THE EPISTLE
TO THE
PHILIPPIANS
BY
ROBERT RAINY, D.D.
PRINCIPAL OF NEW COLLEGE, EDINBURGH
NEW YORK:
FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY,
Lafayette Place.
1900.
Not much need be said by way of preface, in addition to what is suggested in the introductory chapter.
It may be observed, however, that the Apostle's teaching repeatedly touches on the question, How the problem of practical human life on this earth is to be conceived and dealt with under the light and the influences of Christianity? The thought occurred that some expository passages might be superseded by an appendix summing up in one view the principles conceived to underlie the Apostle's way of dealing with such topics, which could be referred to on each separate occasion: and such a statement was prepared. It was, however, finally judged more suitable to the nature of an exposition to keep as close as possible to the Apostle's turn of thought in each of the cases in which he approaches the subject, rather than to try to secure brevity by a more summary treatment.
A few sentences have been transferred from a lecture on the Apostle Paul, published some years ago.
"Paul and Timothy, servants of Jesus Christ, to all the saints in Christ Jesus which are at Philippi, with the bishops and deacons: Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ."—Phil. i. 1, 2 (R.V.).
Philippi was a city of some importance, and had the position and privileges of a Roman colony. It was situated in a fruitful district, was near to gold mines, and was also near enough to the sea to serve as a depôt for a good deal of Asiatic commerce.
It is hardly necessary to remind readers of the Scripture
how Lydia and others received the word; how
the preachers were followed by the damsel with the
spirit of divination; how, when that damsel had been
silenced by Paul, her masters raised a tumult against
Paul and Silas, and got them scourged and cast into
prison; how the earthquake, which followed during
the night, resulted in the conversion of the jailor, and
in Paul and Silas being sent forth from the city with
honour. Perhaps Luke and Timothy remained behind
at Philippi, and continued to edify the believers. At
any rate, Paul himself had by this time continued there
"many days." Two short visits of the Apostle to
Philippi at a subsequent time are known to us (
The Church thus founded proved to be an interesting
one, for it possessed much of the simplicity and earnestness
of true Christianity. Both in the Epistles to the
Corinthians and in this Epistle, the Philippians are
singled out, above all Churches, for their cordiality of
feeling towards the Apostle who had brought to them
the knowledge of the truth. They made liberal
Eleven years, probably, had now passed since Paul
had brought to Philippi the knowledge of Christ Jesus.
During that time he had undergone many vicissitudes,
and now he had been for some time a prisoner at Rome.
Probably he had already written the Epistles to the
Ephesians, the Colossians, and to Philemon. Comparing
these with our Epistle, we may conclude that
his prospects as a prisoner had not improved, but rather
darkened, since the date of those letters. At this time,
The scope of the letter may be briefly stated.
After the usual inscription and salutation, the Apostle
expresses (as he does so often in his Epistles) his
thankfulness for what the Philippians had attained, and
his desire that they might grow to yet higher things.
He goes on to tell them how matters stood with himself,
and opens up, as to those whom he reckons trusted
friends, the manner in which his mind was exercised
under these providences. Returning to the Philippians,
and aiming at this, that they and he might have
growing fellowship in all Christian grace, he goes on
to set before them Christ, specially in His lowliness
and self-sacrifice. This is the grand end; attainment
to His likeness is work for all their lives. Paul sets
forth how earnestly his heart is set on this object,
and what means he is taking to advance it. After a
brief digression relating to his circumstances and
theirs, he returns again to the same point. In order
that defects may be removed, dangers avoided, progress
made, Christ must be their joy, their trust, their
aim, their very life. They, like the Apostle himself,
Such is a brief outline of the course of thought. But the Epistle, while perfect in the unity of its feeling and of its point of view, is remarkable for the way in which it alternates between matters proper to the Philippians, including the instruction Paul saw fit to impress upon them, and matters personal to himself. The Apostle seems to feel sure of affectionate sympathy in both regions, and in both equally; therefore in both his heart utters itself without difficulty and without restraint. Ch. i. 3-11, i. 27—ii. 16, iii. 1—iv. 9, are occupied with the one theme, and i. 12-26, ii. 17-30, iv. 10-21, with the other. In short, more than any other Epistle, if we except, perhaps, that to Philemon, the Epistle to the Philippians has the character of an outpouring. The official aims and obligations of the Christian instructor are fused, as it were, in the glowing affection of the personal friend. He is sure of his place in the hearts of his correspondents, and he knows how glad they will be to be assured of the place they hold in his.
Now because this real consecration takes place when
we are grafted into Christ by faith, because the Spirit
comes to us and abides in us as the Spirit of Christ,
This expression, "saints," or some phrase that is
equivalent, occurs commonly in the Epistles as the
designation of the parties addressed. And two things
are to be observed in connection with it. First, when
the Apostle addresses "all the saints," in any Epistle,
he is not shutting out any professed members of the
Church, any professed believers in the Lord. He never
speaks at the outset of an Epistle as if he meant to
make deliberate distinction between two several classes
of members of the Church: as who should say, "I write
now to some part of the Church, viz., the saints; as
for the rest, I do not now address them." Hence we
find the term used as equivalent to the Church—"to
the Church of God which is at Corinth, with all the
saints which are in all Achaia," and again "to them ...
that are called to be saints." We shall see presently the
lesson which this is fitted to teach. But, secondly, on
the other hand, the Apostle's use of the word makes it
clear that he uses it in the full sense which we have
explained, of a real saintship. He does not restrain
This is evident from the strain of all the Pauline
Epistles, and it is important to observe it and apply it.
In like manner, on the other side, we have a lesson
to learn from the unhesitating way in which the
Apostle writes to the saints, and sends the letter to
But let it be remarked at the same time, that this same fact shows us that the Apostle was wont to judge of men and Churches charitably; yes, with a very large charity. We may be very sure that there was a good deal in all those Churches, and a great deal in some, that needed to be judged charitably. They were not all clear, eminent, conspicuous saints; so far from that, there might well be some whole Churches in which saintship was, so far as man's inspection could perceive, faint and questionable. But the Apostle was far from thinking of shutting out the man whose faith was weak, whose attainments were small, whose regard to Christ was but a struggling and germinating thing. Far from being disposed to shut him out, no doubt the Apostle's whole desire was to shut such an one in, among the saints in Jesus Christ.
To be accepted in the Beloved, to be sanctified in
Christ Jesus, is a very great thing. No less than this
great thing Christ offers, and no less we humbly claim
in faith. Also it is no less than this that Christ
bestows on those who come to Him. Let Christians,
on the one hand, look to Christ, as able and willing to
do no less than this even for them; on the other hand,
let them look to themselves, that they neither deceive
themselves with false pretences, nor trifle idly with so
great a gospel. And in the case of others, let hasty
and needless adverse judgments be avoided. Let us
Along with the saints the letter specifies, in particular, the bishops and deacons. The former were the officers who took the oversight, as the word implies; the deacons those who rendered service, especially in the Church's outward and pecuniary concerns. These two standing orders are recognised by the Apostle. It is obvious that this does not suggest diocesan Episcopacy, for that implies three orders, the highest being a single bishop, to the exclusion of others assuming the office in that place.
It is more important to observe that the Epistle is not directed to the bishops primarily, or as if they were entitled to come between the people and the message. It is directed to all the saints. To them the Epistle, to them all the Scriptures belong, as their own inheritance, which no man may take from them. In so far as the bishops and deacons are distinguished from other saints, the Scriptures pertain to them that they may learn their own duty, and also may help the people in the use and enjoyment of that which is already theirs.
Now follows the salutation—Grace be unto you and peace. This is the ordinary salutation, varied and amplified in a few of the Epistles. It may be said to express the sum of all Christian well-being in this life.
Grace is, first of all, the word which expresses the
free favour of God, manifested towards the unworthy
And from whom is this good expected to proceed? From God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. The Father who loved us, the Son who charged Himself with the burden of our salvation, impart a grace and a peace fragrant with that Divine love and charged with the efficacy of that blessed mediation. If any one wonders why the Holy Spirit is left out, a reason may be given for it. For if we look to the substance of the blessings, what are this grace and peace but the Holy Spirit Himself dwelling in us, revealing to us the Father and the Son from whom He comes, and enabling us to continue in the Son and in the Father?
"I thank my God upon all my remembrance of you, always in every supplication of mine on behalf of you all making my supplication with joy, for your fellowship in furtherance of the gospel from the first day until now; being confident of this very thing, that He which began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Jesus Christ: even as it is right for me to be thus minded on behalf of you all, because I have you in my heart, inasmuch as, both in my bonds and in the defence and confirmation of the gospel, ye all are partakers with me of grace. For God is my witness, how I long after you all in the tender mercies of Christ Jesus. And this I pray, that your love may abound yet more and more in knowledge and all discernment; so that ye may approve the things that are excellent; that ye may be sincere and void of offence unto the day of Christ; being filled with the fruits of righteousness, which are through Jesus Christ, unto the glory and praise of God."—Phil. i. 3-11 (R.V.).
Note the course of thought. In ver. 3 he declares his
thankfulness and in ver. 4 his prayerfulness on their
behalf; and he puts these two together, without as yet
saying why he thanks and what he prays for. He puts
them together, because he would mark that with him
these are not two separate things; but his prayer is
thankful, and his thankfulness is prayerful; and then,
having so much to be thankful for, his prayers became,
also, joyful. The reason why, he presently explains
more particularly. For, ver. 5, he had to thank God,
joyfully, for their fellowship in the gospel in the past;
and then, ver. 6, knowing to what this pointed forward,
he could pray joyfully—that is, with joyful expectation
for the future. And thus he prepares the way for telling
what special things he was led to pray for; but first he
First he thanks God for grace bestowed upon the
Philippians. As often as he remembered them, as
often as he lifted up his heart in prayer to make request
for them, he was cheered with the feeling that he could
make request joyfully—i.e., he could rejoice over mercies
already given. We know that the Apostle, in his
letters to the Churches, is found always ready to evince
the same spirit; he is prompt to pour out his thanks
for anything attained by those Churches, either in gifts
or grace. We find it so in his letters to the Churches
of Corinth and Ephesus and Colossæ and Thessalonica.
He does this, always, in a full and hearty way. He
evidently counted it both duty and privilege to take
note of what God had wrought, and to show that he
prized it. Like John, he had no greater joy than to
hear that his children walked in the truth; and he gave
the glory of it to God in thanksgiving. In the case of this
Church, however, the ground of thanksgiving was something
that bound them to Paul in a peculiar manner,
and touched his heart with a glow of tenderer love and
gladness. It was, ver. 5, "their fellowship in the
gospel (or rather, unto the gospel) from the first day
until now." He means, that from their first acquaintance
with the gospel, the Philippian Christians had,
with unusual heartiness and sincerity, committed themselves
The disposition here commended has its importance, very much because it implies so just a conception of the genius of the gospel, and so hearty a consent to it. He whose Christianity leads him to band himself with his fellow-Christians, to get good by their help, and to help them to get good, and along with them to do good as opportunity arises, is a man who believes in the work of the gospel as a vital social force; he believes that Christ is in his members; he believes that there are attainments to be made, victories won, benefits laid hold of and appropriated. He is in sympathy with Christ, for he is attracted by the expectation of great results coming in the line of the gospel; and he is one who looks not merely on his own things, but rejoices to feel that his own hope is bound up with a great hope for many and for the world. Such a man is near the heart of things. He has, in important respects, got the right notion of Christianity, and Christianity has got the right hold of him.
Now if we consider that the Apostle Paul, "the slave
of Jesus Christ," was himself a marvellous embodiment
of the spirit he is here commending to the Philippians,
we shall easily understand with what satisfaction he
thought upon this Church, and rejoiced over them, and
gave thanks. Was there ever a man who, more than
Paul, evinced "the fellowship of the gospel" from the
Paul ascribed all this to God's grace in them, and thanked God for it. True, indeed, much activity about the gospel, and much that looks like interest in its progress, may proceed from other causes besides a living fellowship with Jesus, and a true disposition to forsake all for Him. The outward activity may be resorted to as a substitute for the inward life; or it may express the spirit of sectarian selfishness. But when it appears as a consistent interest in the gospel, when it is accompanied by the tokens of frank goodwill and free self-surrender to the Church's evangelical life, when it endures through vicissitudes of time, under trial, persecution, and reproach, it must arise, in the main, from a real persuasion of the Divine excellence and power of the gospel and the Saviour. Not without the grace of God does any Church manifest this spirit.
Now to the Apostle who had this cause of gladness in the past, there opened (ver. 6) a gladdening prospect for the future, which at once deepened his thankfulness and gave expectancy to his prayers. "Being confident of this very thing, that He that hath begun a good work in you will perform it unto the day of Jesus Christ." "Being confident of this very thing" is equivalent to "Having no less confidence than this"; for he desires to express that his confidence is emphatic and great.
The principle is that the work of saving grace clearly
begun by the Spirit of God shall not be destroyed and
come to nothing, but shall be carried on to complete
salvation. This principle is not received by all Christians
as part of the teaching of Scripture; but without
entering now into any large discussion, it may be
pointed out that it seems to be recognised, not merely
in a few, but in many passages of Holy Writ. Not to
recite Old Testament indications, we have our Lord's
word (
As to the application of this principle to the Philippians,
the method in which the Apostle proceeds is
plain. He certainly does not speak as by immediate
insight into Divine counsels about the Philippians. He
is directed to utter a conclusion at which he had arrived
by a process which he explains. From the evidence of
the reality of their Christian calling, he drew the conclusion
that Christ was at work in them, and the further
conclusion that this work would be completed. It may
be asked how so confident an application of the principle
now in view could be reached on these terms?
How could the Apostle be sure enough of the inward
state of his Philippian friends, to enable him to reason
on it, as here he seems to do? In answer, we grant
it to be impossible for any one, without immediate
revelation on the point, to reach absolute assurance
about the spiritual state of other people. And therefore
we are to keep in view, what has already been
suggested, that the Apostle, speaking to "saints,"
really remits to themselves and to their Lord the final
question as to the reality of that apparent saintship.
But then, we are taught by the Apostle's example that
where ordinary tokens, and especially where more than
ordinary tokens of Christian character appear, we are
However, the Apostle felt that he had a special right
to feel thus in reference to the Philippians—more,
perhaps, than in regard to others; and instead of going
on at once to specify the objects of his prayers for them,
he interposes a vindication, as it were, of the right he
claimed (ver. 7): "Even as it is meet for me to be thus
minded with respect to all of you, because I have you
in my heart, you who are all partakers of my grace,
not only in the defence and confirmation of the gospel,
but also in my bonds." As if he would say,—There
are special ties between us, which justify on my
part special tenderness and vigilance of appreciation
and approbation, when I think of you. A father has a
special right to take note of what is hopeful in his son,
and to dwell with satisfaction on his virtues and his
promise; and friends who have toiled and suffered
The Philippians were sharers of Paul's grace, as
sharing his enthusiasm for the successful advocacy
and confirmation of the gospel. So they had their
share in the grace that was so mighty in him. But
besides that, the Apostle's heart had been cheered and
warmed by the manifestation of their sympathy, their
loving thoughtfulness in reference to his bonds. So he
joyfully owned them as partakers in spirit in those
bonds, and in the grace by which he endured them.
They remembered him in his bonds, "as bound with
him." Every way their fellowship with him expressed
itself as full and true. No jarring element broke in to
mar the happy sense of this. He could feel that
though far away their hearts beat pulse for pulse with
his, partakers not only of his toil but of his bonds. So
he "had them in his heart": his heart embraced them
with no common warmth and yielded to them no
common friendship. And what then? Why then "it is
meet that I should be thus minded," "should use love's
happy right to think very well of you, and should let
the evidence of your Christian feeling come home to
my heart, warm and glowing." It was meet that Paul
should joyfully repute them to be sincere—to be men
It would be a helpful thing if Christian friends cherished, and if they sometimes expressed, warm hopes and expectations in behalf of one another. Only, let this be the outcome of truly spiritual affection. Paul was persuaded that his feelings arose from no mere human impulse. The grace of God it was which had given the Philippians this place in his heart. God was his record that his longing after them was great, and also that it was in the mercies of Christ. He loved them as a man in Christ, and with Christlike affections. Otherwise, words like these assume a canting character, and are unedifying.
Now at last comes the tenor of his prayer (ver. 9): "That your love may abound yet more and more in knowledge and all discernment; so that ye may approve the things that are excellent," and so on.
Let this first be noted, that it is a prayer for growth.
