Philippians 1:15-18
When I was young I thought that people a few thousand years ago were not very intelligent and that in the Middle Ages, which used to be called the Dark Ages, they were called that because people were not very bright. I thought that each generation became more intelligent until we arrived at where we are today. This of course made me more intelligent than my parents but I am not sure I thought that.
Years later, after I became a follower of Jesus and was reading the Bible for the first time in my life, I was amazed at how intelligent Paul was. The arguments Paul makes in his letters are amazing. He took the birth, death, and resurrection of Jesus and helped us to understand the significance of what Jesus had accomplished. Jesus charged Paul with the task of taking the gospel, the good news of Jesus, to the Gentile world and in the process, he translated the gospel into the culture of the Greco-Roman world.
When I read Paul’s letter to the church in Rome I realized that Paul today would be among the most intelligent humans alive. I don’t believe each generation is more intelligent than the one before it. (Could this be because I am now a grandfather?) We have more information than Paul did but we are not more intelligent.
At any rate, I admired Paul primarily for his intelligence. This changed about fifteen years ago when I read Walter Wangerin’s book, Paul, A Novel. This book put flesh and blood on Paul and I began to see him as a man with a heart as big as his intellect. This book changed the way I read the Bible and changed the way I preach from the Bible. The characters in the Bible were flesh and blood men and women who felt the same emotions we feel.
In this book, different people take turns telling about their experience with Paul and I want to read a couple sections of the book to help us see Paul as a flesh and blood man. Here is an account of Barnabas telling about the first time Paul – Saul – ate pork, a food forbidden for Jews to eat.
Barnabas
About five years ago, shortly after I had invited Saul to Antioch, we were crossing Herod Street when suddenly he turned aside to one of those cook-shops that sell roasted meats by the slice. We had been discussing freedoms. I was telling him of the two times in my life when I’d felt such a glad rush of freedom that I thought I would explode. The first was when I sold my land and all my possessions, and laid the proceeds at the feet of the apostles. I panted as I did that, experiencing a physical lightness, as if I could float like thistledown.
My second discovery of freedom came more gradually, here in Antioch, where the Apostles had sent me to exhort the Antiochene believers in faithfulness. The great majority of believers were Gentiles. Already when I came, distinctions were disappearing. No longer were there “God-fearers” and “proselytes” among the Gentiles; no longer non-Jew and Jew, higher and lower, freeman and slave. Everyone who followed Christ as Lord was the same as every one else, equal – a family! Even the Romans noticed our amazing unity. They classed us and named us “Christians.” Pretty soon all the laws that had separated Jews from Gentiles also became as nothing to me, and that was my second experience of the lightness of freedom.
I told Saul that it caused in me such a giddiness – such a physically tickling joy – that laughter was always bubbling just below my throat. Always, always! is what I was saying to Saul – when suddenly he turned aside to a cook-shop, raised one long finger, and pointed at a piglet revolving on a spit, its fat flaring in the coals below.
“One small portion, please,” he said.
A woman with huge arms cut him the smallest of portions and laid it on a green leaf and accepted his penny for her food.
I fell silent. I had never seen this before. And though I delighted in our new freedoms, what Saul was doing seemed as risky as stepping off a cliff.
He pinched the pork in its folded leaf and with two delicate fingers pulled off a greasy piece. He carried the meat to his mouth, crossing his eyes as it came. He put out his tongue and touched the bit of pig to the tip of it, where it stuck. Then, scarcely breathing, Saul drew the meat into his mouth and chewed and chewed and swallowed it. He blinked rapidly – checking, it seemed, his vitals inside. Then he grinned and plucked at my sleeve and began to laugh. A gasping sort of laughter, like a man who jumped but did not drown.
The little Pharisee had eaten pork.
The transition Saul/Paul made from strict obedience to the law to the freedom he found in Christ did not come instantly and without difficulty and I love this story because it helps to think of Paul as a man, not just an intellect.
Did Paul and Barnabas have this experience? Probably not, but the story helps us to think about how it was for Paul to make the transition from being a Pharisee who strictly obeyed the law to being a follower of Jesus who was set free from the oppression of the law.
When we read the letters of Paul and the accounts of Paul in the Book of Acts we can miss what we are reading by not thinking of Paul as a flesh and blood man. When we think of Paul as a man, we understand more clearly what he wrote in his letters.
