Reading: Philippians 1-2, Psalm 11

We turn now to the Paul’s letter to the church in Philippi, a city in Macedonia that Paul and Luke visited in Acts 16. This letter, which appears to have been written during Paul’s captivity in Rome, addresses issues of the identity of Jesus and the gospel in a time and place where the church is facing persecution and difficulty. As in the letter to the Corinthians, Paul uses his own suffering as a sign of God’s favor, as it allows him to participate in the story of the gospel. As Christ suffered for us all, Paul sees it as an advantage to be worthy of suffering for the Philippians, and he encourages them to see their lives in a like manner. The letter was sent by one Epaphroditus, who had come to Paul from Philippi to deliver him support in prison. Epaphroditus was a huge encouragement to Paul, but while with Paul he nearly died of illness. Paul will take this event and the suffering involved in it and use it as an example of the power of the gospel.

Philippi is unique among the early church cities for a number of reasons, but the most important is that it was an official colony of Rome. This was very different than being a conquered city, even an important one that was a provincial capital like Thessalonica. It was not founded by Romans, but by Phillip of Macedon, the father of Alexander the Great. But by the time Paul and Luke show up, the city is considered “ius Italicum,” a status that basically said Philippi was a part of Rome itself. The reasons are related to the war between Antony and Octavian that followed the assassination of Julius Caesar. When Octavian won that war and became Augustus Caesar, he conferred on Philippi “ius Italicum,” exempting it from taxes, giving it’s citizens favored status under the law, and a host of other benefits. The upshot of all this is that the people of Philippi were extremely pro-Roman. They were Roman patriots of the highest order. The cult of emperor worship was pervasive in the city.

The letter is organized in an interesting way. Ancient writers did not necessarily follow the same argumentative structure we might employ today, though there are some similarities, since linguistically and culturally we are basically all just ancient Greeks tweaked a bit. In this letter, Paul follows a Hebrew style by putting his major point in the middle of the letter, rather than at the beginning or end. Chapter 2:6-11 is his great meditation on the incarnation of Jesus, and 2:12-18 is his argument for joy in the face of suffering.

These verses express some of the most important Christology in the Scriptures. Paul is taking everything he knows about the Story of the Hebrew Scriptures, pulling in everything he knows about Jesus, and boils it down to a couple of sentences that are the absolute pinnacle of dense theological writing. He tells us that Jesus is God, that Jesus is human, that he somehow emptied himself of his glory as God in order to be the human Servant, that he was obedient unto death in the most miserable and shameful fashion imaginable, and that as a result he was elevated to the position of King of all creation. Then he says, because of this, the Philippians should work out your own salvation with fear and trembling. Understand that this is not a call to be weak or fearful, but a call to understand that being weak and fearful are but signs of obedience, and that God is faithful. Paul is not about to tell anyone not to be bold in the proclamation of the gospel. What he wants the Philippians to know is that, in a world that persecutes them while engaging in self-absorbed worship, God is at work transforming them into lights in the world. Their suffering, and Paul’s, are the means by which the world will see the light of the gospel. Paul spends the rest of the book expounding on these themes. It is the jars of clay all over again. Our message is so good that it must be kept in these broken vessels named Paul, Timothy, and Epaphroditus. Jesus was a sacrifice, emptied of glory, but in that mode he brought light to the whole world. Paul himself would do no less.