of self will weather the storm. It differs from trouble to trouble, but like all of us I look for something that will be dependable in the midst of a twisted and broken world.

And Paul’s words come back to me. The invitation to live out Jesus’ kind of life is attractive. And a significant way to give in to that kind of life and live well in the midst of a twisted and broken world is to get an unyielding grip on the truth of the Gospel.

So, what are you holding on to today?

It has become a more complex problem, selecting light bulbs for the light fixtures around home. The choices have become multiplied! There are different kinds of light (some more “natural” others “warmer”), they draw different amounts of electricity while still insisting they give similar amounts of light, some are supposedly more ecologically friendly . . . it’s hard to just go in and get a “sixty-watt bulb” these days. But what that reminds me is that there are a variety of components that go into making light what it is.

Paul tells the Philippians that they are “light.” Specifically, they “appear as lights in the world” (Philippians 2:15). He states this after inviting them to embrace a life fully given over to Jesus’ way of life.

It seems that Paul is saying that because they belong to Jesus, because they have come to share his life, they are, in fact, lights in the world. But he in calling them to give themselves more intentionally to this life. Why? Perhaps to cultivate their “light-ness.”

As I listen to Paul’s words, it seems to me he touches on a number of things that hinder might hinder my “light-ness.” He writes:

Do all things without grumbling or disputing; so that you will prove yourselves to be blameless and innocent, children of God above reproach in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom you appear as lights in the world, holding fast the word of life . . . (Philippians 2:14-16)

So, when in the midst of the challenges of life, as I am growing into this life Jesus shares with me, when I grumble and complain, my “light-ness” is diminished. When the way I handle living in relationship with others is more about me than about Jesus, I can appear to be little more than a dim bulb . . . the light is not shining very brightly. It isn’t evident that I am a child of God and that Jesus is working his life out in and through me when all that is coming out of mouth is the kind of bickering and complaining that those who don’t know Jesus are all too familiar with.

But it is not just my demeanor that might get in the way of my “light-ness.” Paul refers to ”holding fast the word of life.” The expression “word of life” in Paul’s writings is a reference to the Gospel–the message of truth about who Jesus is and what he came to do in rescuing people from their sin and bringing them in to life with God. And when I do not hold on to the message of the Gospel tightly–holding fast the word of life–than my “lightness” diminishes. I might be relatively free from grumbling, but if the message being broadcast from my lips and my life isn’t focused clearly on Jesus and who he is and what he has done and what he is doing, than I can appear to be little more than a dim bulb . . . the light is not shining very clearly.

This world in which we live is a dark place. Jesus intends to draw people out of the darkness and into his life. And those who already know him are privileged to be lamps, lights, that help others move from darkness into that light. And we share in that by being–by his grace and through his Spirit–”light.”

When I spend my days grumbling, it’s hard for others to see what I live for. The light is dim. When I am bitter about how Jesus is shaping me to love and care for others, it’s hard for others to see that there is a different kind of life available. The light is dim. When I “buck up” and live without real complaint but without any real message of life, no one sees in and through my life a witness to the light they so desperately need. The light is dim.

I don’t want to be a dim bulb. I want to live in a way that enlightens the world around me. So . . .

Enough of the grumbling. Enough with the pushing against what Jesus is doing. And more of making much of Jesus who is doing this incredible thing in me of making me like him!

I am staggered when I really catch a glimpse of just what it is that God is doing in and through and for people. That God is even interested in “messing with” our lives is amazing; but that he does such good and gracious and kind and wise things . . . it can take my breath away.

It seems to me that such thoughts often must have gone through Paul’s mind. He finds such outrageous and deep and carry-me-away kind of joy in Jesus because of what God is doing in and through him. Just contemplating the grace of God that reaches him–reaches us–in and through Jesus seems to stir waves of joy in Paul.

That’s a bit of what I taste when I read Philippians. I hear and see and savor Paul’s joy in Jesus . . . and I long to experience if for myself all the more. And, because of God’s work in us, we can.

Paul says that God, having begun this amazing transformative work in us, will bring it to completion (Phil. 1:6). And he explained that as we give ourselves to a Jesus-kind of life, the transformation does not come because of our effort or competency or spiritual acumen; we are transformed because God, himself, is working in us to produce both the longing and the outcome (Phil. 2:12-13).