All that grace has wrought in the Philippian believers,
everything in their state that filled his heart with
thankfulness, he regards as the beginning of something
better still. For this he longs; and therefore his heart
is set on progress. So we find it in all his Epistles.
"As ye have received how ye ought to walk and to
The life of their souls, as he conceived it, depended
on the operation of one great principle, and he prays
for the increase of that in strength and efficacy. He
desires that their love may abound more and more.
No one doubts that, according to the Scriptures, love is the practical principle by which the fruits of faith are brought forth. The Christian character peculiarly consists in a Christlike love. The sum of the law from which we fell is, Thou shalt love; and, being redeemed in Christ, we find the end of the commandment to be love, out of a pure heart, and a good conscience, and faith unfeigned. Redemption itself is a process of love, setting forth from heaven to earth to create and kindle love, and make it triumph in human hearts and lives. Every one that loveth is born of God and knoweth God. No point is so well settled. Nobody doubts it.
Yet, alas! how many of us are truly aware of the
great meaning which apostolic words, which Christ's
words, carry, when this is spoken of? or how shall it
be made inwardly and vividly present to us? In the
heart of Christ, who loved us and gave Himself for us,
was a great purpose to awaken in human hearts a deep
and strong affection, kindred to His own—true, tender,
steadfast, all-prevailing, all-transforming. Apostles,
catching the fire in their degree, were full of the
wonder of it, of the glad surprise and yet the sober
reality of it; and they carried about the gospel everywhere,
looking to see men thrill into this new life, and
become instances of its strength and gladness. And
No doubt, the kindness the Philippians had shown
to the Apostle, of which he had been speaking,
naturally prepares the way for speaking of their love,
as the verse before us does. But we are not to take
the word as referring only to the love they might bear
to other believers, or, in particular, to the Apostle.
That is in the Apostle's mind; but his reference is
wider, namely, to love as a principle which operates
universally—which first holds lowly fellowship with the
love of God, and then also flows out in Christian affection
towards men. The Apostle does not distinguish
these, because he will not have us to separate them.
The believer has been brought back in love to God, and
having his life quickened from that source he loves
men. The manward aspect of it is made prominent in
Now here we must look narrowly into the drift of the prayer. For the Apostle desires that love may abound and work in a certain manner, and if it shall, he assures himself of excellent effects to follow. Perhaps we may best see the reason which guided his prayer, if we begin with the result or achievement he aimed at for his Philippian friends. If we can understand that, we may the better understand the road by which he hoped they might be carried forward to it.
The result aimed at is this (vv. 10, 11): "that ye
may be sincere and without offence until the day of
Christ; being filled with the fruits of righteousness,
which are by Jesus Christ, to the glory and praise of
God." The last end is the glory and praise of God.
This, let us be assured, is no mere phrase with the
Apostle. All these things are real and vivid to him. If
First, sincere: that signifies simplicity of purpose, and singleness of heart in following out that purpose. Sincere Christians cherish in their hearts no views, no principles, adverse to the Christian calling. The test of this sincerity is that a man shall be honestly willing to let light shine through him, to evince the true character of his principles and motives. Such a man is on the road to the final, victorious, and eternal sincerity. For the present there may be within him too much of that which hinders him, and mars his life. But if he is set on expelling this, and welcomes the light which exposes it, in order that he may expel it, then he has a real, present sincerity, and his course is brightening towards the perfect day.
Second, without offence. This is the character of
the man who walks without stumbling. For there are
obstacles in the way, and they are often unexpected.
Grant a man to be in a measure sincere—the call of the
Third, filled with fruits of righteousness—which is the positive result, associated with the absence of guile and the freedom from stumbling. A tree that bears any fruit is alive. But one that is filled with fruit glorifies the gardener's care. "Herein is My Father glorified, that ye bear much fruit; so shall ye be My disciples." Distinct and manifold acts of faith and patience are the proper testimonies of the soul that is sincere and without offence.
This is the line of things which the Apostle desires
He is placed in a world that is full of adverse influences, and is apt to stir adverse forces in his own heart. If he allows these influences to have their way—if he yields to the tendencies that operate around him, he will be carried on in a direction quite different from that which Paul contemplates. Instead of sincerity, there will be the tainted, corrupt, divided heart; instead of freedom from offence, there will be many a fall, or even a complete forsaking of the way; instead of fruits of righteousness filling the life, there will be "wild grapes." On the other hand, if, in spite of these influences, the Christian is enabled to hold his course, then the discipline of conflict and trial will prove full of blessing. Here also shall the promise be fulfilled that all things work together for good to them that love God. Strong temptations are not overcome without sorrow and pain; but being overcome, they turn out ministers of good. In this experience sincerity clears and deepens; and the bearing of the Christian acquires a firmness and directness not otherwise attainable; and the fruits of righteousness acquire a flavour which no other climate could have developed so well. This hard road turns out to be the best road towards the day of Christ.
The effect, then, of the circumstances in which the
believer is thus placed will be according to the way in
So we can understand very well, if the Philippians were to be sincere, without offence, filled with fruits of righteousness, that they must, and ever more and more searchingly and successfully, "approve the things that are more excellent." The phrase is also rendered "try the things which differ"; for the expression implies both. It implies such a putting to proof of that which is presented to us, as to make just distinctions and give to each its proper place—silver on the one side, dross on the other. What is the whole life and business of the Philippians, of any Christians, as Christians, but that of following out perpetually a choice, on given principles, among the multitude of objects that claim their regard? The fundamental choice, arrived at in believing, has to be reiterated continually, in a just application of it to a world of varying and sometimes perplexing cases.
1. No practical discriminations or determinations are of any worth in God's sight except as they are animated by love, and, indeed, determined by it. If a Christian should choose anything, or reject anything, yet not in love, his choice as to the matter of fact may be right, but for all that the man himself is wrong.
2. Love alone will practically carry through such habitual discrimination, such faithful and patient choice. Love becomes the new instinct which gives life, spring, and promptitude to the process. When this fails, the life of approving the things that are more excellent will fail; the task will be repudiated as a burden that cannot be endured. It may still be professed, but it must inwardly die.
3. Nothing but love can enable us to see and to affirm the true distinctions. Under the influence of that pure love (that arises in the heart which God's love has won and quickened) the things which differ are truly seen. So, and only so, we shall make distinctions according to the real differences as these appear in God's sight. Let us consider this a little.
Evidently among the things that differ there are
some whose characteristics are so plainly written in
conscience or in Scripture, that to determine what
should be said of them is matter of no difficulty at all.
And if so, then in that large class of cases where there is room for some degree of doubt or diversity, where some mist obscures the view, so that it is not plain at once into what class things should be reckoned—in cases where we are not driven to a decision by a blaze of light from Scripture or conscience—in such cases we need the impulse of the love which cleaves to God, which delights in righteousness, which gives to others, even to the undeserving, the brother's place in the heart. Without this there can be no detection of the real difference, and no assurance of the rectitude of the discrimination we make.
Now it is in such matters that the especial proof and
exercise of religious life goes on. Here, for example,
Lot failed. The beauty of the fair and prosperous
valley so filled his soul with admiration and desire, that
it chilled and all but killed the affections that should
have steadied and raised his mind. Had the love of
But the love of which the Apostle speaks is the
breath of the upper world and of the new life. It
cleaves to God, it embraces the things which God loves,
it enters into the views which God reveals,—and it
takes the right view of men, and of men's interest and
welfare. The man that has it, or has known it, is
therein aware of what is most material. He has a
notion of the conduct that is congruous to love's nature.
What love knows, it is the nature of love to practise,
for it knows lovingly; and at every step the practice
confirms, establishes, and enlarges the knowledge. So
the genuine growth of love is a growth in knowledge
(ver. 9)—the word implies the kind of knowledge that
goes with intently looking into things: love, as it
grows, becomes more quick to see and mark how
things really are when tried by the true standard.
Conversing practically with the mind of God in the
practice of life, love incorporates that mind and judges
in the light of it. This prepares a man to detect
Not only in knowledge shall love grow, but "in all discernment," or perception, as it might be rendered. There may be instances in which, with our best wisdom, we find it hard to disentangle clear principles, or state plain grounds which rule the case; yet love, growing and exercised, has its percipiency: it has that accomplished tact, that quick experienced taste, that fine sensibility to what befriends and what opposes truth and right, which will lead to right distinctions in practice. So you discriminate by the sense of taste things that differ, though you can give no reason to another, but can only say, "I perceive it." In this sense "he that is spiritual judgeth all things."
For all this the aid of the Holy Spirit is held out
to us, as we may see in
"Now I would have you know, brethren, that the things which happened unto me have fallen out rather unto the progress of the gospel; so that my bonds became manifest in Christ throughout the whole prætorian guard, and to all the rest; and that most of the brethren in the Lord, being confident through my bonds, are more abundantly bold to speak the word of God without fear. Some indeed preach Christ even of envy and strife; and some also of good will: the one do it of love, knowing that I am set for the defence of the gospel: but the other proclaim Christ of faction, not sincerely, thinking to raise up affliction for me in my bonds. What then? only that in every way, whether in pretence or in truth, Christ is proclaimed; and therein I rejoice, yea, and will rejoice. For I know that this shall turn to my salvation, through your supplication and the supply of the Spirit of Jesus Christ, according to my earnest expectation and hope, that in nothing shall I be put to shame, but that with all boldness, as always, so now also Christ shall be magnified in my body, whether by life, or by death."—Phil. i. 12-20 (R.V.).
The Apostle's affairs had seemed to be full of trial to
himself, all the more that they bore so discouraging an
aspect towards the cause to which he was devoted.
He had been for years a prisoner. The work of
preaching to the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of
Christ had been stopped, except as the narrow opportunities
of a prisoner's life offered scant outlets for it.
Most likely these things had tried the faith of Paul
himself, and they might distress and perplex his loving
friends at Philippi. It was right to feel that these
providences were trying; but one might be tempted
also to conclude that they were in every sense to be
lamented. So much the better it was, therefore, that
the Apostle could testify how here also all things
were working for good, and in particular were turning
First, Paul's imprisonment had become the means
of bringing to the knowledge of the gospel many who
were not likely ever to hear of it in any other way;
for his bonds had become manifest in Christ in the
Prætorium, and in all other places. The precise meaning
of the several words here used has become matter
of discussion; but the general result is much the same
whatever view is taken of the matters debated. The
word translated "palace" in the Authorised Version
(Marg. Cæsar's Court) may perhaps refer to the quarters
of the guard, in the immediate neighbourhood of the
palace. Prisoners whose cases were in a special
manner reserved to the Emperor were sometimes
confined there. And Paul, whether actually confined
there or not, must have come into contact with the troops
stationed there, for we know he had been delivered to
the captain of the guard ( This, however, is omitted in critical editions.
Paul, then, in charge of the guard, coming in contact with individuals belonging to the various reliefs which successively had him in custody, spoken of as one reserved to the judgment of the Emperor himself, became known throughout the quarters of the guard, and to persons of the household of every rank and class. In point of fact we know and can prove from evidence external to the Bible that a few years later than this (perhaps even earlier than this) there were members of the household who were Christians. Before the end of the century a branch of the family which then occupied the imperial throne seems to have joined the Church, perhaps through the influence of a Christian nurse, who is commemorated in an inscription still preserved.
But how did his bonds "become manifest in Christ"? The words no doubt mean that he became known extensively as a man whose bonds, whose imprisonment, was for his adherence to the name and doctrine of Jesus Christ. Let us consider how this would come about.
There might, at first, be universal indifference with
reference to the cause of this prisoner's confinement.
When his character and statements led to some
curiosity about him, men might find it difficult to
understand what the real nature of this mysterious
case could be. For while the charge, whatever form it
took, was not yet a common one, we may be very sure
that the man struck people as profoundly different from
One influence was at work which would at least
direct attention to the case. There were certainly Jews
in the household; there were also Jews in Rome who
made it their business, for their worldly interest, to
establish connections in the household; and about this
time Jewish influence rose to the person nearest to
Nero himself. There was therefore a class of persons
in the household likely to feel an interest in the case.
And on these most likely the influence of Jewish
Now think how much was done when some view of
the real nature of Paul's bonds had been lodged in the
minds of these men. Think what an event that was in
the mental history of some of these heathens of the old
world. Paul was, in the first place, a man very unlike
the ordinary type of movers of sedition. It seemed
that his offence stood only in religious opinions or persuasions;
and that itself, precisely in Nero's days, was
a little singular to figure as the ground of political imprisonment.
He was persecuted and endangered for
his faith, and he neither denied nor disguised that
faith, but spent all possible pains in proclaiming it.
This was new. He had a faith, resting professedly on
recent facts, which he proclaimed as indispensably
necessary to be received by all men. This was new.
He seriously told men, any man and every man, that
A few of them might have heard previously of
Christianity as a new and a malignant superstition.
But another conception of it reached them through the
bonds of Paul. This imprisoned man was a fact to be
accounted for, and a problem to be solved. In him
was an influence not wholly to be escaped, an instance
that needed a new interpretation. Many of them did
not obey the truth, some did; but at least something
had become manifest that could not easily be got rid
of again,—the beginning, in their case, of that leaven
which was eventually to revolutionise the thinking and
feeling of the world. Remember also that most of these
were men to whom Paul at liberty, speaking in synagogues
and the like, would have found no access, nor
Thus does it often come to pass that what seems adverse, proves to be on our side. Fruit is not always borne most freely when the visible opportunities of labouring are most plentiful. Rather the question is, how the opportunities given are employed, and how far the life of the labourer bears witness of the presence and power of Christ.
But besides the direct impression on those who were
outside, arising from the fact of Paul's imprisonment, it
became the means of stimulating and reinforcing the
labours of other Christians (ver. 14). It is not hard to
see how this might be. From Paul's bonds, and from
the manner and spirit in which they were borne, these
brethren received a new impression as to what should
be done and what should be borne in the service of
Christ. They were infected with the contagion of Paul's
heroism. The sources of Paul's consecration and of his
comfort became more real to them; and no discouragement
arising from pain or danger could hold its ground
against these forces. So they waxed confident. While
dangers that threaten Christians are still only impending,
are still only looming out of the unknown future,
men are apt to tremble at them, to look with a shrinking
eye, to approach with a reluctant step. Now here
in the midst of those Roman Christians was Paul, in
whom were embodied the trouble accepted and the
Not that the impulse to evangelistic earnestness, arising from Paul's presence in Rome, was all of this kind. It was not so. Some preached out of goodwill, in full sympathy with the spirit that animated Paul's own labours and sustained him in his trials. But some preached Christ out of envy and spite, and supposed to add affliction to his bonds. How are we to fit this into our notions of the Primitive Church?
The truth is that, ever since the gospel began to be preached, unworthy motives have combined with worthier in the administration and professed service of it. Mixture of motive has haunted the work even of those who strove to keep their motives pure. And men in whom lower motive and worse motive had a strong influence have struck into the work alongside of the nobler and purer labourers. So it has pleased God to permit; that even in this sacred field men might be tried and manifested before the judgment of the great day; and that it might be the more plain that the effectual blessing and the true increase come from Himself.
More especially have these influences become apparent
There were, as we all know, in the Church of those
days powerful sections of professed believers, who contested
Paul's apostleship, questioned his teaching, and
wholly disliked the effects of his work. Perhaps by
this time the strain of that conflict had become a little
less severe, but it had not wholly passed away. We
call these persons the Judaisers. They were men
who looked to Jesus Christ as the Messiah, who owned
the authority of His teaching, and claimed interest in
His promises. But they insisted on linking Christianity
to Jewish forms, and rules, and conditions of
law-keeping, which were on various grounds dear and
sacred to them. They apprehended feebly the spirituality
and Divineness of Christ's religion; and what
they did apprehend they wished to enslave, for themselves
and others, in a carnal system of rules and
ritual that tended to stifle and to bury the truth. With
this there went a feeling towards Paul of wrath fear,
This very same spirit, this poor and questionable
zeal for Christ, still works, and does so plentifully.
The activities of Churches, the alertness of Mission
societies and agencies, still partake, in far too many
instances, of this sinister inspiration. We ought to
watch against it in ourselves, that we may overcome
the evil and grow into a nobler temper. As regards
Now the Apostle, looking at this, is glad of it. He
is not glad that any men, professing Christ, give way
to evil and unchristian tempers. But he is glad that
Christ is preached. There were cases in which he
vehemently contended with such persons—when they
strove to poison and pervert Christians who had learned
the better way. But now he is thinking of the outside
world; and it was good that the making known of
Christ should gather strength, and volume, and extension.
