“Summa Epistolae—gaudeo, gaudete.”—BENGEL.
THE greeting is from “Paul and Timotheus, slaves of Jesus Christ, to all the saints who are in Christ Jesus in Philippi, with the bishops and deacons.” Timothy is naturally associated with him as one who had laboured at Philippi, but so little is he supposed to have any share in the authorship that St. Paul afterwards proceeds to speak of him in the third person. The “bishops” (i.e., the presbyters) and deacons are specially greeted, perhaps because they had taken an active part in the collection of the contribution. He does not call himself an apostle, because to them no assertion of his authority was in any way needful.1
The thanksgiving which follows is unusually full. He tells them that he thanks God in all his remembrance of them, always, in allhis supplication on behalf of them all, making his supplication with joy for their united work in furtherance of the Gospel from the first day when he had visited them— ten years ago—until now; and he is very sure that God, who began in them that sacred work of co–operation in a good cause, will carry it on to perfection until the day of Christ;2 a conviction arising from his heartfelt sense that they were ALL of them partakers of the grace which God had granted to him, and which they had manifested by their sympathetic aid in his bondage, and in the defence and establishment of the Gospel. God knows how much he yearns for them in Christ; and his prayer for them is that their love may abound more and more in full knowledge of the truth, and all insight into its application, so that they may discriminate all that is best and highest,3 and be pure towards God and blameless towards men, for the day of Christ, having been filled with the fruit of a righteousness attainable not by their own works but by Jesus Christ, for the glory and praise of God.4
They must not suppose, he tells them, that he is the Apostle of a ruined cause, or that his imprisonment is a sign that God’s frown is on his work, and that it is coming to nought; on the contrary, he wants them to recognise that his misfortunes have been overruled by God to the direct furtherance of the Gospel. The necessity of his being coupled to guardsman after guardsman, day after day and night after night, had resulted in the notoriety of his condition as a prisoner for Christ among all the Prætorian cohorts,5 and to everybody else; and the majority of the brethren had been stimulated by his bonds to a divine confidence, which had shown itself in a yet more courageous daring than before in preaching the word of God. Some of them preach Christ out of genuine good will, but some, alas! tell the story of Christ insincerely6 out of mere envy and discord. The former are influenced by love to him, knowing that he is appointed for the defence of the Gospel; the latter announce Christ out of partisanship with base motives, thinking to make his bonds more galling.7 Perhaps the day had been when Paul might have denounced them in tones of burning rebuke; but he is already Paul the prisoner, though not yet Paul the aged. He had learnt, he was learning more and more, that the wrath of man, even in a holy cause, worketh not the righteousness of God; he had risen, and was rising more and more, above every personal consideration. What mattered it whether these preachers meant only to insult him, and render his bondage yet more galling? After all, “in every way, whether with masked design or in sincerity, Christ is being preached, and therein I do—aye, and”—whatever angry feelings may try to rise within my heart—“I will rejoice.”8
It is thus that the Apostle first tramples on the snake of any mere personal annoyance that may strive to hiss in his sad heart, and crushes it yet more vigorously with a determined effort if its hiss still tries to make itself heard. He has attained by this time to a holy resignation.