We are undergoing grace-based, Jesus-produced, Spirit-empowered, Gospel-centered, God-glorifying transformation. All who have come to Jesus to find life are undergoing a life transformation by his doing. Amazing. And in the process, how do we live?

Well, for me, at times it is clear that I really don’t “get it.” I lose sight of what God is doing. And you know how I know (and how others who know me know)? It becomes evident in my grumbling.

Having recounted the life-saving journey and sacrifice of Jesus to rescue us (Phil. 2:1-11) and having invited us into a participation in that life and having affirmed to us that our being transformed into partners in that life is God’s gracious doing, Paul then writes:

Do all things without grumbling or disputing; so that you will prove yourselves to be blameless and innocent, children of God above reproach in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom you appear as lights in the world . . . (Philippians 2:14-15)

Paul calls us to live like Jesus. He tells us God is working to reproduce Jesus’ own servant-character in us. He cheers us on to give into that process because God is working it in and through us. And then he says . . . “So, stop griping!”

Such a needed word! In my heart of hearts, I really do want to grow up to look like Jesus. I can think of no more glorious or wonderful ”destination” than to share in the life and ministry and character of the Beloved of God. But just as God begins to shape and mold, nudge and press, trim and change what doesn’t quite look like Jesus in me, I wince and complain, I whine and grumble.

But Paul says that if I would only get on with living this life “without grumbling” I would “prove” to be a child of God. So does that mean that we, somehow, “earn” our standing as children of God by maintaining a good attitude? Of course not. Adoption into God’s family comes by grace through Jesus alone. We are his children by his doing, not our own.

The idea behind the word “prove” is not “make to be” but closer to “show to be.” We don’t make ourselves to become the beloved children of God by refraining from grumbling as God is transforming us, but we do make it evident that we are, in fact, his children when we graciously embrace and welcome his re-creating us in Jesus’ image without all the griping.

If we really believe that we are his, if we really embrace his love for us, if we really understand that Jesus has made us accepted and acceptable before God, if we really grasped that what he is doing is making us “better” by reproducing the character of the Son in us, than no matter what comes into our lives, whatever comes our way, we would “do all things without grumbling.” We wouldn’t complain about how poorly we are being treated but would like for the opportunity, in every moment, to yield to life-changing grace. 

We are his children by Jesus’ doing. And the proof? What “testifies” to our status as children? When we embrace the life he is working in us without grumbling.

I can remember the few times when I was on the receiving end of someone’s service or kindness and, when thanked, they replied, “It was my pleasure” or “I was glad to do it!” Such a response tells me that what was done, although it had me in view, was not done out of duty or obligation but for the real joy the one serving had in serving. To speak of doing something because “it was my pleasure” must mean that there is a free delight in the doing and that what is done genuinely flows from the character and heart of the server. (That is, of course,  as long as such words are genuine and sincere and are not merely “learned behavior.”)

This thought crossed my mind this morning as I was reflecting on why God does what he does in our lives, in my life. Why is it that he sent his son to die, pours out his Spirit into my soul, patiently tolerates my slowness and stubbornness, faithfully pursues me and draws me toward himself? Is God obligated, in some sense, to do this? Must he do this because, someone, my mere existence demands that he act this way? Or . . .

My thoughts turned back to Philippians. Paul is writing about how God continues to be at work in the lives of those who have given over in faith to lives centered on Jesus. And Paul writes:

Work out your salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who is at work in you, both to will and to work for [His] good pleasure. (Philippians 2:13)

And there it is! God is at work “in you . . . for his good pleasure.” God is doing what he is doing–in transforming grace and goodness–for his good pleasure. He does what he does in my life, in our lives, because it pleases him to do so.

This language is not found many places in the New Testament; the expression does appear a number of times in Paul’s letters. For example, Paul writes, in Ephesians 1:5, that God has undertaken to make us his children because of his good pleasure; he does this because it pleases him to do so.

I am not even sure that I can quite grasp the magnitude and wonder of this. But as I begin to see it, there is such a taste of freedom and joy and peace.

If God does what he does in my life because I am proving to be valuable or because I am measuring up or because he needs the help or because . . . well, because of what I contribute, in any way, to his pleasure and satisfaction . . . then when I fail at proving to be valuable or fall short of measuring up or am ineffective at helping him out, the risk is that he will stop working in and through me. I have become unprofitable.