And the Apostle knew that the Lord could
bless His own message, imperfectly delivered perhaps,
to bring thirsty souls to Himself, and would not fail in
His unsearchable wisdom to care for those who came,
and to lead them in the ways He thought best. Let
Christ be preached. The converts do not belong to
the denominations, but first of all to Christ. Neither
is it appointed that the denominations shall permanently
hold those whom they bring in; but Christ can hold
It is not true that the preaching of Christ serves no purpose and yields no fruit, in cases where it is not carried on in the right, or the best spirit. Indeed, God honours the pure, loving, lowly hearts, which He has Himself cleansed; they are appropriate agents for His work, and often receive a special blessing in connection with it. But God is not tied up to give no success to men acting under wrong motives: at least, if we are not to say He gives the success to them, yet in connection with them He is well able to take success to Himself. Through strange channels He can send blessings to souls, whatever He gives or denies to the unworthy workmen. But perhaps the success which attends such preachers is not remarkable nor very long continued. Souls truly gathered in will soon get beyond their teaching. At any rate, it is a poor business to be serving Christ upon the devil's principles. It cannot be good for us—whatever good may sometimes come thereby to others. Let us purge ourselves from such filthiness of the flesh and of the spirit.
"Christ is preached." How glad the Apostle was
to think of it! How he longed to see more of it, and
rejoiced in all of it that he saw! One wonders how
far the thoughts and feelings associated with these
words in Paul's mind, find any echo in ours. Christ is
preached. The meaning for men of that message, as
Paul conceived it, grew out of the anguish and the
Lastly, as to this, not only does he rejoice that Christ is announced to men, but he has an assurance that this shall have a happy issue and influence towards himself also. What is so good for others shall also be found to contribute an added element of good to his own salvation; so good and rich is God, who, in working wide results of Divine beneficence, does not overlook the special case and interest of His own servant. This work, from which the workmen would shut Paul out, shall prove to pertain to him in spite of them; and he, as reaper, shall receive here also his wages, gathering fruit unto life eternal.
For it is characteristic of this Epistle (ii. 17; iv. 10,
18) that the Apostle reveals to his Philippian friends
So the eager Apostle, caged and cabined, triumphed still in Christ, assured that there was a way of dealing with his Lord's will, discouraging as that might seem, in which it would reveal both enlargement for the Kingdom and the most loving enrichment also for himself.
This is a commonplace of Christianity. Christians
trust in Christ to cause all to work for good. They know
He can impart His most precious gifts through what seem
adverse providences. But it is a memorable embodiment
of this conviction that meets us in the Apostle's
confidence, that when Christ's providence outwardly
stops his work, it not the less pertains to Christ's
wisdom to continue and extend his usefulness. The
applications of the same principle to various cases in
which Christians are trained through disappointment
are innumerable. But mostly, even when, in a way,
we are open to the lesson, we take it too easily. We
forget that here also it is Christlike life and life in
Christ that proves so fruitful and so happy. We do
not apprehend how great a thing it is—what prayer it
asks—what supply of the Spirit of Jesus Christ. For
the Apostle, as we learn from what presently follows,
this blessing came in the line of "earnest expectation
and hope." It was not an exceptional effort of faith
which awoke in him so firm a confidence about his circumstances
at Rome, and was rewarded so manifestly.
There is a great admonition here for all of us who
profess to be followers of Christ. Our line of service
may not be so emphatically marked out for distinction,
for special and exceptional eminence of doing and
suffering, as Paul's was. But for every believer the
path of service opens, however commonplace and
undistinguished its scenery may be. And in some of
its stages it takes, for all of us, the peculiar character,
it assumes the distinguishing features which mark it
out as Christian. Here, in Paul, we see the spirit that
Let us note also, before we pass on, that the Lord's personal kindness to ourselves is matter of legitimate rejoicing and legitimate desire. That may be gathered from almost every verse. There have been persons who conceived that a true Christian is to be so occupied with the thought of God's glory and will, or so occupied with the weal of others, as to have no personal desires or interests at all. This is a mistake. One of the most intimate and special channels in which the glory of God and the revelation of it are secured, is in the expression of His goodwill to His child's own heart. This is the privilege of faith, to cherish the expectation that His glory and our good are to agree well together. Only, as to the latter, let us leave it to Him how it is to come to pass; and then it will come divinely and wonderfully. "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want."
"For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. But if to live in the flesh,—if this is the fruit of my work, then what I shall choose I wot not. But I am in a strait betwixt the two, having the desire to depart and be with Christ; for it is very far better: yet to abide in the flesh is more needful for your sake. And having this confidence, I know that I shall abide, yea, and abide with you all, for your progress and joy in the faith; that your glorying may abound in Christ Jesus in me through my presence with you again."—Phil. i. 21-26 (R.V.).
Now, when some great alternative of the future rises
before a Christian,—some possibility which God's providence
may turn either way,—it is natural that he
should look heedfully to it, that he may order aright
his faith and patience as the day of decision draws
near. And it is natural in particular that his thoughts
Which should he prefer, which should he pray for (subject to God's will), which should he hope for, life or death? The one would continue him in a labour for Christ, which Christ taught him to love. The other would bring him to a sinless and blessed fellowship with Christ, which Christ taught him to long for. Looking to the two, how should he order his desires?
It is because he speaks as one always does speak
who is pondering something—the words rising, as it
were, from what he sees before him—that he speaks so
elliptically in ver. 22. "But if to live in the flesh
come to me, as its fruit and reward bringing...."
What? The Apostle sees, but does not say: something
that might well reconcile him to prolonged toil and
Not every Christian is in the state of mind which would naturally express itself as a desire forthwith to depart and be with Christ. The great hope claims its place in every Christian heart; but not in every case so as to inspire the longing to overleap all intermediate stages. Rather must we not say that there are periods of Christian experience, as there are also casts of character, for which it is more usual and natural to desire, if it be God's will, some further experience of life on earth? If this be immature Christianity, we will not, therefore, judge that it cannot be genuine.
Yet to be ready, and, subject to God's will, desirous
to depart, is an attainment to be aimed at and made
good. Sooner or later it should come. It lies in the
line of ripening Christian affection and growing Christian
insight. For this is better. It is not that life in
this world is not good: it is good, when it is life in
It is not only better, so that we may own it so to be as a certainty of faith; but also so that we may and ought to feel it warming and drawing the heart with delight and with desire. It is not needful that we should judge more hardly of life on earth; but we might attain a far more gladdening appreciation of what it must be to be with Christ. With no rebellion against God's appointment when it keeps us here, and no grudging spirit towards earth's mercies and employments, we might yet have this thought of departing in God's time as a real and bright hope; a great element of comfort and of strength; a support in trouble; an elevating influence in times of gladness; an anchor of the soul, sure and steadfast, entering into that which is within the veil.
The hope of the gospel implies it. If that hope is ours and is duly cherished, must it not assert itself and sway the heart, so as more and more to command the life?
The earnest of the Spirit implies it. Of the very
As for the Apostle, however, if the choice were his, he felt that it must fall in favour of still cleaving to the present life; for this, though less attractive to himself, was more necessary for the Churches, and, in particular, for his friends at Philippi. This was so clear to him that he was persuaded his life would, in fact, be prolonged by Him who appoints to all their term of ministry. Probably we are not to take this as a prophecy, but only as the expression of a strong persuasion. Work still lay before him in the line of training and cheering these believing friends, furthering and gladdening their faith. He hoped to see them yet, and to renew the old glad "fellowship" (ch. i. 5). So there should be for the Philippians fresh matter of exultation,—exultation primarily in the great salvation of Christ, but yet receiving impulse and increase from the presence and ministry of Paul. Mainly, they would be exceeding glad of Christ; but yet, subordinately, exceeding glad of Paul also.
It is a striking thing to see how confident the
Apostle was of the resources given to him to wield. He
knew how profitable and how gladdening his coming
Alike in the utterance of his mind about his
Philippian friends, and in his explanations about himself,
it is remarkable how thoroughly the Apostle
carries his faith through the whole detail of persons
"Only let your manner of life be worthy of the gospel of Christ, that, whether I come and see you or be absent, I may hear of your state, that ye stand fast in one spirit, with one soul striving for the faith of the gospel; and in nothing affrighted by the adversaries: which is for them an evident token of perdition, but of your salvation, and that from God; because to you it hath been granted in the behalf of Christ, not only to believe on Him, but also to suffer in His behalf: having the same conflict which ye saw in me, and now hear to be in me."—Phil. i. 27-30 (R.V.).
"Be assured," he has been saying, "that by the
grace of God, abounding amid trials, it is well with
me; and I have very good hope of yet again enjoying
this honour, that through my means it may be well with
you:—only fix you on this, let this be your concern, to
walk as it becomes the gospel: this is the ground on
which you must win your victory; this is the line on
which alone you can make any effectual contribution to
our common welfare, and that of all the Churches." So
the Apostle urges. For, let us be assured of it, while
we debate with ourselves by what efforts and in what
The original suggests that the Apostle thinks of the Philippians as citizens of a state, who are to carry on their life according to the constitution and laws of the state to which they belong. That citizenship of theirs, as we shall afterwards see, is in heaven (ch. iii. 20), where Christ their head is gone. The privilege of belonging to it had reached them through the call of God. And it was their business on the earth to act out the citizenship, to prove the reality of it in their conduct, and to manifest to the world what sort of citizenship it is. Now the standard according to which this is to be done is the gospel of Christ—the gospel, not only as it contains a code of rules for practice, but as it reveals the Saviour to whom we are to be conformed, and discloses a Divine order of holiness and grace to the influence of which our souls are to bow. And indeed, if our thinking, and speaking, and acting held some proportion to the gospel we profess to believe; if they corresponded to the purity, the tenderness, the Divine worth of the gospel; if from step to step of life we were indeed building ourselves on our most holy faith, what manner of persons should we be? This opens more fully in the next chapter.
The Apostle, therefore, specifies what he wished to see or hear of in the Philippian Church, as proper to the circumstances in which they stood. He calls for steadfastness as against influences that might shake and overthrow, put in motion against them by the enemies of the gospel.
The words suggest the strain of the situation as it
was felt in those small early Churches. It is difficult
for us adequately to conceive it. There was the unfriendly
aspect both of Roman law and of public opinion
Against all this faith held its ground, faith clinging
to the unseen Lord. In that faith the Philippians were
to stand fast. Not only so; looking on "the faith" as
if it were a spiritual personality, striving and striven
with, they were to throw their own being and energy
In our own day a livelier sense has awakened of the obligation lying upon Christians to spend and be spent in their Master's cause, and to be fellow-helpers to the truth. Many voices are raised to enforce the duty. Still, it cannot be doubted that in most cases this aspect of the Christian calling is too languidly conceived and too intermittently put in practice. And many in all the Churches are so little qualified to labour for the faith, or even stand fast in it, that their Christianity is only held up externally by the consent and custom of those about them.
At this point and in this connection the Apostle
begins to bring forward the exhortation to peace and
unity which goes forward into the following chapter.
Apparently no steadfastness will, in his view, be "worthy
of the gospel," unless this loving unity is added. If there
was a common instinct of worldliness and unbelief,
giving unity to the influences against which the Philippians
had to contend, the operation of a mighty uniting
influence was to be expected on the other side, an
influence Divine in its origin and energy. The subject
We need not be surprised at the earnestness about peace and unity evinced in the Epistles, nor think it strange that such exhortations were required. Consider the case of these early converts. What varieties of training had formed their characters; what prejudices of diverse races and religions continued to be active in their minds. Consider also what a world of new truths had burst upon them. It was impossible they could at once take in all these in their just proportions. Various aspects of things would strike different minds, and difficulty must needs be felt about the reconciliation of them. In addition to theory, practice opened a field of easy divergence. Church life had to be developed, and Church work had to be done. Rules and precedents were lacking. Everything had to be planned and built from the foundation. The very energy of the Christian faith tended to produce energetic individualities. If all these things are weighed, instead of being surprised at the rise of difficulties we may rather wonder how interminable disagreement was averted. The temper of "standing fast" might seem perhaps likely rather to aggravate than to alleviate some of these sources of discord.
On the other hand, to the Apostle's mind a glorious
unity was one especial mark of the triumph of the
The means by which this unity was to be maintained
was chiefly the prevalence of the Christian affections in
the hearts of believers—the presence and power of that
mind of Christ, of which more must be said in connection
with the following chapter. Certainly the Apostle
Yet the same principles establish the unity of the
visible Church throughout the world, and indicate the
discharge of the duties which are necessary in order to
the expression of it. Christians differ indeed among
themselves upon the question how far the Church has
received organic institutions fitted to give expression or
embodiment to her unity; and diversity of judgment on
that point is not likely soon to be removed. For the
rest the main thing to observe is that Christ's Church
is one, in root and principle. This applies not only to
the Church invisible, but to the Church visible too.
Only the latter, as she falls short in all service and
This is too wide a subject to follow further. Meanwhile
it may be gathered from what has been said that
the most direct application of the Apostle's language
must be, not to the mutual relations of great communions,
but to the mutual relations of Christians
in the same local society. There is great room for
such an application of it. Exaggerated statements may
sometimes be made as to the indifference of Christians
in modern congregations to one another's weal or woe;
but certainly very often self-will and bitter feeling are
allowed to prevail, as if the tender ties and solemn
obligations of Christian fellowship had been forgotten.
And very often mutual ignorance, indifference, or silent
They were to stand fast then in one spirit, cherishing
that "spirit of the mind" which is the immediate fruit
of the working of the One Spirit of God, the common
gift of the Father. It is supposed that Christians know
what this is and can recognise it. But they might not
be solicitous enough to maintain it, and they might be
betrayed into preferring a spirit of their own. The
The same unity in the one spirit, with its accompanying vitality, gladness, and courage, was to characterise their active labours in the gospel. Let it be remembered that men do not make this attainment in a moment by stepping across some definite line. They grow into it by sincerity of aim, and by steadfast endeavour in the strength of Christ. In this way the "fellowship unto the gospel" (ver. 5), already so happily characteristic of the Philippians, was to grow yet more in cordiality, devotedness, and power.
Meanwhile, what were they to make of the attacks
directed against them by those who hated the gospel?
This was no doubt a very practical question. Although
persecution of the Christians had not yet revealed the
It has been said that earthly prosperity was the
promise of the Old Covenant, but adversity that of the
New. This is, at least, so far true, that the necessity
and benefit of chastening are very plainly set before us.
Such discipline is part of the salvation secured for us;
it is necessary to lead us aright to final well-being; and
it will be administered to God's children as He sees fit.
When it comes, it does not necessarily indicate special
Divine displeasure, still less Divine ill-will. It does
indicate that we have lessons to learn, attainments to
make, and faults to be purged out; it indicates also
that God is taking loving pains with us for these ends.
All these things ought to be very certain to Christians.
Yet some Christians, when their own turn comes, find
it very hard to believe so much. Pains, losses, and
disappointments, coming in the very forms they most
But Paul is occupied here with the spirit in which one special form of trial is to be dealt with. Antipathy, contempt, and persecution are bitter, very bitter to some sensitive souls; but when they come upon us as followers of Christ, and for His sake, they have a consolation proper to themselves. They are to be borne gladly, not only because all chastening is guided by fatherly love and wisdom, but because this kind of suffering is our glory. It comes to believers as part of their fellowship with Christ; and it is such a part of that fellowship as carries with it a peculiar power of assurance and confirmation. Christians share with Christ the enmity of the world's unbelief, because they share with Him the knowledge and love of the Father. If, indeed, by indulging self-will and passion (though perhaps under religious forms) we bring enmity on ourselves, then we suffer as evil-doers. But if we suffer for righteousness, the Spirit of glory and of God rests upon us. Some share of suffering for Christ comes, therefore, as God's gift to His children, and ought to be valued accordingly.
As to the exact point of the Apostle's remark on the
"token" of perdition and of salvation, two views may be
taken. In the line of what has just been said, he may
be understood to mean simply that when God allows
This is a scriptural view. Yet both here and in
The Apostle will not allow it to be overlooked that
in this point as in others his Philippian friends and
he are tied together in closest fellowship. This conflict
of theirs is the same which they had heard of
and seen as proceeding in his case too. Perhaps we
may say of this that it admonishes us not to think
too meanly of our own Christian experience, and of
the questions and decisions which it involves. The
Apostle knew that his Philippian friends regarded his
conflict as something conspicuous and great. He was
a standard bearer, on whom much depended; and then,
all the movements of his soul were magnanimous and
grand. But their own experience might seem petty—almost
"If there is therefore any comfort in Christ, if any consolation of love, if any fellowship of the Spirit, if any tender mercies and compassions, fulfil ye my joy, that ye be of the same mind, having the same love, being of one accord, of one mind; doing nothing through faction or through vainglory, but in lowliness of mind each counting other better than himself; not looking each of you to his own things, but each of you also to the things of others."—Phil. ii. 1-4 (R.V.).