“For I know that this trouble will turn to salvation by means of your prayer, and the rich outpouring9 of the spirit of Jesus Christ, in accordance with my earnest desire10 and hope that with all outspokenness, as always, so now”—he was going to say, “I may magnify Christ,” but with his usual sensitive shrinking from any exaltation of himself, he substitutes the third person,11 and says, “So now Christ shall be magnified in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.12 But if life in the flesh means that I shall reap the fruit of labour … well, what to choose I cannot tell; but I am hard pressed by the alternatives. I desire to break up my earthly camp,13 and be with Christ, for it is very far, far better;14 but to abide by this earthly life is more necessary for your sakes. And I am confidently persuaded of this, that I shall bide and abide15 with you all, for the advance and joy of your faith, that by a second stay of mine among you you may have in me some further subject for your Christian glorying.”16
Only in any case he bids them play worthily the part, not only of Roman but of Christian citizens,17 that, whether he came and saw their state, or only heard of it at a distance, he might know that they stood firm in one spirit, with one heart, fellow–wrestlers with the Faith in the Gospel, and not scared in anything by their adversaries—conduct which would be to those adversaries a proof of their ultimate perdition, and to themselves of salvation; an evidence from God Himself, since, thus, they were privileged not only to believe in Christ, but to suffer for Him, as sharers in a contest like that in which they saw Paul engaged when he was among them, and in which they know by rumour that he was at that moment engaged.18
And this brings him to one main object of his letter, which was to urge on them this earnest entreaty:—
“If, then, there be any appeal to you in Christ, if any persuasiveness in love, if any participation in the Spirit, if any one be heart and compassionateness,19 complete my joy by thinking the same thing, having the same love, heart–united, thinking onething. Nothing for partisanship, nor for empty personal vanity! but in lowliness of mind,20 each of you thinking others his own superiors, not severally keeping your eye on your own interests, but, also severally, on the interests of others.21
“Be of the same mind in yourselves as Christ Jesus was in Himself, who existing in the form (μορφῇ) of God, deemed not equality with God a thing for eager seizure,22 but emptied Himself, taking the form of a slave, revealing Himself in human semblance, and being found in shape (σχήματι) as a man,23 humbled Himself, showing Himself obedient even to death, aye, and that death—the death of the Cross.”
Those words were the very climax; in striving to urge on the Philippians the example of humility and unselfishness as the only possible bases of unity, he sets before them the Divine lowliness which had descended step by step into the very abyss of degradation. He tells them of Christ’s eternal possession of the attributes of God; His self–abnegation of any claim to that equality; His voluntary exinanition of His glory; His assumption of the essential attributes of a slave; His becoming a man in all external semblance; His display of obedience to His Father, even to death, and not only death, but—which might well thrill the heart of those who possessed the right of Roman citizenship, and were therefore exempt from the possibility of so frightful a degradation—death by crucifixion. Such were the elements of Christ’s self–abasement! Yet that self–humiliation had purchased its own infinite reward, for—
“Because of it God also highly exalted Him, and freely granted Him the name above every name, that in the name of Jesus every knee should bend of heavenly and earthly and subterranean beings, and every tongue gratefully confess24 that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of the Father.”25
Could they have a stronger incentive? In his absence, as in his presence, he exhorts them to maintain their obedience, and work out their own salvation with fear and trembling, since the will and the power to do so came alike from God.26 Let them lay aside the murmurings and dissensions which were the main hindrance to their proving themselves blameless and sincere—children of God, uncensured in the midst of a crooked and distorted generation, among whom they appeared as stars,27 holding forth the word of life, so as to secure to him for the day of Christ a subject of boast that he neither ran his race nor trained for his contest to no purpose.
“Nay, even if I am poured out as a libation over the sacrifice and free offering of your faith,28 I rejoice and congratulate you all; and likewise rejoice ye too, and congratulate me.”29
Perhaps, then, he might never come to them himself.
“But I hope in the Lord Jesus speedily to send Timothy to you, that he in turn may be cheered by a knowledge of your fortunes. For I have no emissary like him—no one who will care for your affairs with so genuine an earnestness. For,” he sadly adds, “one and all seek their own interests, not those of Jesus Christ. But ye remember how hestood the test, since as a son for a father he slaved with me for the Gospel. Him then, at any rate, I hope to send—as soon as I get a glimpse30 of how it will go with me—at once. But I feel sure in the Lord that I myself too shall quickly come. I think it necessary, however, to send you Epaphroditus, my brother, and fellow–labourer, and fellow–soldier,31 the messenger whom you sent to minister to my need, since he was ever yearning for you, and feeling despondent because you heard of his illness. Yes, he was indeed ill almost to death; but God pitied him, and not him only, but also me, that I may not have grief upon grief. With all the more eagerness, then, I send him, that you may once more rejoice on seeing him, and I may be less full of grief. Welcome him, then, in the Lord with all joy, and hold such as him in honour, because for the sake of the work he came near to death, playing the gambler with his life,32 in order to fill up the necessary lack of your personal ministration towards me.33
“For the rest, my brethren, farewell, and indeed fare ye well in the Lord.34 To write the same things to you is not irksome to me, and for youit is safe.”35
Then came a sudden break.36 It seems clear that the Apostle had intended at this point to close the letter, and to close it with a repetition of the oft–repeated exhortation— for which he half apologises—to greater peace and unity among themselves.37 It is quite possible that these last words might have run on, as they do in the First Epistle to the Thessalonians, to a considerable length;38 but here something occurred to break the sequence of the Apostle’s thoughts. When he returned to his dictation he began a digression far more severe and agitated in its tone than the rest of his letter, and he does not resume the broken thread of his previous topic till the second verse of the fourth chapter, where, instead of any general exhortation, he makes a direct personal appeal.