But if God does what he does in completing what he has begun in us (Philippians 1:6) and continuing to be active in transforming grace because it is his genuine pleasure and delight to do so, then he will keep on doing it! That is, as long as he is faithful to himself (which he will forever be), then he will do what pleases him. And what pleases him is to extend himself to be at work in us. He will pursue me and love me, he will serve us and draw us and woo us, he will pour out his Spirit in the lives of those who are his and will guide them by his Word, because he is glad to do it.

Such pleasure! Such grace! Such a God!

I see it in my own life. I hear it from others. I watch fellow disciples wrestle. We want to grow. We want to grow in our experience of life with Jesus. We want to come to understand more about the God who loves us and to grasp, in a tangible and palpable way, how to keep in step with the Spirit.

And it is when I am at the growing edge of life, when we face those moments and opportunities that take us beyond what is already familiar and manageable, that we balk, that I hesitate.

Hearing, or reading, or knowing, or sensing what it just might be that Jesus wants for me, I resist. And I tell myself (and others who might be listening!), “I just can’t do it. It’s not in me.”

Like the woman I spoke with who told me she didn’t know it was “in her” to really love her husband. Or the friend who talked about not knowing whether it was “in him” to step into a fresh opportunity for serving. Or the young man who was struggling with whether he was up to finding some kind of regular pattern of time with Jesus because he wasn’t sure it was “in him” to do so.

When faced with challenges in growing–even when we truly want to grow–we often take an internal spiritual thermometer reading and conclude, “Nope! Not in me. Don’t see it. Not there. I guess there won’t be any growth this time.”

But as common as that response might be, it really overlooks a staggering insight–a truth that could actually open the door for transformative living.

Paul begins to unpack this idea in his letter to the Philippians, as he explains how it is that they are to live like Jesus. In Philippians 2, Paul lays before them the picture of how Jesus lived. And he tells them that they (and we!) are to live in the same way.

Of course you can hear them say back to Paul: “”Nope! Not in me. Don’t see it. Not there.” They might look at themselves and what they “bring to the table” and conclude they just aren’t up for this “living like Jesus.” And then Paul writes:

Work out your salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who is at work in you, both to will and to work for [His] good pleasure. (Philippians 2:13)

He isn’t calling them to get “more saved.” The idea of “working out your salvation” is more about getting into it, living it out, inclining yourself to what is–it’s not about earning or meriting or achieving salvation. But then comes the insight.

God is at work in you. He intends to provide both the willing and the working; both the internal “umph” and the necessary “ugh” for you to grow. All that is missing for growth, in some sense, is an inclination to give in to that.

“Nope! Not in me. Don’t see it. Not there.” Well of course not–not in and of yourself! But God is there, by his Spirit and because of Jesus. And if we just give in to his invitation to growth, we might really be surprised by the power of his willingness in us and the effectiveness of his enablement.

Growth comes, not by trying harder to do what you don’t think you can do, but by admitting that apart from his grace growth won’t come. And then, giving in to that grace; taking God at his word that he will provide both the willing and the working for growth. Growth comes by giving in.

In the book of Malachi, the last Old Testament prophet, the Sovereign God says a startling thing–he tells the people to stop bringing sacrifices to the Temple. What catches my attention when I read this is that it was God who told them to bring the sacrifices in the first place. So, what does God really want? Does he want the sacrifices or not?

At issue in Malachi is the way that worshippers were bringing their worship, bringing their sacrifices. It was (and still is) possible to worship wrongly. Those being addressed by Malachi were bringing sacrifices, but their hearts were not in it; they were only going through the motions, so God said stop bringing the sacrifices. You can approach God, even doing what he commanded, in a wrong way.

I believe that the same is true about obedience. It is possible to obey God in a right way, and it is possible to obey God in a wrong way. One way honors God and leads to his receiving glory; and the wrong way fails to honor God rightly and tends to have the “obey-er” in focus.

It seems that this must be some of the truth that forms the foundation for Paul’s exhortation to the followers of Jesus in Philippi. He has presented to them the example of Jesus. He longs for them to grow up into spiritual maturity to “look like” Jesus. Having painted that picture in the first part of chapter two of his letter to the Philippians, he writes:

So then, my beloved, just as you have always obeyed, not as in my presence only, but now much more in my absence, work out your salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who is at work in you, both to will and to work for [His] good pleasure. (Philippians 2:12-13)

At first read, it seems clear that Paul wants to see obedience flowing out of the life of these friends of his. But, it is crucial for them (and for us) to understand just what that obedience is.