But he thinks fit to press the theme in a more set
and deliberate way. For it is no light thing to awaken
in men's hearts a right impression of what it is to be a
Christian; or if it has been awakened, to nurse it to
due strength. These Christians possessed some insight
into the world of truth which held the mind of
Paul; they had some experience of evangelical impression:
in these things they had a happy fellowship
Temptations to rivalry and discord were working at Philippi. We are not obliged to think that they had gone very far; but one could see a risk that they might go further. The Apostle has it in his heart to expel this evil, by promoting the principles and dispositions that are opposed to it. And in this work the Philippians themselves must embark with all their might.
It has been remarked already that causes are easily
found to account for rivalries and misunderstandings
springing up in those primitive Christian congregations.
The truth is, however, that in all ages and conditions
of the Church these dangers are nigh at hand. Self-seeking
and self-exaltation are forms in which sin
works most easily, and out of these come rivalry and
discord by the very nature of the case. Eager grasping
It may be asked how this should be, if the Philippians
were genuine and hearty Christians, such as the
Apostle's commendations bespeak them? Here a
principle comes to light which deserves to be considered.
Even those who have cordially embraced Christianity,
and who have loyally given effect to it in some of its
outstanding applications, are wonderfully prone to stop
short. They do not perceive, or they do not care to
realise, the bearing of the same principles, which they
have already embraced, upon whole regions of human
life and human character; they do not seriously lay to
heart the duties Christianity imposes or the faults it
rebukes in those departments. They are pleased to
have won so much ground, and do not think about the
Canaanites that still hold their ground. So, in whole
regions of life, the carnal mind is allowed to work on,
undetected and practically unopposed. This tendency
is aided by the facility we have in disguising from
ourselves the true character of dispositions and actions,
when these do not quite plainly affront Christian rules.
Self-assertion and bad temper, for example, can put
on the character of honest firmness and hearty zeal.
More particularly, when religious principles have led
us into certain lines of action, we are apt to take for
granted that all is right we do in those lines. Religious
zeal leads a man to take trouble and incur responsibility
In all this we may feel ourselves in the region of commonplaces; we know it all so well. But the very point in hand is that for the Apostle these are not commonplaces. He is greatly in earnest about the matter, and his heart is full of it. We do not understand him until we begin to sympathise with his sorrow and his anxiety. This is for him no mere matter of expediencies or of appearances. He is striving for the victory of grace in the souls of his beloved friends; for the glory of Christ; for his own comfort and success as Christ's minister. All these are, as it were, at stake upon this question of the life of the Philippian Church proving to be, under the influence of Christ, lowly, loving, and answerable to the gospel.
No one more than Paul appreciates the value of
good theological principles; and no one more than he
lays stress on the mercy which provides a gracious and
a full salvation. But no one more than he is intent
In four clauses the Apostle appeals to great Christian motives, which are to give strength to his main appeal—"If there be any comfort (or store of cheering counsel) in Christ Jesus, if any consolation of love, if any fellowship of the Spirit, if any tender mercies or compassions"; in a fifth clause he draws a motive from the regard they might have for his own most earnest desires—"fulfill ye my joy"; and then comes the exhortation itself, which is to unity of mind and heart—"that ye be of the same mind, having the same love, being of one accord, of one mind." This, in turn, is followed by clauses that fix the practical sense of the general exhortation.
It has been made a question whether the Apostle
means to say, "If there be among you, Philippians,
influences and experiences such as these," or "If there
be anywhere in the Church of God." But surely he
means both. He appeals to great practical articles of
faith and matters of experience. The Church of God
believes them and claims a part in them. So does the
The "comfort" or cheering counsel "in Christ" is the fulness of gospel help and promise. Great need of this is owned by all believers; and, coming as needed succour to them all, it may well bind them all together in the sense of common need and common help. As it comes from the good Shepherd Himself to all and each, so it is conceived to be ever sounding in the Church, passing from one believer to another, addressed by each to each as common succour and common comfort. Hence, in the next place, there comes into view the mutual ministry of "consolation" which Christians owe to one another, since they "receive" one another, and are to do to one another as Christ has done to them. Here the consolation acquires a special character, from the individual affection and friendship breathed into it by the Christian, who carries it to his neighbour to encourage and cheer him on his way. This love of the Christian to his brother, which comes from God, is itself a means of grace; and therefore the "consolation of love" deserves to be distinctly named.
The "fellowship of the Spirit" (see
Therefore, in the fourth place, it is to be supposed that "tender mercies and compassions" in human breasts are abundant where the fellowship of the Spirit is. How abundant they might be: surely also in some measure they must be present; they must abound, amid all human infirmities and mistakes. All kinds of gentle, friendly, faithful, wise and patient dispositions might be expected. They are the fruits of the country in which Christians have come to dwell.
To all these the Apostle appeals. Perhaps a pathos is audible in the form of his appeal. "If there be any." Alas! is there then any? Is there some at least, if not much? For if all these had been duly present to the faith and in the life of the Church, they would have spoken their lesson for themselves, and had not needed Paul to speak for them.
The form of appeal "Fulfil ye my joy" brings up
one more motive—the earnest desires of one who loved
them wisely and well, and whom they, whatever their
shortcomings, loved in turn. It is worth observing that
the motive power here does not lie merely in the consideration
"Would you not like to give me pleasure?"
The Philippians knew how Paul had at heart their true
welfare and their true dignity. That which, if it came
to pass, would so gladden him, must be something great
In regard to all these considerations, the main point
is to catch sight of the moral and spiritual scenery as
the Apostle saw it. Otherwise the words may leave us
as dull as they found us. For him there had come into
view a wonderful world of love. Love had come forth
preparing at great cost and with great pains a new
destiny for men. Love had brought in Paul and the
other believers, one by one, into this higher region.
And it proved to be a region in which love was the
ground on which they stood, and love the heaven over
their heads, and love the air they breathed. And here
love was coming to be their own new nature, love
responsive to the love of Father, Son, and Spirit, and
love going out from those who had been so blessed
to bless and gladden others. This was the true, the
eternal goodness, the true, the eternal blessedness; and
it was theirs. This was what faith embraced in Him
"who loved me and gave Himself for me." This was
what faith claimed right to be and do. If this was not
so, Christianity was reduced to nothing. If a man have
not love, he is nothing (
It is obvious to say here that cases might arise in
which turbulent or contentious persons might make it
impossible for the rest of the Church, however well disposed,
to secure either one accord or one mind. But
the Apostle does not suppose that case to have arisen.
Nothing had occurred at Philippi which Christian
sense and Christian feeling might not arrange. When
the case supposed does occur, there are Christian ways
of dealing with it. Still more obviously one might say
that conscientious differences of opinion, and that even
on matters of moment, must inevitably occur sooner or
later; and a general admonition to be of one mind does
not meet such a case. Perhaps it may be said in reply
that the Church and the Christians have hardly conceived
how much might be attained in the way of agreement if
our Christianity were sincere enough, thorough enough,
and affectionate enough. In that case there might
In following out the line of duty and privilege set before them by the Apostle, Christians have to get the better of arrogance and selfishness (vv. 3, 4).
In the Church of Christ no man has a right to do
anything from a spirit of strife or vainglory. Strife is
the disposition to oppose and thwart our neighbour's
will, either from mere delight in contest, or in order to
assert for our own will a prevalence which will gratify
our pride; and this is the animating principle of
"faction." "Vainglory" is the disposition to think
highly of ourselves, to claim for ourselves a great place,
and to assert it as against the claims of others. In the
jostle of the world it may perhaps be admitted that
forces acting on these lines are not without their use.
They compensate one another, and some measure of
good emerges from their unlovely energies. But such
things are out of place among Christians, for they are
right against the spirit of Christianity; and Christianity
relies for its equipoise and working progress on principles
of quite another kind. Among Christians each
is to be lowly-minded, conscious of his own defects
and of his ill-desert. And this is to work in the way
of our esteeming others to be better than ourselves.
For we are conscious of our own inward and deep
defect as we cannot be of any other person's. And it
is abundantly possible that others may be better than
Selfishness ("looking to its own things," ver. 4), as well as arrogance, needs to be resisted; and this is an even more pervading and inward evil. In dealing with it we are not required to have no eye at all to our own things; for indeed they are our providential charge, and they must be cared for; but we are required to look not only on our own, but every man on the things of others. We have to learn to put ourselves in another's place, to recognise how things affect him, to sympathise with his natural feelings in reference to them, and to give effect in speech and conduct to the impressions hence arising. So a Christian man is to "love his neighbour as himself"—only with a tenderer sense of obligation and a consciousness of more constraining motive than could be attained by the Israelite of old. Lovingly to do right to a brother's claims and to his welfare should be as cogent a principle of action with us as to care for our own.
Arrogance and selfishness—perhaps disguised in
fairer forms—had bred the disturbance at Philippi.
"Have this mind in you, which was also in Christ Jesus: who, being in the form of God, counted it not a prize to be on an equality with God, but emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant, being made in the likeness of men; and being found in fashion as a man, He humbled Himself, becoming obedient even unto death, yea, the death of the cross. Wherefore also God highly exalted Him, and gave unto Him the name which is above every name; that in the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven and things on earth and things under the earth, and that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father."—Phil. ii. 5-11 (R.V.).
Having to deal with this evil energy of self, the Apostle turns at once to the central truth of Christianity, the person of Christ. Here he finds the type set, the standard fixed, of what Christianity is and means: or rather, here he finds a great fountain, from which a mighty stream proceeds; and before it all the forms of self-worship must be swept away. In bringing this out the Apostle makes a most remarkable statement regarding the Incarnation and the history of our Lord. He reveals, at the same time, the place in his own mind held by the thought of Christ coming into the world, and the influence that thought had exerted on the formation of his character. He bids us recognise in Christ the supreme exemplification of one who is looking away from his own things—whose mind is filled, whose action is inspired by concern for others. This is so at the root of the interposition of Christ to save us, that the principle becomes imperative and supreme for all Christ's followers.
We have to consider the facts as they presented themselves to the mind of Paul, according to the wisdom given to him, that we may estimate the motive which he conceives them to reveal, and the obligation which is thus laid upon all who name the name of Christ and take rank among His followers.
The Apostle, let us first observe, speaks of the Incarnation
First, our Lord is recognised as already existing
before the beginning of His earthly history; and in that
existence He contemplates and orders what His course
shall be. This is plain; for in the seventh verse He
is spoken of as emptying Himself, and thus assuming
the likeness of men. For the Apostle, then, it was a
fixed thing that He who was born in Nazareth pre-existed
in a more glorious nature, and took ours by a
notable condescension. This pre-existence of Christ is
the first thing to consider when we would make clear
to ourselves how Christ, being true man, differs from
Frequently we use this word "form" in a way
which contrasts it with the true being, or makes it
denote the outward as opposed to the inward. But
according to the usage which prevailed among thinking
men when the Apostle wrote, the expression should
not be understood to point to anything superficial,
accidental, superimposed. No doubt it is an expression
which describes the Being by adverting to the attributes
which, as it were, He wore, or was clothed with. But
the word carries us especially to those attributes of the
thing described which are characteristic; by which it
is permanently distinguished to the eye or to the mind;
which denote its true nature because they rise out of
that nature; the attributes which, to our minds, express
the essence. So here. He existed, how? In
the possession and use of all that pertains to the Divine
nature. His manner of existence was, what? The
Divine manner of existence. The characters through
If any one should suggest that, according to this text, the pre-existent Christ might be only a creature, though having the Divine attributes and the Divine mode of life, he would introduce a mass of contradictions most gratuitously. The Apostle's thought is simply this: For Christ the mode of existence is first of all Divine; then, by-and-by, a new form rises into view. Our Lord's existence did not begin (according to the New Testament writers) when He was born, when He was found in fashion as a man, sojourning with us. He came to this world from some previous state. One asks from what state? Before He took the form of man, in what form of existence was He found? The Apostle answers, In the form of God.
To Him, therefore, with and in the Father, we have learned to ascribe all wisdom and power, all glory and blessedness, all holiness and all majesty. Specially, through Him the worlds were made, and in Him they consist. The fulness, the sufficiency, the essential strength of Godhead were His. The exercise and manifestation of all these was His form of being. One might expect, then, that in any process of self-manifestation to created beings in which it might please Him to go forth, the expression of His supremacy and transcendence should be written on the face of it.
I think a good deal can be said for this. But the
sense which, on the whole, is now approved by commentators
is that indicated by the Revised Version. This
takes the clause not as still dwelling on the primeval
glory of the Son of God, and what was implied in it,
but rather as beginning to indicate how a new situation
arose, pointing out the dispositions out of which the
Incarnation came. "He counted it not a prize to be on
an equality with God." To hold by this was not the
great object with Him. In any steps He might take,
in any forthgoings He might enter on, the Son of God
might have aimed at maintaining and disclosing equality
with God. That alternative was open. But this is not Various shades of meaning have been proposed. Meyer, whose
opinion has weight, virtually interprets in this way: He did not
reckon equality with God (which was His) to imply or to be fitly
exercised in acquisition, or in accumulation of benefit to Himself: and
Hofmann, after supporting another view, appears (in his Hist. Schrift.
N. T.) to agree with this. To be equal to God, and to put forth power
for His own enrichment, were for the Son very different things. The
one He possessed: the other He renounced.
On the contrary, "He emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant, being made in the likeness of men." In the Incarnation our Lord assumed the "form" of a servant, or slave: for in the room of the authority of the Creator, now appears the subjection of the creature. He who gave form to all things, and Himself set the type of what was highest and best in the universe, transcending meanwhile all created excellence in His uncreated glory, now is seen conforming Himself to the type or model or likeness of one of His creatures, of man. He comes into human existence as men do, and He continues in it as men do. Yet it is not said that He is now merely a man, or has become nothing but a man; He is in the likeness of men and is found in fashion as a man.
In taking this great step the Apostle says "He
It seems most certain, on the one hand, that this cannot import that He who was with God and was God could renounce His own essential nature and cease to be Divine. The assertion of a contradiction like this involves the mind in mere darkness. The notion is excluded by other scriptures; for He who came on earth among us is Immanuel, God with us: and it is not required by the passage before us; for the "emptying" can at most apply to the "form" of God—the exercise and enjoyment of Divine attributes such as adequately express the Divine nature; and it may, perhaps, not extend its sense even so far; for the writer significantly abstains from carrying his thought further than the bare word "He emptied Himself."
On the other hand, we are to beware of weakening
unduly this great testimony. Certainly it fixes our
thoughts on this, at least, that our Lord, by becoming
man, had for His, truly for His, the experience of human
limitation, human weakness and impoverishment, human
dependence, human subjection, singularly contrasting
with the glory and plenitude of the form of God. This
became His. It was so emphatically real, it became at
the Incarnation so emphatically the form of existence
on which He entered, that it is the thing eminently
Various persons and schools have thought it right to go further. The word here used has appeared to them to suggest that if the Son of God did not renounce His Godhead, yet the Divine nature in Him must have bereaved itself of the Divine attributes, or withheld itself from the use and exercise of them; so that the all-fulness no longer was at His disposal. In this line they have gone on to describe or assign the mode of self-emptying which the Incarnation should imply.
It does not appear to me that one can lay down positions as to the internal privations of One whose nature is owned to be essentially Divine, without falling into confusion and darkening counsel. But perhaps we may do well to cherish the impression that this self-emptying on the part of the eternal Son of God, for our salvation, involves realities which we cannot conceive or put in any words. There was more in this emptying of Himself than we can think or say.
He emptied Himself when He became man. Here
we have the eminent example of a Divine mystery,
which, being revealed, remains a mystery never to be
adequately explained, and which yet proves full of
meaning and full of power. The Word was made flesh.
He through whom all worlds took being, was seen in
He emptied Himself, "taking the form of a servant," or bondslave. For the creature is in absolute subjection alike to God's authority and to His providence; and so Christ came to be. He entered on a discipline of subjection and obedience. In particular He was made after the likeness of men. He was born as other children are; He grew as other children grow; body and mind took shape for Him under human conditions.
And so He was "found in fashion as a man." Could
words express more strongly how wonderful it is in the
Apostle's eyes that He should so be found? He lived
His life and made His mark in the world in human
fashion—His form, His mien, His speech, His acts,
His way of life declared Him man. But being so, He
humbled Himself to a strange and great obedience.