Elliot preached last week about Paul being in prison and why he viewed this in a positive light. We come this morning to a verse that impresses me deeply. (Philippians 1:18)
But what does it matter? The important thing is that in every way, whether from false motives or true, Christ is preached. And because of this I rejoice.
I have mentioned this in recent sermons. When I preached from Matthew 23 on Palm Sunday, I talked about Paul as an example of a servant-leader. In the introduction to the letter to the church in Philippi I mentioned this verse as a key verse. So what I will say may not be new to you, but I hope the lesson learned from Paul will go deep into our hearts and minds.
In order to tell you why this verse makes such an impression on me, let me paint a picture of Paul’s situation. Paul was fifty-six years old when he wrote this letter to the church in Philippi. It had been twenty-nine years since he was on the road to Damascus, coming to persecute the followers of Jesus. It had been twenty-nine years since he himself had been converted to be a follower of Jesus.
Paul had been busy in those twenty-nine years. He spent thirteen years in study and preparation for the calling God had in mind for him. And then Paul made three missionary journeys through what is today Turkey and Greece. These were not short-term trips. They lasted two, three and five years. Paul went from town to town speaking out in synagogues and public streets about Jesus, starting churches and then writing letters to encourage the churches he had started.
Paul did this at the cost of great personal sacrifice. Paul gave up the right to have a wife, a family, and a comfortable life. He devoted himself to sharing the good news of Jesus throughout the Gentile world. That was the call he received from Jesus on the road to Damascus and he never forgot it. He worked tirelessly. Was there anyone who worked harder than Paul did to spread the good news of Jesus and build the church? Paul poured his life into this task given him by Jesus.
What had this cost him? Aside from the comforts of life he might have known, Paul suffered physically. Five years earlier, at the age of 51, he wrote what we know as II Corinthians. In the course of this letter, he described his credentials. (II Corinthians 11:23-29)
I have worked much harder, been in prison more frequently, been flogged more severely, and been exposed to death again and again. 24 Five times I received from the Jews the forty lashes minus one. 25 Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was stoned, three times I was shipwrecked, I spent a night and a day in the open sea, 26 I have been constantly on the move. I have been in danger from rivers, in danger from bandits, in danger from my own countrymen, in danger from Gentiles; in danger in the city, in danger in the country, in danger at sea; and in danger from false brothers. 27 I have labored and toiled and have often gone without sleep; I have known hunger and thirst and have often gone without food; I have been cold and naked. 28 Besides everything else, I face daily the pressure of my concern for all the churches. 29 Who is weak, and I do not feel weak? Who is led into sin, and I do not inwardly burn?
I have scars on my body from cutting myself with a piece of glass, having a car door shut on my finger, and more strangely, teeth marks on my upper arm from having been bitten by a donkey.
Where were the scars on Paul’s body? What did his body look like? There is a famous picture of a black slave in the American south who had been whipped multiple times. His back was a mass of scars on scars. This is what Paul’s back looked like, but in addition to his scars, he had been stoned and left for dead and he had been beaten with rods three different times.
In Walter Wangerin’s book: Paul, A Novel, he talks about Pricilla and Timothy and finally Luke, the doctor, having to massage and oil Paul’s back each day in order for him to be able to walk with a minimum of pain and in order that his back with scars upon scars would not crack open and bleed. Let me read a bit from Wangerin’s book. In this section, Paul is staying in Corinth at the home of Aquila and Priscilla. Early in the morning, before the sun rose, Priscilla heard Paul call her to come down from the loft to help him.
Paul was leaning awkwardly against the edge of the worktable. His back and torso were twisted to an impossible angle. He seemed fixed that way.
“Paul?”
A single lamp flame burned on the table. It cut horrible scoops of shadow in the man’s neck and throat and face. His head was caught at an extreme tilt, thrusting his jawbone out like that of a battlefield corpse.
“Paul?”
“Priscilla,” he said without turning or moving, “I can’t do this alone. Please. Be Timothy for me.”
Priscilla. No one had called me Pricilla before. Little Prisca, tenderly making me a precious thing.
“Let me lean on you,” he growled. “Lower me, lower me down to the floor.”
I bowed beside him and felt his weight shift from the table to my shoulder. I knelt slowly down. He gasped and spit with pain, but when I had crouched on the floor, he rolled from me to his side.
“Paul?”
“Take,” he said, “my tunic off.”
“What’s the matter? What happened? Why are you in so much pain?”