The obedience, the giving of oneself to this Jesus-like life, is not a self-help effort. This is not the obedience that comes from self-effort, the obedience that “tries hard” to please God or to earn his favor or to maintain one’s status before God or men. This is not an obedience rooted in what I think I can do or what I think I can muster up. All such efforts at obedience would, ultimately, be efforts to put myself (my obedience) on display in one way or another.

Paul says that this obedience–the obedience  that flows from “working out” the reality of our salvation in our daily living–is rooted in what God is doing in the soul. And what is it that God does?

He is both working (that is, providing the enablement) and willing (that is, providing the willingness) in order for us to live this way. This means that this obedience is an obedience that flows in life from the transforming power of God’s grace. This obedience is a way of life that flows out of us “because of” rather than “in order to.” That is, we live the way we do because of what God himself is doing in us, not in order to get God to approve, or applaud, or support, or embrace us.

There is a right way to think of obedience and a wrong way to think of obedience. Obedience that is the giving in to what God himself is undertaking in our souls is like jumping in the river and going with the flow. That is the right way to think of obedience.

This is “help-ful obedience”–obedience that flows out of life because we are full of God’s gracious help to live in such radically different ways.

Paul has found a root for real joy. In his letter to the Philippians he explains it for all who read. Joy, for Paul, is found in anchoring his life in Jesus. That is, for Paul “to live is Christ” (Phil. 1:21). Having relationship with Jesus Christ, Paul has what he most desires. And when we have what we want most, we experience joy. So, Paul is laying out for us the foundation for his joy.

As he does this, he invites others to join him in this joy. He wants us to become co-experiencers with him. The joy he has, he shares with us in and through this letter (Phil. 2:17). And part of how that joy is experienced is by embracing the very kind of life that Jesus himself lived.

In the second chapter, Paul calls all those who have entered into friendship with Jesus to “think his thoughts,” in a sense. (“Have this attitude in yourselves which was also in Christ Jesus;” Phil. 2:5.) If we want to experience Jesus’ life, we will have to give ourselves to Jesus’ attitude and approach to life (as has been touched on in several previous posts).

But having laid out Jesus’ humble and servant-oriented and self-giving mindset, and having called us to embrace this attitude of heart and mind, Paul calls us to clear and specific action:

So then, my beloved, just as you have always obeyed, not as in my presence only, but now much more in my absence, work out your salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who is at work in you, both to will and to work for [His] good pleasure. (Philippians 2:12-13)

Just what does Paul mean by “work out your own salvation”? Is he, in some way, arguing that we either enter into spiritual life, into life eternal, through our own efforts or that we maintain and keep our spiritual life, life eternal, by or through our own efforts? I don’t think so. That is so very contrary to all that Paul says about the “giftedness” of eternal life (Ephesians 2:8-9).

The language rendered “work out your own salvation” here doesn’t mean to “work for” or “work to keep.” Then what does Paul mean? He uses very nearly identical language in Romans 5:3 where he wrote about tribulation working or bringing about patience in us. The idea is one of bringing something to its full and complete end: Trials are the means and context for bringing patience to fullness in us. Thus, in Philippians, the idea is more one of giving ourselves to the work of grace Jesus is doing in us so that his intended end is achieved in us.

To put it another way, drawing on the context in Philippians where these words appear, we might say: Vigorously give yourself to this humble servant attitude modeled by Jesus so that your salvation can come to full fruition, reproducing in you the character of Jesus himself.

How can we be sure that this is not about our “working to obtain” or “laboring to keep” our salvation? Just notice what Paul says about the grounds for our “working out” our salvation. He says we are to “work out” this salvation because it is God who is producing in us both the will to live in such a fashion and the enablement or power to live that way. God provides both the longing to live life like Jesus as well as the enablement to do so. And what Paul is calling for is a vigorous embracing of that work of God in and through us.

The example is there, in Jesus. The longing to follow that example is there, by God’s doing. And the necessary strength and enablement is also amply provide, by God himself.

I want to give myself to that. I don’t want to hold back. I want to energetically and purposefully pursue growing up to share Jesus’ life . . . embracing and making mine all this grace that God is pouring in and through me.