Subjection, and in that subjection obedience, is the part
of every creature. But the obedience which Christ
was called to learn was special. A heavy task was
laid upon Him. He was made under the law; and
bearing the burden of human sin, He wrought redemption.
In doing so many great interests fell to Him to
be cared for; and this was done by Him, not in the
manner of Godhead which speaks and it is done, but
with the pains and labour of a faithful servant. "I
have a commandment," He said, as He faced the Jews,
This experience deepened into the final experience of
the cross. Death is the signature of failure and disgrace.
Even with sinless creatures it seems so. Their
beauty and their use are past; their worth is measured
and exhausted; they die. More emphatically in a nature
like ours, which aims at fellowship with God and
immortality, death is significant this way, and bears the
character of doom. So we are taught to think that
death entered by sin. But the violent and cruel death
of crucifixion, inflicted for the worst crimes, is most
significant this way. What it comprehended for our
Lord we cannot measure. We know that He looked
forward to it with the most solemn expectation; and
when it came the experience was overwhelming. Yes,
He submitted to the doom and blight of death, in which
death He made atonement and finished transgression.
The Incarnation was the way in which our Lord bound
Himself to our woful fortunes, and carried to us the
benefits with which He would enrich us; and His
death was for our sins, endured that we might live. But
the Apostle does not here dwell on the reasons why
Christ's obedience must take this road. It is enough
that for reasons concerning our welfare, and the worthy
achievement of the Father's Divine purposes, Christ
bowed Himself to so great lowliness. A dark and sad
death—a true obedience unto death—became the portion
of the Son of God. "I am the Living One, and I was
"Therefore God also hath highly exalted Him, and given Him the Name that is above every name." For still we must think of Him as One that has come down into the region of the creatures, the region in which we are distinguished by names, and are capable of higher and lower in endless degrees. God, dealing with Him so situated, acts in a manner rightly corresponding to this great self-dedication, so as to utter God's mind upon it. He has set Him on high, and given Him the Name that is above every name; so that Divine honour shall be rendered to Him by all creation, and knees bowed in worship to Him everywhere, and all shall own Him Lord—that is, partaker of Divine Sovereignty. All this is "to the glory of the Father," seeing that in all this the worthiness and beauty of God's being and ways come to light with a splendour heretofore unexampled.
So then, we may say, perhaps, that as in the humiliation He who is God experienced what it is to be man, now in the exaltation He who is man experiences what it is to be God.
But the point to dwell on chiefly is this consideration—What
is it that attracts so specially the Father's
approbation? What does so is Christ's great act of
self-forgetting love. That satisfies and rests the Divine
mind. Doubtless the Son's pure and perfect character,
and the perfection of His whole service, were on all
For, in the first place, Christ in this work of His is Himself the revelation of the Father. All along the Father's heart is seen disclosed. It was in fellowship with the Father, always delighting in Him, that the history was entered on; in harmony with Him it was accomplished. Throughout we have before us not only the mind of the Son, but the mind of the Father that sent Him.
And then, in the next place, as the Son, sent forth into the world, and become one of us, and subject to vicissitude, accomplishes His course, it is fitting for the Father to watch, to approve, and to crown the service; and He who has so given Himself for God and man must take the place due to such a "mind" and to such an obedience.
Let us observe it then: what was in God's eye and
ought to be in ours, is not only the dignity of the person,
the greatness of the condescension, the perfection
of obedience and patience of endurance, but, in the
heart of all these, the mind of Christ. That was the
inspiration of the whole marvellous history, vivifying it
throughout. Christ, indeed, was not One who could so
care for us, as to fail in His regard to any interest of
His Father's name or kingdom; nor could He take any
course really unseemly, because unworthy of Himself.
But carrying with Him all that is due to His Father,
How all this was and is in the Eternal Son in His Divine nature we cannot suitably conceive. In some most sublime and perfect manner we own it to be there. But we can think of it and speak of it as the "mind of Christ": as it came to light in the Man of Bethlehem, who, amid all the possibilities of the Incarnation, is seen setting His face so steadily one way, whose life is all of one piece, and to whom we ascribe GRACE. "Ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ." Therefore God has highly exalted Him, and given Him the Name that is above every name. This is the right way. This is the right life.
Are we followers of Christ? Are we in touch with
His grace? Do we yield ourselves to His will and
The Church of Christ has not been without likeness to its Lord, and service to its Lord: yet it has come far short in showing to the world the mind of Christ. We often "show the Lord's death." But in His death were the mighty life and the conclusive triumph of Christ's love. Let the life also of Christ Jesus be manifest in our mortal body.
We see here what the vision of Christ was which
opened itself to Paul,—which, glowing in his heart,
sent him through the world, seeking the profit of many,
that they might be saved. This was in his mind, the
A line of contemplation, hard to follow yet inspiring, opens up in considering the Incarnation of our Lord as permanent. No day is coming in which that shall have to be looked upon as gone away into the past. This is suggestive as to the tie between Creator and creature, as to the bridge between Infinite and finite, to be evermore found in Him. But it may suffice here to have indicated the topic.
It is more to the point, in connection with this
passage, to call attention to a lesson for the present
"So then, my beloved, even as ye have always obeyed, not as in my presence only, but now much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God which worketh in you both to will and to work, for His good pleasure. Do all things without murmurings and disputings; that ye may be blameless and harmless, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom ye are seen as lights in the world, holding forth the word of life; that I may have whereof to glory in the day of Christ, that I did not run in vain neither labour in vain. Yea, and if I am offered upon the sacrifice and service of your faith, I joy, and rejoice with you all: and in the same manner do ye also joy, and rejoice with me."—Phil. ii. 12-18 (R.V.).
So then they are to apply themselves to the "calling
wherewith they are called," in a spirit of "fear and
trembling." The phrase is a common one with the
Apostle (
1. If lowliness so became the Divine Saviour, who was full of grace, wisdom, and power, then what shall be the mind of those who in great guilt and need have found part in the salvation, and who are going forward to its fulness? What shall be the mind of those who, in this experience, are looking up to Christ—looking up to lowliness? Surely not the spirit of strife and vainglory (ver. 3), but of fear and trembling—the mind that dreads to be presumptuous and arrogant, because it finds the danger to be still near.
2. The salvation has to be wrought out. It must
come to pass in your case in the line of your own endeavour.
Having its power and fulness in Christ, and
3. This very working out, from whom does it come? Are you the explanation and last source of it? What does it mean? Wherever it takes place, it means that, in a very special sense, God's mighty presence and power is put forth in us to will and to do. Shall not this thought quell our petulance? Where is room now for anything but fear and trembling—a deep anxiety to be lowly, obedient, compliant?
Whether, therefore, we look to the history of the
Saviour, or to the work to which our own life is
devoted, or to the power that animates that work and
Now all this is by the Apostle persuasively urged upon
his Philippian children (ver. 12): "As ye have always
obeyed, not as in my presence only, but now much
more in my absence." For, indeed, it proves easy
comparatively for our human indolence to yield to the
spell of some great and forcible personality when he
is present. It is even pleasant to allow ourselves to
be borne on by the tide of his enthusiastic goodness.
And when the Apostle was at Philippi, it might come
easier to many of them to feel the force and scope of
their calling in Christ. And yet now that he was gone,
now was the time for them to prove for themselves,
and evince to others, the durable worth of the great
discovery they had made, and the thoroughness of the
decision which had transformed their lives. Now, also,
Such in general seems to be the scope of these two verses. But one or two of the points deserve to be considered a little before we go on.
Mark how emphatically the Apostle affirms the great
truth, that every good thing accompanying salvation
which comes to pass in Christians is of the mighty
power and grace of God. Therefore Christianity must
stand so much in asking and in thanking. It is God
that worketh in you. He does it, and no other than He;
it is His prerogative. He worketh to will and to do.
The inclination of the heart and the purpose of the
will are of Him; and the striving to bring forth into
act and deed what has been so conceived—that also is
of Him. He quickens those who were dead in trespasses
and sins; He gives the renewing of the Holy
Ghost; He makes His children perfect, working in them
that which is well pleasing in His sight through Jesus
Christ. All this He does in the exercise of His proper
power, in the "exceeding greatness of His power to us-ward
who believe"—"according to the working of His
mighty power, which wrought in Christ when He was
raised from the dead." Apparently we are to take it
that in the children of God there is the new heart, or
new nature, in respect of which they are new creatures;
and also the indwelling of God by His Spirit; and
also the actual working of the same Spirit in all fruits
He worketh to will and to do. From Him all godly desires and purposes proceed—from Him, every passage in our lives in which the "salvation that is in Christ Jesus" is by us received, put to proof, wrought out into the transactions of our lives. It must be so, if we will only think of it. For this "salvation" involves an actual, and in principle a complete agreement with God, affirmed and embodied in each right thought, and word, and deed. Whence could this flow but from Himself?
In their statements and explanations about this
Christians have differed. The difference has been
mainly on the point, how to make it clear that men
are not dealt with as inert nor as irresponsible; that
they must not hold themselves excused from working
on the ground that God works all. For all agree that
men are called to the most serious earnestness of
purpose and the most alert activity of action; but the
theorising of this activity occasions debate. It is
from the motive of trying to make more room for these
indispensable elements on the human side, that modes
of statement have been suggested which limit or explain
away the Apostle's statement here. The motive is commendable,
but the method is not commonly successful.
All efforts to divide the ground between God and man
He worketh in us to will. When I trace back any
of my actions to the fountain where it takes its rise as
mine, I find that fountain in my will. The materials
which I take up into my act, the impressions which
gather together to create a situation for me, may all
have their separate history going back in the order of
cause and effect to the beginning of the world; but
that which makes it mine, is that I will, I choose, and
thereupon I do it. Therefore also it is that I must
answer for it, because it is mine. I willed it, and in
willing it I created something which pertains to me,
and to no other; something began which is mine, and
the responsibility for it cleaves only to me. But in the
return to God through Christ, and in the working out
of that salvation, there are acts of mine, most truly
mine; and yet in these another Will, the Will of Him
who saves, is most intimately concerned. He worketh
in us to will. It is not an enslaving, but an emancipating
On the other hand, the salvation is to be wrought
out by us. To have faith in the Son of God in exercise
and prevalence; to have heart and life formed to
childlike love of God, and to the fulfilment of His will;
to carry this out against the flesh and the world and
the devil,—all this is a great career of endeavour and
attainment. It is much to make the discoveries implied
in it: finding out at each stage the meaning of it, and
how it should take shape. It is much to have the heart
brought to beat true to it, to love it, consent to it, be
set upon it. It is much to embody it in faithful and
successful practice in the rough school of life, with its
actual collision and conflict. Now the nature and
working of God's grace at each stage is of this kind,
that it operates in three ways at least. It operates
as a call, an effectual call, setting a man on to arise
and go. It operates also in a way of instruction,
setting us to learn lessons, teaching us how to live,
as it is said in
Now what has been said of the believer's relation to the saving God, prepares the way for referring to his office towards the world. Here the moral and practical theme which is in the Apostle's mind all through proves again to be in place: the lowly and loving mind will best discharge that office towards the world, which the arrogant and distempered mind would hinder. "Do all things without murmurings and disputings, that ye may be blameless and harmless."
A murmuring and disputatious temper—murmuring
at what displeases us, and multiplying debate about
it—is simply one form of the spirit which Paul deprecates
all through this context. It is the sign of the
disposition to value unduly one's own ease, one's own
will, one's own opinion, one's own party, and to lie
at the catch for opportunities to bring that feeling into
evidence. Now observe the harm which the Apostle
anticipates. It is your office to serve God by making
a right impression on the world. How shall that come
to pass? Chiefly, or at least primarily, the Apostle
seems to say, by the absence of evil. At least, that
is the most general and the safest notion of it, with
which to begin. Some, no doubt, make impressions
by their eloquence, or by their wisdom, or by their
Now murmuring and disputing are precisely adapted to hinder this impression. And sometimes they hinder it in the case of people of high excellence—people who have much sound and strong principle, who have large benevolence, who are capable of making remarkable sacrifices to duty when they see it. Yet this vice, perhaps a surface vice, of murmuring and disputing, is so suggestive of a man's self being uppermost, it so unpleasantly forces itself in as the interpretation of the man, that his real goodness is little accounted of. At all events, the peculiar purity of the Christian character—its blamelessness and harmlessness, its innocence—does not in his case come to light. People say: "Ah, he is one of the mixed ones, like ourselves. Christian devoutness suits some people: they are sincere enough in it very likely; but it leaves them, after all, pretty much as it found them."
I say no more about murmuring and disputing as
these reveal themselves in our relations to others. But
the same spirit, and attended in its operations with the
Just as in the camp of Israel of old on many
memorable occasions there arose a murmuring of the
people against God, when His ways crossed their will,
or seemed dark to their wisdom; just as, on such
occasions, there broke out among the people the expression
of doubt, dislike, and disputation, and they
criticised those Divine dealings which should have been
received with trust and lowliness,—so is it also, many
a time, in the little world within us. There are such
and such duties to be discharged and such and such
trials to be encountered—or else a general course of
duty is to be pursued under certain discouragements
and perplexities. And, you submit, you do these things.
But you do them with murmuring and disputing in
your heart. Why should it be thus? "How is it fit,"
you say, "that such perplexities or such burdens should
be appointed? Is it not reasonable, all things considered,
that I should have more indulgence and greater
facilities; or, at least, that I should be excused from
this conflict and this burden-bearing for the present?"
Meanwhile our conscience is satisfied because we have
not rebelled in practice; and it takes no strict account
of the fretfulness which marred our act, or
the grumbling which well-nigh withheld us from
Notice the Apostle's conception of the function which
believers are to discharge in the world. They are set
in the midst of a crooked and perverse nation. These
words were applied to the children of Israel of old on
account of the stubborn insubordination with which
they dealt with God; and they were applicable, for
the same reason, to the Gentiles, among whom the
It has been remarked already that the special way
in which we are to manifest to the world the light of
Christianity is here represented as the way of blamelessness.
That man aright represents the mind of
Christ to the world, who in the world keeps himself
unspotted from the world,—in whom men recognise
a character that traces up to a purer source elsewhere.
As years pass, as cross lights fall upon the life, even
in its most common and private workings, if it still
proves that the man is cleansed by the faith he holds,
if the unruly working of interest, and passion, and will,
give way in him to motives of a higher strain, men
will be impressed. They will own that here is something
rare and high, and that some uncommon cause
is at the bottom of it. For the world knows well that
even the better sort of men have their weaker side,
Innocence indeed is not the whole duty of a Christian; active virtue is required as well. The harmlessness called for is not a mere negative quality—it is supposed to be exhibited in an active life which strives to put on Christ Jesus. But the Apostle seems to lay stress especially on a certain quiet consistency, on a lowly and loving regard to the whole standard, which gives evenness and worthiness to the life. If you will do a Christian's office to the "perverse nation," you have to seek that they may have nothing against you except concerning the law of your God; you have to seek that your reproach may be exclusively the reproach of Christ: so that if at any time the malice of men seeks to misconstrue your actions, and lays to your charge things which you know not, your well-doing may silence them; and having no evil thing to say of you, they may be ashamed that falsely accuse your good conversation in Christ.
Strong appeals are made in our day to members of
the Christian Church to engage actively in all kinds of
Christian work. They are summoned to go forth
aggressively upon the world's misery and sin. This
has become a characteristic note of our time. Such
appeals were needed. It is a shame that so many
Christians have absolved themselves from the obligation
to place at their Lord's service the aptitudes
Blameless, then, harmless, unaspersed, must the children
of God, His redeemed children, be. So will the
The word of life is the message of salvation as it sets
forth to us Christ, and goodness and blessedness by
Him. Substantially it is that teaching which we have
in the Scriptures; although, when Paul wrote, the New
Testament was not yet a treasure of the Churches, and
the "word of life" only echoed to and fro from teacher
to taught, and from one disciple to another. Still, the
teaching rested on the Old Testament Scriptures understood
in the light of the testimony of Jesus; and it was
controlled and guided by men speaking and writing in
the Spirit. What it was therefore was very well
known, and the influence of it as the seed of life eternal
was felt. It was for Christians to hold by it, and to
hold it out,—the expression used in ver. 16 may have
either meaning; and virtually both senses are here. In
order to give light there must be life. And Christian life
depends on having in us the word, quick and powerful,
which is to dwell in us richly in all wisdom and
spiritual understanding. This must be the secret of
blameless Christian lives; and so those who have this
character will give light, as holding forth the word of
life. The man's visible character itself does this. For
while the word and message of life is to be owned,
professed, in fit times proclaimed, yet the embodiment
of it in the man is the main point here, the character
being formed and the practice determined by the
"word" believed. So also we are said to live by the
Here, as everywhere, our Lord goes first. The Apostle John, speaking in his Gospel of the Eternal Word, tells us that in Him was life, and the life was the light of men. It was not merely a doctrine of light; the life was the light. As He lived, in His whole being, in His acting and suffering, in His coming and staying and departing, in His Person and in His discharge of every office, He manifested the Father. Still we find it so; as we contemplate Him, as His words leads us to Himself, we behold the glory, the radiance of grace and truth.