“Oh, little Prisca,” he affected a chuckle, “consider it my morning ablutions. Please remove the tunic.”
I did. He unbent himself. He turned face down on the floor and stretched his arms away, and I saw his back in the lamplight, and I couldn’t help myself, I gave a tiny cry of pity.
Paul said, “There’s olive oil in the jar on the table.”
“Oh, Paul!” I whispered.
The flesh of his back was gouged, was shining white with old wounds and scars, with stripes and welts so dry that the whole expanse of skin had cracked like a wasteland.
“Please,” he spoke into the dust of the floor, “pour the oil on my back. Then, as hard as you can, drive the heels of your hands into the bone and muscle. Please.”
Quietly I began to cry. I brought the jar from the table and tipped it and allowed the oil to flow onto his wretched flesh.
The cool oil caused him to shiver. I knelt beside him, and touched him with the palms of my hands, and felt how ragged the whippings and beatings had left him, and began tenderly, tenderly to massage him.
“Push,” he said.
I did. I pushed harder, but it caused him suddenly to groan, and I snatched my hands back to my breast.
“Priscilla,” he commanded, “you must push.”
I tried. I closed my eyes. Outraging every instinct in me, I leaned my bodily weight down through my arms upon the bones of his back. But this time he cried out, and I did too and froze.
A moment passed.
Then Paul said, “If you don’t do this, I will not be able to stand up straight today. And any motion could tear my skin. And I’ll bleed into my garments. Little Prisca, I am so sorry – but I need your help.”
Paul was fifty-six years old but his body felt like he was ninety-six. When we read the words of Paul we need to remember that he was a flesh and blood man.
As a further reward for his long years of service, as Paul wrote his letter to the Philippians, he was once again in prison, this time under house arrest in Rome and had been there for about two years.
Paul had paid with his life and body for the church that was growing as he sat in his prison and now some of those who were free to preach the Gospel while he was under house arrest were doing so in a way that undercut his authority and reputation.
Paul had developed a great, well-deserved reputation and it was being attacked while he sat under Roman guard.
What would you do in such a circumstance?
I know what I would do; at least I know what I would instinctively want to do. I would want to work to discredit those attacking me. I would want to gather support from my friends to attack those who were working against me. After all, it would not just be me they were attacking. It would be my gospel for which I have been working for years, for which I have been suffering for years that they were attacking. I would turn it into a holy crusade against those who were working against Jesus and me. I would feel justified in doing this. I would build a case to make sure everyone else saw things as purely and clearly as I did.
But what is so amazing to me is that this is not what Paul did.
Listen to Paul’s reaction in Philippians 1:12-26
Now I want you to know, brothers, that what has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel. 13 As a result, it has become clear throughout the whole palace guard and to everyone else that I am in chains for Christ. 14 Because of my chains, most of the brothers in the Lord have been encouraged to speak the word of God more courageously and fearlessly.
15 It is true that some preach Christ out of envy and rivalry, but others out of goodwill. 16 The latter do so in love, knowing that I am put here for the defense of the gospel. 17 The former preach Christ out of selfish ambition, not sincerely, supposing that they can stir up trouble for me while I am in chains. 18 But what does it matter? The important thing is that in every way, whether from false motives or true, Christ is preached. And because of this I rejoice.
But what does it matter? This is the phrase that grabs me when I read through Philippians.
What does it matter? It matters a lot! It matters because instead of people being grateful for all I have done; instead of people affirming me for all I have sacrificed; instead of people admiring me for the ways in which I have suffered, I am being attacked.
It does matter that I am attacked. It does matter that my reputation is being tarnished. It does matter.
But Paul was able to say, But what does it matter? and he was able to say that because he knew that it was all about Jesus. It was all about Jesus and it was not about him. Paul knew that it is always about Jesus and it is never about us.
Jesus lived and died. But then it was in his resurrection that Jesus, as Paul wrote in Romans 1:4
was declared with power to be the Son of God by his resurrection from the dead
And then as the early hymn of the church proclaims:
God exalted him to the highest place
and gave him the name that is above every name
He ascended into heaven and sits on his throne. At the name of Jesus every knee will bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord.
Jesus was revealed to be the supreme God who preexisted creation. All things were created by him. All things we see and all those we cannot see were created by him and through him.