As to the nature of the interruption we cannot even conjecture. It may have been merely a change of the soldier who was on guard; but in the exigencies of a life which, though that of a prisoner, was yet fully occupied, many circumstances may have caused a little delay before everything could be ready, and the amanuensis once more at his post. And meanwhile something had occurred which had ruffled the Apostle’s soul—nay, rather which had disturbed it to its inmost depths. That something can only have been a conflict, in some form or other, with Judaising teachers. Something must either have thrown him in contact with, or brought to his notice the character and doctrine of false Apostles, of the same class as he had encountered at Corinth, and heard of in the Churches of Galatia. Once more the thoughts and tone of the Epistle to the Galatians, the truths and arguments of the Epistle to the Romans, swept in a storm of emotion over his soul; and it is with a burst of indignation, stronger for the moment than he had ever before expressed, that, on once more continuing his letter, he bids Timothy write to the still uncontaminated Church:—
“Beware of the dogs!39 Beware of the bad workers!40 Beware of the concision party!”41
The words are intensely severe. He implies, “They call us dogs, but they, not we, are the veritable dogs; and we, not they, are the true circumcision. Their circumcision is but concision—a mere mutilation of the flesh. We serve by the Spirit of God42—they serve ordinances; we boast in Christ Jesus—they do but trust in the flesh.” And why should they put themselves into rivalry with him? If the external were anything in which to place confidence, he could claim it in even a greater degree than any one else. He had been circumcised when eight days old; he was an Israelite, and of one of the noblest tribes of Israel, and not a mere Hellenist, but a Hebrew—aye, and a Hebrew of Hebrews;43 and—to pass from hereditary to personal topics of carnal boasting—as regards Law, he was a Pharisee; as regards Judaic enthusiasm, he had even persecuted the Church; as regards legal righteousness, he had proved himself above all reproach. Things like these were at one time the gains which he reckoned that life had brought him, but now for Christ’s sake he had got to count them as a loss.
“Aye, and more than that, I even count all things to be a loss for the sake of the transcendence of the knowledge of Christ Jesus, my Lord, for whose sake I was mulcted of all things,44 and I regard them as refuse flung to dogs,45 that I may gain Christ, and may be found in Him, not having any righteousness of mine which is of Law, but that which is by means of faith in Christ, that which comes of God, which is based on faith,46 that I may know Him, and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death, if so be I may attain to the resurrection (I mean not the general resurrection, but the resurrection of those that are Christ’s) from the dead.”47
And yet, as he goes on to warn them—though he had all this pregnant ground for confidence in externalisms, though he had rejected it all for the sake of Christ as mere foul and worthless rubbish, though his whole trust was now in Christ’s righteousness, and not in his own—so far was he even still from the secure and vaunting confidence of their adversaries, that he did not at all consider that he had grasped the prize, or had heen already perfected:—
“But I press forward to see if I may even grasp—for which purpose48 I too was grasped by Christ. Brothers, I do not reckon myself to have grasped; but one thing— forgetting the things behind, and leaning eagerly forward for the things before, I press forward to the goal for the prize of my heavenly calling of God in Christ Jesus.”