Now His people are made like Him. They too, through the word of life, become partakers of true life. This life does not dwell in them as it does in their Lord, for He is its original seat and source; hence they are not the light of the world in the same sense in which He is so. Still they are luminaries, they are stars in the world. By manifesting the genuine influence of the word of life which dwells in them, they do make manifest in the world what truth and purity and salvation are. This is their calling; and, in a measure, it is their attainment.
The view of the matter given here may be compared
with that in
So to shine is the calling of all believers, not of some only; each, according to his opportunities, may and ought to fulfil it. God designs to be glorified, and to have His salvation justified, in this form. Christ has said, in the plainest terms, "Ye are the light of the world." But to be so implies separateness from the world, in root and in fruits; and that is for many a hard saying. "Ye are a holy nation, a peculiar people, that ye should show forth the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvellous light."
In the sixteenth and following verses comes in again
Paul's own share in the progress and victory of the
Christian life in his friends. "It would be exceeding
well," he seems to say, "for you; how well, you may
gather partly from learning how well it would be for me."
He would have cause to "rejoice in the day of Christ"
that he had "not run in vain, neither laboured in vain."
What might be said on this has been anticipated in
the remarks made on ch. i., ver. 20 fol. But here the
Apostle is thinking of something more than the toil
and labour expended in the work. More than these
was to fall to his lot. His life of toil was to close in a
death of martyrdom. And whether the Apostle was or
was not enabled to foresee this certainly, doubtless he
looked forward to it as altogether probable. So he
says: "But if I be offered (or poured out as a drink-offering)
in the sacrifice and service of your faith, I
To see the force of this expression we must remember that it was an ancient custom to seal and complete a sacrifice by the pouring out of a libation on the altar or at the foot of it. This might be intended as the crowning testimony of the abundant freewill with which the service had been rendered and the sacrifice had been offered. To some such rite the Apostle alludes when he speaks of himself—that is to say, of his own life—as poured forth at the sacrifice and service of their faith. And it is not hard to understand the idea which dictates this mode of speech.
We read in
Here let us notice, as we pass, that no religion is worth the name that has not its sacrifice through which the worshipper expresses his devotion. And in Christian religion the sacrifice is the consecration of the man and of his life to God's service in Christ. Let us all see to it what sacrifices we offer.
This doctrine, then, of the priesthood and the sacrifice
was verified in the case of the Philippians; and, by the
same rule, it held true also in the case of Paul himself.
He, as little as they, was priest to make atonement.
But certainly when we see Paul so cordially yielding
himself to the service of God in the gospel, and discharging
his work with such willing labour and pains,
we see in him one of Christ's priests offering himself to
God a living sacrifice. Now is this all? or is something
more to be said of Paul? More is to be said;
and although the point now in view is not prominent
in this passage, it is present as the underlying thought.
For the whole sacrifice of holy life rendered by the
Philippians, and by his other converts, was, in a sense,
the offering of Paul also; not theirs only, but his too.
God gave him a standing in the matter, which he, at
least, was not to overlook. God's grace, indeed, had
wrought the work, and Paul was but an instrument;
yet so an instrument, that he had a living and abiding
interest in the result. He was not an instrument
mechanically interposed, but one whose faith and love
There remains but one step to be made, to reach the
seventeenth verse. Consider the Apostle's heart glowing
with the thought that God counted the holy fruits of
those believing lives to be sacrifice and service of his,
as well as theirs, and accepted it not only from their
hands, but from Paul's too. Consider the gladness with
which he felt that after all his toil and pains he had this
great offering to bring, as his thank-offering to his Lord.
And then imagine him hearing a voice which says:
It may give cause for thought to ministers of the
gospel that the Apostle should so vitally and vividly
But may not all Christian hearts be stirred to see the devotedness and the love which filled this man's soul? The constraining power of the love of Christ so wrought in him that he triumphed and rejoiced both in bringing and in becoming an offering,—breaking out, as it were, into sacrifice and service, and pouring out his life an offering to the Father and the Son. All hearts may be stirred; for all, perhaps, can imagine such a mood. But how many of us have it as a principle and a passion entering into our own lives?
"But I hope in the Lord Jesus to send Timothy shortly unto you, that I also may be of good comfort, when I know your state. For I have no man likeminded, who will care truly [genuinely] for your state. For they all seek their own, not the things of Jesus Christ. But ye know the proof of him, that, as a child serveth a father, so he served with me in furtherance of the gospel. Him therefore I hope to send forthwith, so soon as I shall see how it will go with me: but I trust in the Lord that I myself also shall come shortly. But I counted it necessary to send to you Epaphroditus, my brother and fellow-worker and fellow-soldier, and your messenger and minister to my need; since he longed after you all, and was sore troubled, because ye had heard that he was sick: for indeed he was sick nigh unto death: but God had mercy on him; and not on him only, but on me also, that I might not have sorrow upon sorrow. I have sent him therefore the more diligently, that, when ye see him again, ye may rejoice, and that I may be the less sorrowful. Receive him therefore in the Lord with all joy; and hold such in honour: because for the work of Christ he came nigh unto death, hazarding his life to supply that which was lacking in your service toward me."—Phil. ii. 19-30 (R.V.).
Paul had been contemplating the possibility of dying
soon in his Master's cause: no doubt it was an alternative
often present to his mind; and we see with
what a glow of high association it rose before him.
Still he, like ourselves, had to await his Master's will,
had meanwhile to carry on the business of his life, and
indeed (ch. i. 25) was aware that the prolongation of his
life might very likely be a course of things more in the
line of God's purpose, and more serviceable to the
Churches at Philippi and elsewhere. So, while he has
1. Notice the spirit of self-sacrifice on Paul's part.
Timothy was the one thoroughly trusted and congenial
friend within his reach. To a man who was a prisoner,
and on whom the burden of many anxieties fell, it was
no small ease to have one such friend beside him. Our
blessed Lord Himself craved for loving human fellowship
in His time of sorrow; and so must Paul do also.
Yet all must give way to the comfort and well-being of
the Churches. As soon as Paul can descry how it is to
2. Notice the importance which may justly attach to human instrumentalities. One is not as good as another. Some are far more fit for use than others are. The Apostle thought earnestly on the point who was fittest to go, and he was glad he had a man like Timothy to send. It is true that the supreme source of success in gospel work is God Himself; and sometimes He gives unexpected success to unlikely instruments. But yet, as a rule, much depends on men being adapted to their work. When God prepares fresh blessing for His Church, He commonly raises up men fitted for the service to be rendered. Therefore we do well to pray earnestly for men eminently qualified to do the Lord's work.
3. Timothy's special fitness for this mission was that
he had a heart to care for them, especially to care for
their true and highest interests. So far, he resembled
Paul himself. He had the true pastoral heart. He
had caught the lessons of Paul's own life. That was
the main thing. No doubt he had intellectual gifts,
but his dispositions gave him the right use of gifts.
The loving heart, and the watchfulness and thoughtfulness
which that inspires, do more to create pastoral
wisdom than any intellectual superiority. Timothy had
a share of the "mind" of Christ (ver. 5), and that made
him meet to be a wise inspector and adviser for the
4. What is most fitted to impress us, is the difficulty
which Paul experienced in finding a suitable messenger,
and the manner in which he describes his difficulty.
He was conscious in himself of a self-forgetting love
and care for the Churches, which was part, and a great
part, of his Christian character. He was ready (
One asks of whom this statement is made—that he
finds none likeminded—that all seek their own? Probably
not of Epaphroditus, for Epaphroditus goes at any
rate, and the question is about some one in addition,
to be, as it were, Paul's representative and commissioner.
Nor are we entitled to say that it applies to
Tychicus, Aristarchus, Marcus, and Jesus, mentioned
in
Still, the sad comment of the Apostle must apply to men of some standing and some capacity,—men of Christian profession, men who might naturally be thought of in connection with such a task. As he surveyed them, he was obliged to note the deplorable defect, which perhaps had not struck himself so forcibly until he began to weigh the men against the mission he was planning for them. Then he saw how they came short; and also, how this same blight prevailed generally among the Christians around him. Men were not "likeminded"; no man was "likeminded." All seek their own, not the things which are Jesus Christ's. Is not this a sad saying? What might one expect at the outset of a noble cause, the cause of Christ's truth and Church? What might one count upon in the circle that stood nearest to the Apostle Paul? Yet this is the account of it,—All seek their own, not the things which are Jesus Christ's.
Is it any wonder that the Apostle pleads earnestly
with Christians to cherish the mind of "not looking
each of you to his own things" (ver. 4); that he presses
the great example of the Saviour Himself; that he
celebrates elsewhere (
What does his description mean? It does not mean
that the men in question broke the ordinary Christian
rules. It does not mean that any Church could have
disciplined them for provable sins. Nay, it does not
mean that they were destitute of fear of God and love
to Christ. But yet, to the Apostle's eye, they were too
visibly swayed by the eagerness about their own things;
so swayed, that their ordinary course was governed
and determined by it. It might be love of ease, it might
be covetousness, it might be pride, it might be party
opinion, it might be family interests, it might even be
concentration on their own religious comfort:—however
it might be, to this it came in the end, All seek
their own. Some of them might be quite unsound,
deceivers or deceived; especially, for instance, if Demas
(
You mistake if you suppose this faulty state implied,
in all these cases, a deliberate, conscious preference of
their own things above the things of Jesus Christ. The
men might really discern a supreme beauty and worth
You may not cherish any avowed purpose to seek
your own; you may have learned to love Christ for
the best reasons; you may have the root of the matter
in you; you may have made some sacrifices that
express a sense of Christ's supreme claims: and yet
you may be a poor style of Christian, an inconsistent
Christian, a careless, unwatchful Christian. Especially
you may habitually fail to make a generous estimate of
the place to be given to the things of Jesus Christ.
You may not be reckoned so defective either in general
judgment or in your own esteem, because you may
come up very well to what is usually expected. And
yet you may be allowing any Christianity you have to
be largely stifled and repressed by foreign and alien
influences, by a crowd of occupations and recreations
that steal heart and life away. You may be taking no
Now if we look at it as part of the experience of
Paul the Apostle, to find this temper so prevailing
around him, we learn another lesson. We know
Paul's character, his enthusiasm, the magnanimous
faith and love with which he counted all to be loss in
comparison of Christ. And yet, we see what he found
among the Christians around him. This has been so
in every age. The unreasonableness, faintheartedness,
and faithlessness of men, the unchristlikeness of Christians,
have been matter of experience. If our hearts
were enlarged to plan and endeavour more generously
for Christ's cause, we should feel this a great trial. All
large-hearted Christians have to encounter it. Let it
be remembered that it is not peculiar to any age. The
Apostle had full experience of it. "Demas hath forsaken
me, having loved this present world.... Alexander
the coppersmith did me much evil.... At my
first answer no man stood with me, but all men forsook
me" (
Timothy is to go to Philippi, and is to bring to Paul
a full report. But, at the same time, the Apostle finds
it necessary to send Epaphroditus, not, apparently, with
a view to his returning to Rome again, but to resume
his residence at Philippi. It seems, on all accounts,
reasonable to believe that Epaphroditus belonged to
the Philippian Church, and was in office there. In
this case he is to be distinguished from Epaphras
(
"Finally, my brethren, rejoice in the Lord. To write the same things to you, to me indeed is not irksome, but for you it is safe. Beware of the dogs, beware of the evil workers, beware of the concision: for we are the circumcision, who worship by the Spirit of God, and glory in Christ Jesus, and have no confidence in the flesh: though I myself might have confidence even in the flesh: if any other man thinketh to have confidence in the flesh, I yet more: circumcised the eighth day, of the stock of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; as touching the law, a Pharisee; as touching zeal, persecuting the Church; as touching the righteousness which is in the law, found blameless. Howbeit what things were gain to me, these have I counted loss for Christ. Yea verily, and I count all things to be loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord."—Phil. iii. 1-8 (R.V.).
Yet it seems to find its place in the letter almost incidentally.
It would seem, as some have thought, that in the
first verse of this chapter the Apostle begins to draw
his letter to a close. Cheerful words of farewell begin
to shape themselves. At the same time a closing
reference is in view to some practical danger that
"Finally, my brethren, rejoice in the Lord." Rejoice,
Be of good cheer, was the common formula of
leave-taking. The same word is translated "farewell"
in
Now he seems to be on the point of introducing
some subject already referred to, either in this or in
a previous Epistle. It concerned the safety of the
Philippians, and it required some courteous preface in
touching on it once again; so that, most likely, it was
a point of some delicacy. Some have thought this topic
might be the tendency to dissension which had appeared
in Philippi. It is a subject which comes up again in ch. iv.:
it may have been upon the point of coming up here.
The closing words of ver. 1 might well enough preface
such a reference. The theme was not so pleasant as
some of those on which he had written: it might be
delicate for him to handle; and it might call for some
effort on their part to take it well. Yet it concerned
their safety they that should fully realise this element
But at this point a new impulse begins to operate.
Perhaps the Apostle was interrupted, and, before he
could resume, some news reaches him, awakening
afresh the indignation with which he always regarded
the tactics of the Judaisers. Nothing indicates that the
Philippian Church was much disposed to Judaise. But
if at this juncture some new disturbance from the
Judaisers befell his work at Rome, or if news of that
kind reached him from some other field, it might
suggest the possibility of those sinister influences
finding their way also to Philippi. This is, of course,
a conjecture merely; but it is not an unreasonable one.
It has been offered as an explanation of the somewhat
sudden burst of warning that breaks upon us in
ch. iii. 2; while, in the more tranquil strain of
ch. iv., topics are resumed which easily link themselves
to ch. iii. 1. In the text Ewald's suggestion is followed, in the form given to
it by Lightfoot. Meyer's view, however, may seem simpler to some
readers. He thinks that "the same things" of ch. iii. 1 are the
warnings against Judaising which actually follow in ver. 2. According
to Meyer, the Apostle had already, in a previous Epistle, warned
the Philippians against the Judaisers, and he considers it "safer" for
them and "not irksome" to himself to repeat the admonition. In
this view the connection between vv. 1 and 2 may be stated in this
way: "Rejoice in the Lord;" and, need I repeat it?—yes, it is better
that I should repeat it,—rejoicing in the Lord is wholly contrary to
that boasting in the flesh which characterises some great religious
pretenders well known to you and me. Beware of them! The
energetic scorn of the phrasing is explained by supposing that the
circumstances and the argument of the former Epistle had led to this
animated denunciation, so that the Apostle recapitulates phrases
that were well remembered in the Philippian congregation.
The truth is that a remiss Christianity always becomes very much a Judaism. Such Christianity assumes that a life of respectable conventions, carried on within sacred institutions, will please God and save our souls. What the Apostle has to set against Judaism may very well be set against that in all its forms.
"Keep an eye on the dogs, on the evil workers, on
the concision." The Judaisers are not to occupy him
very long, but we see they are going to be thoroughly
disposed of. Dogs is a term borrowed from their own
vocabulary. They classed the Gentiles (even the
uncircumcised Christians) as dogs, impure beings who
devoured all kinds of meat and were open to all kinds
of uncleanness. But themselves, the Apostle intimates,
were the truly impure, shutting themselves out from the
true purity, the heart's purity, and (as Dr. Lightfoot expresses
it) "devouring the garbage of carnal ordinances."
They were also evil workers, mischievous busybodies,
pertinaciously busy, but busy to undo rather than to
build up what is good, "subverting men's souls"
For any full statement of the grounds of the Apostle's
indignation at the Judaising propaganda, the reader
must be referred to the expository writings on other
Epistles, especially on those to the Corinthians and to
the Galatians. Here a few words must suffice. Judaising
made the highest pretensions to religious security
and success; it proposed to expound the only worthy
and genuine view of man's relation to God. But in
reality the Judaisers wholly misrepresented Christianity,
for they had missed the main meaning of it. Judaising
turned men's minds away from what was highest to
what was lowest,—from love to law, from God's gifts
to man's merits, from inward life and power to outward
ceremonial performance, from the spiritual and eternal
Two things may be suggested here. One is the responsibility incurred by those who make a religious profession, and in that character endeavour to exert religious influence upon others. Such men are taking possession, as far as they can, of what is highest and most sacred in the soul's capacities; and if they misdirect the soul's life here, if consciously or unconsciously they betray interests so sacred, if they successfully teach men to take false coin for true in the matter of the soul's dealings with God and with its own welfare, their responsibility is of the heaviest.