John was one of three disciples closest to Jesus. They spent at least three years together. John thought he knew Jesus pretty well. But then when John was in exile on the island of Patmos he had a vision of the risen Jesus. (Revelation 1:12–17)
I turned around to see the voice that was speaking to me. And when I turned I saw seven golden lampstands, 13 and among the lampstands was someone like a son of man, dressed in a robe reaching down to his feet and with a golden sash around his chest. 14 The hair on his head was white like wool, as white as snow, and his eyes were like blazing fire. 15 His feet were like bronze glowing in a furnace, and his voice was like the sound of rushing waters. 16 In his right hand he held seven stars, and coming out of his mouth was a sharp, double-edged sword. His face was like the sun shining in all its brilliance.
17 When I saw him, I fell at his feet as though dead.
That is the only rational way to respond to the glory of the risen Jesus. Jesus is so much greater than we can think or imagine. It is impossible for us to know Jesus in his fullness. We read the Bible and pray. We try to read between the lines of Scripture to figure out just who Jesus was and after a lifetime of study, we know only the smallest part of who Jesus is.
Jesus is so great that if we used all our creativity and all our imagination and tried to paint a picture of Jesus, we would still know only the smallest part of Jesus.
It is precisely because Jesus is God in the flesh that we say it is all about Jesus. It is because when we are gathered in heaven at the end of time and every knee is bowed and every tongue confessing that Jesus is Lord, that it is all about Jesus.
I came across this quote by Austin Farrer, an Anglican priest in England from WWII to his death in 1968.
Oh God, save me from myself, save me from myself … this masterful self which manipulates your creation … this self which throws the thick shadow of its own purposes and desires in every direction in which I try to look, so that I cannot see what it is that you, my Lord and God, are showing to me. Teach me to stand out of my own light, and let your daylight shine.
It is obvious how this applies if you are working in church ministry. We are working for the kingdom of God, not to establish our own earthly kingdom. But how does this apply to students, to those who are raising children, to those who work in the secular marketplace?
Paul wrote in Philippians 2:3–4
Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, 4 not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.
How can we do that? If we are always looking out for the interests of others, who will look out for us? People will take advantage of us. People will take us for granted.
It’s all about Jesus and it is not about you. For two thousand years people in the church have been using Jesus to give them good luck. People pray so they can get what they want. People give to the church so they can have a better life when they die.
Jesus knows what it is like to be taken advantage of. Jesus knows what it is like to be used for the selfish wants of others. We follow his example. It is all about Jesus and not about you.
In Colossians 3:12–14 Paul wrote about how we should live with each other.
Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. 13 Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. 14 And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.
Has someone hurt your feelings? It is all about Jesus and it is not about you.
Has someone wronged you? It is all about Jesus and it is not about you.
Why should I forgive someone who has hurt me? Why should I forgive someone who has betrayed me?
I forgive because it is all about Jesus and it is not about me. It is not about my feelings and how badly I was hurt and how terrible someone else was in the way they treated me. It is about Jesus who while we were still sinners died for us. It is about Jesus who told us to forgive as we have been forgiven.
Even in tragedy, it is still all about Jesus. A widow of the September 11 attacks on the US addressed a national conference shortly after her young husband died when the plane he was in crashed in a Pennsylvania field. This is part of what she said:
“After the hijacking I was left with a choice: Either living with fear or living with hope. As a follower of Christ I could only choose hope, hope in Him.”
When we acknowledge that it is all about Jesus, we submit to his love and care for us. We may still grieve, but our grief is encompassed by our hope that comes from knowing that Jesus who loves us and died for us is God in the flesh and will welcome us when we enter into his kingdom.
Even in tragedy it is all about Jesus.
There may be some who will object to my saying over and over again that it is not about you. “We are important and what we feel is important and to disregard who we are is a mistake,” they may say.
When we say that it is all about Jesus and it is not about ourselves, we are not being masochistic. We are not like those who cut themselves so they bleed as a sign of their devotion.
Because of who Jesus is, when we live so that it is all about Jesus and not about ourselves, we discover what life really is and we are able to live life to its fullest. Our sacrifice of ourselves to Jesus is a win-win situation. The desire of God for us to come to him and submit to him is met and we discover what is best for ourselves. Jesus said in John 10:10 (in several different translations)
I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.
Life abundant
more and better life than they ever dreamed of.
Do you want to live life in all its fullness, have a more and better life than you ever dreamed of? Then live with this truth: It is all about Jesus and it is not about you.