He is like one of those eager charioteers of whom his guardsmen so often talked to him when they had returned from the contests in the Circus Maximus, and joined their shouts to those of the myriads who cheered their favourite colours—leaning forward in his flying car, bending over the shaken rein and the goaded steed, forgetting everything— every peril, every competitor, every circling of the meta in the rear, as he pressed on for the goal by which sat the judges with the palm garlands that formed the prize.49
“Let all, then, of us who are full grown in spiritual privileges have this mind; then if in any other respect ye think otherwise50 than ye should, this shall God reveal to you; only walk in the same path to the point whereunto we once reached.”51
And as a yet further warning against any danger of their abusing the doctrine of the free gift of grace by antinomian practices, he adds—
“Show yourselves, brethren, imitators of me, and mark those who walk as ye have us for an example. For many walk about whom I often used to tell you, and now tell you even with tears—the enemies of the cross of Christ, whose end is destruction, whose god their belly, and their glory in their shame, men minding earthly things. For our real citizenship is in heaven, whence also we anxiously await as a Saviour the Lord Jesus Christ, who shall change the fashion of the body of our abasement so as to be conformable to the body of His glory,52 according to the efficacy of His power to subject also every existing thing unto Himself. So, my brethren, beloved and longed for, my joy and crown, so stand ye firm in the Lord, beloved.”53
Then after this long digression, which, beginning in strong indignation, calms itself down to pathetic appeal, he once more takes up the exhortation to unity with which he had intended to conclude. He entreats two ladies, Euodia and Syntyche, to unity of mind in Christ, and he also affectionately asks Syzygus54—on whose name of “yokefellow” he plays, by calling him a genuine yokefellow—a yokefellow in heart as well as in name55—to assist these ladies in making up their quarrel, which was all the more deplorable because of the worth of them both, seeing that they wrestled with him in the Gospel, with Clement too, and the rest of his fellow–workers whose names are in the Book of Life.56
“Fare ye well always; again I will say, fare ye well. Let your reasonableness be recognised by all men. Be anxious about nothing, but in everything, in your general and special prayers, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known before God. Then shall the peace of God, which surpasseth all understanding, keep sentry over your hearts, and the devices of your hearts, in Christ Jesus.
“Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are real, whatsoever things are awful, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are amiable, whatsoever things are winning, if ‘virtue,’57 if ‘honour,’ have a real meaning for you, on these things meditate. The things which ye both learned and received, both heard and saw in me, these things do, and the God of peace shall be with you.”58
Then comes the warm, yet delicate, expression of his heartfelt gratitude to them for the pecuniary contribution by which now, for the fourth time, they, and they only, had supplied the wants which he could no longer meet by manual labour.
“One word more:—I rejoiced in the Lord greatly, that now once more your thought on my behalf blossomed afresh.59 In this matter ye were indeed bearing me in mind, but ye were without opportunity. Not that I speak with reference to deficiency, for I learnt to be always independent in existing circumstances. I know how both to be humiliated, and I know how to abound. In everything and in all things I have been initiated how both to be satisfied and to be hungry, both to abound and to be in need. I am strong for everything in Him who gives me power. Still ye did well in making yourselves partakers in my affliction. And ye know as well as I do, Philippians, that in the beginning of the Gospel, when I went forth from Macedonia, no Church communicated with me as regards giving and receiving, except ye only, for even in Thessalonica both once and twice ye sent to my need—not that I am on the look–out for the gift, but I am on the look–out for the fruit which abounds to your account. Now, however, I have all things to the full,60 and I abound. I have been fulfilled by receiving from Epaphroditus the gifts you sent, an odour of sweet fragrance, a sacrifice acceptable, well–pleasing to God.61 But my God shall fulfil all your need according to His riches, in glory, in Christ Jesus. Now to our God and Father be glory for ever and ever. Amen.62
“Salute every saint in Christ Jesus. The brethren with me salute you. All the saints salute you, and especially63 those of Cæsar’s household.64
“The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit.”
A wide multi-column table is printed here in the source volume (pages 1114). It does not reflow into a single web column; the readable content of the source table is given elsewhere in this edition.
No great future awaited the Philippian Church. Half a century later, Ignatius passed through Philippi with his “ten leopards,” on his way to martyrdom; and Polycarp wrote to the Church a letter which, like that of St. Paul, is full of commendations. Little more is heard of it. Its site is still occupied by the wretched village of Filibidjek, but in spite of the fair promise of its birth, “the Church of Philippi has,” in the inscrutable counsel of God, “lived without a history, and perished without a memorial.”65