Another point to notice is the energy with which the
Apostle thinks it right to denounce these evil workers.
Denunciation is a line of things in which, as we know very
well, human passion is apt to break loose—the wrath of
man which worketh not the righteousness of God. The
history of religious controversy has made this very
The Judaisers put abroad the false coin, and believers
in Christ, whether circumcised or not, had the true.
"We are the circumcision, who worship by the Spirit
of God, and who glory in Christ Jesus, and who put
no confidence in the flesh." Such are truly Abraham's
children (
No doubt, the rite of circumcision was outward;
and no doubt it came to be connected with a great
system of outward ordinances and outward providences.
Yet circumcision, according to the Apostle, pointed not
outwards, but inwards (
The true circumcision then must be those, in the first place, who have the true, the essentially true worship. Circumcision set men apart as worshippers of the true God: hence Israel came to be thought of as a people "instantly serving (or worshipping) God day and night." That this worship must include more than outward service in order to be a success—that it should include elements of high spiritual worth, was disclosed in Old Testament revelation with growing clearness. One promise on which it rested was: "The Lord thy God will circumcise thine heart, and the heart of thy seed, to love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, that thou mayest live." The true circumcision, those who answer to the type which circumcision was meant to set, must be those who have the true worship. Now that is the worship "by the Spirit"; on which we shall have a word to say presently.
And again, the true circumcision must be those who
have the true glorying. Israel, called to glory in
their God, were set apart also to cherish in that connection
a great hope, which was to bless their line,
and, through them, the world. That hope was fulfilled
in Christ. The true circumcision were those who
And certainly, therefore, as men who had discovered the true foundation and refuge, they must renounce and turn from the false trust, they must put no confidence in the flesh. Is this, however, a paradox? Was not circumcision "outward, in the flesh"? Was it not found to be a congruous part of a concrete system, built up of "elements of this world"? Was not the temple a "worldly sanctuary," and were not the sacrifices "carnal ordinances"? Yes; and yet the true circumcision did not trust in circumcision. He who truly took the meaning of that remarkable dispensation was trained to say, "Doth not my soul wait on God? from Him cometh my salvation." And he was trained to renounce the confidences in which the nations trusted. Hence, though such a man could accept instruction and impression from many an ordinance and many a providence, he was still led to place his trust higher than the flesh. And now, when the true light was come, when the Kingdom of God shone out in its spiritual principles and forces, the true circumcision must be found in those who turned from that which appealed only to the earthly and the fleshly mind, that they might fasten on that in which God revealed Himself to contrite and longing souls.
The Apostle therefore claimed the inheritance and
"We," he says, "worship by the Spirit of God." The
Holy Spirit was not absent from the old economy.
But in those days the consciousness and the faith of
His working were dim, and the understanding of the
scope of it was limited. In the times of the New
Testament, on the contrary, the promise and the
presence of the Spirit assume a primary place. This
is the great promise of the Father which was to come
into manifestation and fulfilment when Christ had
gone away. This, from Pentecost onwards, was to be
distinctive of the character of Christ's Church. According
to the Apostle Paul, it is one great end of Christ's
redemption, that we may receive the promise of the
Spirit through faith. So, in particular, Christian worship
is by the Spirit of God. Therefore it is a real and
most inward fellowship with God. In this worship it
is the office of the Holy Spirit to give us a sense of the
reality of Divine things, especially of the truths and
promises of God; to touch our hearts with their goodness,
on account especially of the Divine love that
breathes in them; to dispose us to decision, in the
way of consent and surrender to God as thus revealed.
He takes the things of Christ, and shows them to us.
It is true that the presence of the Spirit of God is not
discernible otherwise than by the fruits of His working.
And the difficulty may be raised, how can we, in practice,
be secure of having the Spirit, thereby to worship
God? But, on the one hand, we know in some
degree what the nature of the worship is which He
sustains; we can form some conception of the attitude
and exercise of soul towards Christ and God
which constitutes that worship. We do therefore
know something as to what we should seek; we are
aware of the direction in which our face should be
set. On the other hand, the presence of the Spirit
with us, to make such worship real in our case, is an
All appliances which are supposed to aid worship, which are conceived to add to its beauty, pathos, or sublimity, are tolerable only so far as they do not tend to divert us from the worship which is by the Spirit. Experience shows that men are extremely prone to fall back from the simplicity and intentness of spiritual worship; and then they cover the gap, which they cannot fill, by outward arrangements of an impressive and affecting kind. Outward arrangements can render real service to worshippers, only if they remove hindrances, and supply conditions under which the simplicity and intentness of the worship "by the Spirit" may go on undisturbed. Very often they have tended exactly in the contrary direction; not the less because they have been introduced, perhaps, with the best intentions. And yet the chief question of all is not the more or less, the this or that, of such circumstantials; but rather what the heart fixes on and holds by.
Again, we "glory in Christ Jesus." Christians are
rich and great, because Christ Jesus assumes a place in
their mind and life, such as makes them partakers of
all spiritual blessing in Him. They glory, not in what
they are, or do, or become, or get, but in Christ.
Glorying in anything implies a deep sense of its
And so, then, we "put no confidence in the flesh." If
in Christ, under the revelation which centres in Him,
we have found the way to God and the liberty to serve
God, then all other ways must be for us ipso facto
exposed and condemned; they are seen to be fallacious
and fruitless. All these other ways are summed up in
"the flesh." For the flesh is human nature fallen, with
the resources which it wields, drawn from itself or from
earthly materials of some kind. And in some selection
or combination of these resources, the religion of the
flesh stands. The renunciation of trust in such ways
of establishing a case before God is included in the
acceptance of Christ's authority and Christ's salvation.
This condemns alike the confidence in average morality,
and that in accredited ecclesiastical surroundings. It
condemns confidence in even the holiest Christian rites,
as if they could transfer us, by some intrinsic virtue,
into the Kingdom of God, or could accredit our standing
there. The same holds of confidence in doctrines,
and even of confidence in sentiments. Rites, doctrines,
and sentiments have their place of honour, as lines in
At this point the Apostle cannot but emphasise his own right to speak. He appeals to his remarkable history. He knows all about this Judaic religion, which glories in the flesh, and he knows also the better way. The experience which had transformed his life entitled him to a hearing; for, indeed, he, as no man else, had searched out the worth of both the ways of it. So he is led into a remarkable testimony regarding the nature and the working forces of true Christian religion. And this, while it serves the purpose of throwing deserved disgrace on the poor religion of Judaising, serves at the same time a higher and more durable purpose. It sets the glory of the life of faith, love, and worship, against the meanness of all fleshly life whatever; and thus it vividly impresses on all hearers and readers the alternatives with which we have to deal, and the greatness of the choice which we are called to make.
If Paul decries the Jewish glorying in the flesh, it is
not because he lacked ground, that had enabled him to
"But what things were gain to me"—the whole class
of things that ranked themselves before my eyes, and
in my heart, as making me rich and strong—"those
I have esteemed" (in a mass) "to be loss for Christ."
They ceased to be valuable, they began to be reckoned
as elements of disadvantage and of loss, in comparison
of Christ. Nor these things only, but even all things—"Yea
doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the
excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord."
"All things" must include more than those old elements
of fleshly confidence already enumerated. It must
include everything which Paul still possessed, or might
yet attain, that could be separated from Christ, weighed
against Him, brought into competition with Him—all
that the flesh could even yet take hold of, and turn into
a ground of separate confidence and boasting. So the
phrase might cover much that was good in its place,
much that the Apostle was glad to hold in Christ and
from Christ, but which yet might present itself to the
unwatchful heart as material of independent boasting,
and which, in that case, must be met with energetic and
resolute rejection. "All things" may include, for
instance, many of those elements of Christian and
Apostolic eminence which are enumerated in
The difficulty for us here is to estimate worthily the elevation of that regard to Christ which had become the inspiration of the life of Paul.
At the time when he was arrested on the road to
Damascus, God revealed His Son to him and in him.
Paul then became aware of Jesus as the Messiah of his
people, against whom his utmost energies had bent
themselves—against whom he had sinned with his
utmost determination. That discovery came home to
him with a sense of great darkness and horror; and,
no doubt, at the same time, his whole previous conceptions
of life, and his judgments of his own life, were
subverted, and fell in ruins around him. He had had
his scheme of life, of success, of welfare: it had seemed
to him a lofty and well-accredited one; and, with whatever
misgivings he might occasionally be visited, on the
whole he thought of himself as working it out hopefully
and well. Now on every side were written only defeat,
perplexity, and despair. But ere long the Son of God
was revealed in his heart (
This had become the living and ruling principle with Paul; not so, indeed, as to meet with no opposition, but so as to prevail and bear down opposition. Enthusiastically accepted and embraced, it was a principle that had to be maintained against temptation, against infirmity, against the strong tides of inward habit and outward custom. Here lay the trial of Paul's sincerity and of Christ's fidelity and power.
That trial had run its course: it was now not far
from its ending. The opening of heart and mind to
Christ, and the surrender of all to Him, had not been
the matter merely of one hour of deep impression and
high feeling. It had continued, it was in full force still.
Paul's value for Christ had borne the strain of time, and
change, and temptation. Now he is Paul the aged,
and also a prisoner of Christ Jesus. Has he abated
from the force or cooled from the confidence of that
mind of his concerning the Son of God? Far otherwise.
With a "Yea doubtless" he tells us that he
abides by his first conviction, and affirms his first
decision. Good right he had to testify. This was not
a matter of inward feeling only, however sincere and
strong. He had been well proved. He has suffered
This passage sets before us the essential nature of Christianity—the essential life of a Christian, as revealed by the effect it has on his esteem for other things. Many of us, one supposes, cannot consider it without a sense of deep disgrace. The view here given awakens many thoughts. Some aspects of the subject must be dwelt upon for a moment.
Those things that were gain, all things that can be gain, such are the objects Paul here reckons with. The believing mind concerning Christ carries with it a changed mind as regards all these.
Apparently, in some deep sense, there arises for us
in this world an inevitable competition between Christ
on the one hand and all things on the other. If we
should say some things, we might be in danger of
sliding into a one-sided puritanism. But we escape
that risk by saying, emphatically, all things. A decision
upon this has to be reached, it has to be maintained,
it is to be reaffirmed in particulars, in all particulars.
For we must remember that the heart of Paul, in this
burst of loyalty, is only echoing the call of Christ:
"He that loveth father or mother more than Me, is
not worthy of Me." Let us repeat it, this applies to
ALL things. Because a certain way of feeling and thinking
about these things, and especially about some of
That life should be subjected to this severe competition
seems hard: we may repine at it, and count it
needless. We may ask, "Why should it be so? Why
might not Christ take His place in our regard—His first,
His ideal, His incomparable place—and, at the same
time, all the other things take their place too, each in
due order, as the true conception of human life may
imply, and as the claims of loyalty to Christ may
dictate? Why should not each take its place, more
prominent or more subordinate, on a principle of harmony
and happy order? Why should life be subjected
to conflict and strain?" We may dream of this; but it
will not be. We are such persons, and the world about
us is so related to us now, that the "all things" are found
continually claiming a place, and striving to make good
for themselves a place in our heart and life, that will
not consist with the regard due to Christ. They can
be resisted only by a great inward decision, maintained
and renewed all along our life, for Christ and against
them. The nearest approach the believer makes in
this life to that happy harmony of the whole being
which was spoken of just now, is when his decision for
Christ is so thorough and joyful, that the other elements—the
"all things"—fall into their place, reduced
But then, in the next place, though the decision cannot be escaped, yet, let us be assured, there is in this no real hardship. To be so called to this decision is the greatest blessedness of life. There is that in Christ for men, on account of which a man may gladly count all else but loss, may count it abundantly well worth his while to make this choice. Christ as binding us to God, Christ as the living source of reconciliation and sonship, Christ as the spring of a continually recruited power to love and serve and overcome, Christ as assuring to us the attainment of His own likeness, Christ as the Revealer of a love which is more and better than all its own best gifts—Christ discloses to us a world of good, for the sake of which it is well done to cast, if need be, all else away. It proves reasonable to reject the importunate claim which other things make to be reckoned indispensable. It proves natural, according to a new nature, to hold all else loosely, that we may hold this one interest fast.
Yet this is not to be done or endeavoured by dismissing
out of life all that gives character and movement
to human existence. Not so: for indeed it is
human life itself, with its complex of relations and
activities, that is to receive the new inspiration. The
decision is to be made by accepting the principle that
Let this, however, be noted, that loyalty requires
something more than merely a new valuation of things
in our minds, however sincere that valuation might be.
It demands also actual sacrifice, when duty or when
faithful service calls for it. Paul's Christianity was
prompt to lay down, as circumstances in the course
of following Christ might demand, everything, anything,
even that which, in other circumstances, might
retain its place in life, and be counted, in its own
place, seemly and welcome. Not only shall a man
count all to be loss for Christ: he shall actually, when
called upon, suffer the loss of anything or of all
It is because the "all things," in their infinite variety of aspect and influence, tend so constantly to come into competition with Christ, to our great hurt and danger, that they must be so emphatically repudiated, and counted to be "loss." They are loss indeed, when they succeed in taking the place they claim, for then they impoverish our life of its true treasure. We may suffer this encroachment to take place stealthily—all but unconsciously. All the more fit it is that we should learn to assert loyalty to our Lord with a magnanimous vigilance. It becomes us to set His worth and claims emphatically, with a "yea doubtless," against the poor substitutes for which we are tempted silently to exchange Him. If not, we are likely to come back to that sad stage which has been already brought before us (ch. ii.), the condition of those Christians who "all seek their own, not the things which are Jesus Christ's."
Let us own, however, that men are trained in different
lines of discipline to the same great result. The
"Yea verily, and I count all things to be loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord: for whom I suffered the loss of all things, and do count them but dung, that I may gain Christ, and be found in Him, not having a righteousness of mine own, even that which is of the law, but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteousness which is of [from] God by [upon] faith: that I may know Him, and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, becoming conformed unto His death; if by any means I may attain unto the resurrection from the dead."—Phil. iii. 8-11 (R.V.).
Remains, iv., p. 156.
It can hardly be doubted that there is something in
What application these views may have to divergences
of our own day it would take too long to consider. Mr.
Knox's remark has been referred to here in order to throw
light on the mental attitude of Paul. Paul will hardly
be accused of losing sight of the ultimate truths; but
certainly he delights to view them through the mediatory
truths; and he strives to reach the ultimate victory,
through the most realising application to his heart and
life of what those mediatory truths embody and disclose.
Through the mediatory truths the ultimate ones reveal
We, meanwhile, shall do well to imitate the charity of Mr. Knox, who cordially owned the Christian piety of those who might go too far either way. Few of us, indeed, can dispense with the charity that is tender to partial and imperfect views. But if we are to understand Paul, we must find our way into some sympathy with him here; not only as he is seen on this line to have attained so far in saintship, but as he is seen to be sure that this way lay much more—that on this line his road lay to the glory that should be revealed. He could contemplate the practice and growth of piety in many lights; yet it came home to him most evidently as growth in the knowledge and in the appropriation of Jesus Christ.
He has cast away for the sake of Christ the treasures
so much valued by the Jews, and many a treasure
more. But what he would chiefly impress on the
minds of those to whom he writes is not so much the
amount of what he has cast away, but rather the worth of
that which he has found, and more and more is finding.
The mass of things set down for loss is a mere stepping-stone
to this central theme. But though he tells us what
he thought and felt about it, most of us learn but slowly
how much it meant for him. When we sit down beside
the Apostle to learn his lesson, we become conscious
"For the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus."
Christ had come into the life of Paul as a wonderful
knowledge. Becoming thus known to him, He had transformed
the world in which Paul lived, and had made him
Hence, while in ver. 8 the Apostle speaks of himself
as encountering all earthly loss that he may know
Christ, in ver. 9 it is that he may gain Christ and may
Christ, in fact, comes to us with commandments,
"words" (
Both as to knowledge and as to experience the type
was fixed from the first: there could be no doubt about
either. But both were to deepen and widen as life
went on. Christ was apprehended at first as a wonderful
Whole of good; but so that indefinite fields of
progress were continually to open up. In the very
Before passing to details, something more should perhaps be said of this magnificent generality, "the knowledge of Christ."
Christ is first of all known historically; so He is
presented to us in the Gospels. His story is part of
This vision, which the Gospels set before us, was
also before the mind of Paul. And words of our Lord,
delivered in His earthly ministry, and preserved by
those who heard Him, were treasured by the Apostle
of the Gentiles, and reproduced to guide the Churches
A special insight into all this was included in the wisdom given to Paul. And yet this view of things does not turn out to be something diverse or alien from what the Gospels set before us. Rather it is the gospel story revealing its native significance and virtue along many lines which were not so distinct before.
But now all this, in turn, leads us to the third aspect
of the case. What Christ is and what He does may
be described; but there is a knowledge of it which is
imparted practically, in the progressive history of the
believer. According to the Christian teaching, we
enter, as Christians, on a new relation; and in that
relation a certain blessed well-being is appointed to
us. This well-being is itself an unfolding or disclosure
of Christ. Now this well-being comes home to us
and is verified in the course of a progressive human
experience. Life must become our school to teach us
what it all means. Life sets us at the point of view
now for one lesson, now for another. Life moves and
changes, and brings its experiences; its problems, its
conflicts, its anxieties, its fears, its temptations; its
need of pity, pardon, strengthening; its experience of
weakness, defeat, and disgrace; its opportunities of
service, self-denial, fidelity, victory. For all these
This also was Paul's condition, though he was an inspired man. He too was fain to improve his knowledge in this school. And when we take all three aspects together, we shall see how truly, for Paul and for us, the knowledge of Christ is, on the one hand, so excellent from the first, that it justifies the great decision to which it calls us; and, on the other hand, how it creates a longing for further insight and fresh attainment. The latter we see in the Apostle as plainly as the former. From the first, he knew in whom he believed, and was persuaded that for His sake all else was to be resigned. Yet to the end he felt the unsatisfied desire to know more, to gain more; and his heart, if we may apply here the Psalmist's words, was breaking for this longing which it had.
It was remarked above that the "excellency of the
knowledge of Christ" in ver. 8 corresponds in the
Apostle's thought to the "gaining" of Christ and being
"found in Him" of ver. 9; and this may be the best place
to say a word on these two phrases. To gain Christ,
Now the Apostle goes more into detail. He tells us what were for him the main articles of this good state of being "found in Christ." He indicates, with a certain eager gratitude, the main lines along which the benefits of that state had come into experience, and along which he was pressing on to know the fulness of Christ. First, in Christ he has and shall have not his own righteousness, which is that of the law, but that which is through the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith. Then, secondly, he has in hand a practical knowledge of Christ, culminating in the complete deliverance of the resurrection. It includes two aspects or elements; Christ known in the power of His resurrection, and Christ known in the fellowship of His sufferings.
The first thing then which rises distinctly into view
The law here in view was the whole revealed will
of God touching man's behaviour, coming as a will of
authority, requiring obedience. The discussion in the
earlier chapters of the Epistle to the Romans makes this
plain. And Paul's way of keeping the law, in those old
days, though it was necessarily too external, had not
been so merely external as is sometimes supposed. His
obedience had been zealous and resolute, with as much
heart and meaning as he could put into it. But law-keeping
for righteousness had been the principle of it.
The Jew was placed under a law; obedience to that law
should be his pathway to a destiny of incomparable
privilege and gladness. That was the theory. So
believing, Paul had given himself with zeal to the work,
"living in all good conscience before God." A great
change had now befallen him; but that could not
imply on his part a renunciation of God's law. The
law, better understood indeed, and far more inwardly
Here, however, we must ask what the Apostle means when he speaks of the righteousness which is by the faith of Jesus Christ, the righteousness which is of God unto or upon faith. Great disputes have arisen over this question. We must endeavour to find the Apostle's main meaning, without involving ourselves too much in the mazes of technical debate.
"Not having a righteousness of mine own, even that which is of the law, but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteousness which is of [from] God by [upon] faith."—Phil. iii. 9 (R.V.).
The statement which follows in the next six paragraphs is
partly based on Pfleiderer, Paulinismus, p. 172 fol. He will perhaps
be regarded as a tolerably impartial reporter on this point.
In the latter part of
It appears, then, that the righteousness which is from God, unto or upon faith, expresses a relation between God and believers that is the proper basis for fellowship with God, confiding on their part, communicative of the best blessings on His. It is analogous to the relation conceived to arise when a perfectly righteous man is approved and set apart to weal; and like that it stands in contrast with the relation due to sin as it incurs wrath. It follows that this righteousness, if it exists or becomes available for those who have sinned, includes the forgiveness of sins. But it includes more than forgiveness, in so far as it is not merely negative. It is the concession to us of a standing which is a positive basis for experiences, pointing towards eternal life, and rising into it.
This relation to Himself God has founded for us
sinful men in Christ, and specially in His atonement.
It is part of what is divinely held out to us, as life or
well-being in Christ. When we do awaken to it, our
whole religious attitude towards God takes character
from it, and is to be ordered accordingly. This way of
being related to God is called God's righteousness, or
righteousness "from God," because it is not set up by
Whatever opinion we may choose to entertain of this scheme, it ought not to be disputed that this, in general, is Paul's conception of the matter.
However, let us emphatically note that it is as "in
Christ," "found in Him," the Apostle possesses this
form of well-being. If there be such a thing as a real
union between the Saviour and Paul, then in the
Saviour and with the Saviour Paul is thus righteous.
The faith to which this righteousness arises is faith
that unites to Christ, and not any other kind of faith.
And so, if it be possible for Paul to fall from Christ,
then also he must fall from the righteousness of faith.
It is of weight with Paul that this righteousness of
faith, arising for him who is "found" in Christ, is
founded for us in the atonement. That is to say, the
new relation is not represented as a relation created for
us by a mere Divine fiat that it shall be so. It is
represented as arising for sinful men out of the redemption
of Christ; which redemption is represented
as in its own nature fitted to fructify into this result,
as well as into other fruits which are due to it.
Christ's atonement is the way which grace has taken
to bring in the righteousness of faith. In particular,
we are made righteous (in this sense) through Christ,
in a manner corresponding to that in which He was
made sin for us (
Clearly the Apostle thinks of this righteousness of faith as something very wonderful. It is for him fundamental. It is the first article in which he celebrates the worth of the knowledge of Christ; no doubt, because he felt it transforming his whole moral and spiritual experience; and, in particular, because it contrasted so vividly with the nugatory righteousness of earlier days.
In earlier days Paul sought righteousness—an approved
and accepted standing with God—by the works
of the law. That project failed when the great discovery
on the road to Damascus showed him to himself
as all astray; in particular, when the law itself, coming
home to him in the fulness of its meaning, both revealed
to him the beggarliness of his own performance,
and, at the same time, stung into appalling activity
ungodly elements within him. Then he saw before
him the law rising from its deep foundations in eternal
strength and majesty, imperative, unalterable, inexorable;
and over against it his own works lay withered
and unclean. But another vision came. He saw
the Son of God in His life, death, and resurrection.
Mere love and pity were the inspiration of His coming:
obedience and sacrifice were the form of it. So in that
great vision one element or aspect that rose into view
was righteousness,—righteousness grounded as deep
as the law itself, as magnificent in its great proportions,
Righteousness of faith, as the Apostle conceives it,
is to be distinguished from personal righteousness, or
goodness, as an attribute of human character, but yet
is most closely connected with it. Righteousness of
faith opened what seemed to Paul the prosperous way
into righteousness of daily living. In the very hour
when he first believed for righteousness, he felt himself
entering a kingdom of light, and love, and power, in
which all things were possible; and ever after the same
order of experience verified itself for him afresh. The
righteousness of faith being the relation in which,
If Paul had succeeded in the enterprise of his earlier
days, when he sought righteousness by the law, he
would, as he hoped, have found acceptance in the end;
and various blessings would have followed. He would
have emerged from his task a man stamped as righteous,
and fit to be treated accordingly. That would
have been the end. But now, in reference to his present
enterprise, he has found, being in Christ, acceptance at
the beginning. So often as faith lifts him into the
We need not conceal from ourselves, however, that many find the doctrine thus ascribed to Paul unacceptable. If they do not count it positively misleading, as some do, they yet regard it as unprofitable theory.
Apart from objections drawn from theology or
morals or texts, they argue, for example, that it is all
in the air, away from real experience. Christian
religion is a practical matter,—a question of improved
dispositions, improved habits, and improved prospects.
If, through Christ, such things as these arise for us,
if, through Him, influences reach us that tend to such
results, then those are the practical specimens which
interpret to us a Saviour's kindness. To know Christ
in these must be the true knowledge of Him. To
carry us away beforehand into the region of a supposed
relation to God is a precarious, and may be a delusive
business; it is, at any rate, a dogmatic nicety rather
than a vital element in religion. If we are to experience
But it must be said, in reply, that to speak of this
righteousness of faith as unpractical, is a strange mistake.
All religion aims at fellowship with God; and
in Christian religion that fellowship becomes real and
authentic in Christ. Through all exercises and attainments
of Christian religion that are genuine, this thread
goes. We have access to God, and we abide in the
Father and the Son. How imperfectly this takes place
on our part need not be said. The imperfection on our
part is, indeed, only exceeded by the condescension
on His. Yet our faith is that this is real, otherwise
Christianity would not be for us the opening of an
eternal blessedness. How can it be judged unpractical,
if God reveals to men, first, that in the room of those
confused and melancholy relations to God which arise
for us out of our own past history, He has constituted
for us a relation, apprehensible by faith, in which we
find ourselves pardoned, accepted, commended to God
to be made partakers of life eternal; and, secondly,
that this is grounded in the service and sacrifice of His
Son, sent forth to save us; so that we enter this
relation and hold it, not independently, but in fellowship
with the Son of God, His sonship becoming the
model of ours? Is this unpractical? Is it unpractical
to be conscious of such a relation between God and
Perhaps the state of the case will more clearly appear if we fix attention on one Christian benefit. Let us take the forgiveness of sins.
Forgiveness of sins is the primary grace, and it sets
the type of the grace to which we owe all benefits.
Forgiveness, as it were, leads in all other blessings
by the hand; or, each blessing as it advances into a
Christian life comes with a fresh gift of forgiveness in
the heart of it. If this is so, then the tendency, which
is observable in various quarters, to pass forgiveness
by, as a matter of course, and to hurry on to what
are reckoned more substantial, or more experimental
benefits, must be attended with loss. It must, so
But then, in the next place, the forgiveness of sins
itself is referred to the mediation of Christ, and the
work accomplished in that mediation, as its known
basis. Forgiveness of sins was to arise out of an
order of grace, embodied in history—namely, in the
history of the Incarnate Son of God; and we are not
entitled to take for granted it could fitly arise otherwise.
Apparently Christ Himself came into the inheritance
which He holds for us, by an order of things which it
was imperative on Him to regard, and by a history
which He must fulfil. And we, believing in Him, find,
in consequence, a new place and standing; we receive
a "gift of righteousness" which contains the forgiveness
of sins; we obtain, through Christ, a mode of
access to God, of which forgiveness is a feature. So
the place of forgiveness in the Divine administration
is vindicated and safe-guarded; and while forgiveness
comes to us as a gift of the Father's compassionate
heart, it is found to be true also that "Christ washed
us from our sins in His own blood." "God sent His
Son, made of a woman, made under the law, to redeem
them that were under the law." "God hath sent Him
forth for a propitiation, through faith in His blood, to
declare His righteousness for the remission of sins that
are past, ... that He might be just, and the Justifier
But if forgiveness, which is itself a meeting with God in peace, refers itself to the mediation of Christ as preparing for us a blessed relation to God—a righteousness of faith—how should our whole fellowship with God, in grace, fail to presuppose the same foundation?
But argument upon this topic might lead us far. Let us close the chapter in another vein.
All religion, worth recognising in that character,
implies earnestness, serious aspiration and endeavour.
It supposes human life to place itself under the influence
of an order of motives that is to be comprehensive
and commanding. And this is true also of Christian
religion. But Christian religion, as we know, does
not begin with a consciousness of ability to achieve
success; it is not grounded in an expectation that by
strenuous or apt effort of ours, we may achieve the
aims and secure the benefits at which religion points.
That is not the root of Christian religion. It begins
with a consciousness and confession of weakness: the
soul owns its incompetency to deal with the great
interests that reveal themselves in the light of Christ;
it is without strength for tasks like these. And so the
Now just so Christian religion does not begin with a consciousness of deserving something, or an idea that by taking pains we may deserve something, may single ourselves out for at least some modest share of favourable recognition. Rather it often begins with the fading away of such ideas when they were present before. Christian religion roots itself in the confession of sin, and therefore of ill-desert; it signalises itself by a deepening sense of the seriousness of the situation in this respect. With this it comes face to face before God. "I will confess my transgressions unto the Lord." "God be merciful to me a sinner." We have nothing that is not sinful to bring before Him; so, at length, we come with that. It is all we have. Our prayer rises not merely out of the sense of weakness, but out of the consciousness of demerit.
But in Christian religion we are aware, as of strength
which can remedy our weakness, so of forgiveness
which can put away our sins. "There is forgiveness
with Thee." "Through this Man is preached to us the
forgiveness of sins." It is clear also that this forgiveness
comes, wherever it comes, as full and free forgiveness,
"forgiving you all trespasses." So that in
Christian religion we listen at Christ's feet to the
testimony directed to all penitent believers, that instead
Forgiveness, too, as we already foresee, is but the foundation and beginning of a history in which we are called to go forward. This history may have sad passages in it; but in going forward in it in faith we are assured that on God's part it is a history of most painstaking and most sublime benefaction: all of it ordered so as to be of a piece with His sending of His Son; all of it instinct with the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. Faith looking to Christ believes this, and receives it. And to faith upheld by Him on whom we trust all this is more and more made good, and comes true. It is a history of progress in true goodness. And the end is life everlasting.
Now the words before us suggest, upon the one
hand, very strongly, the simply gratuitous character of
the Christian benefits, and the sense of undeserved
At the same time, the same words of the Apostle
suggest very strongly the Divine stability of the good
which meets us in Christ. A very strong foundation
has been laid for those who flee for refuge to lay hold
of the hope set before them in the gospel. To our
sense, indeed, things may seem to be most mutable.
But when faith reaches to the things not seen, it learns
another lesson. In Christ believers are graced with
entrance into an order of salvation divinely strong and
durable. When God gave us Christ, He gave us, in a
sense, "all things," and indeed all things ordering
themselves into an eternal expression of fatherly love
and care. In Christ comes into view not goodness
only, but goodness allying itself for us with Wisdom
and Power and Right. It makes its way by incarnation
and atonement and resurrection to a kingdom which,
being first Christ's, appointed to Him, is also His
The Apostle's course of thought has not led us to raise any question about the nature and the virtue of the faith which apprehends and receives the righteousness of God. It is a subject on which much has been said. What seems needful here may be soon spoken.
The only way of entering on new relations with God,
or ourselves becoming new men, is the way of faith.
This Christian way is the only way. Every other is
simply impossible. Let any man seriously try it, and
he will find it so. But the question, What kind of
faith? is best answered by saying, Such faith as is
called for by the object of faith set before us, when that
is honestly and intently regarded. As the gospel is,
the faith must be; for the gospel is the instrument
by which faith is evoked, sustained, and guided. The
great object of faith is God, graciously revealing Himself
through Christ. Every genuine aspect of this revelation
takes its significance from its disclosure of God.
The faith, so called, which misses this, is wrong faith;
the faith which marks and welcomes this is right faith.
So, to confine ourselves to the aspect of things which occupies this chapter, the faith which meets God in the forgiveness of sins through Christ, and genuinely accepts from Him the wonderful position of holding fellowship with God forgiving, is already, virtually, repentance as well as faith. The man who so meets with God, is therein agreed with God about his own sin: he feels God to be in the right and himself to be wholly in the wrong; he feels, in particular, God to be most sublimely and conclusively in the right in the holy pity of His forgiveness. The man who does not feel this, is not accepting forgiveness. He may be posturing as if he were, but he is not doing it.
There is just one difficulty in faith—the difficulty of being real. But when it is real, it makes all things new.
"That I may know Him, and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, becoming conformed unto His death; if by any means I may attain unto the resurrection from the dead."—Phil. iii. 10, 11.
To prize the righteousness of faith was an element in the true knowledge of Christ; but it was so far from exhausting that knowledge, that it only opened a door of progress, and brought near the most stirring possibilities. For, indeed, to be found in Christ having that righteousness meant that God in Christ was his, and had begun to communicate Himself in eternal life. Now this must still reveal itself in further and fuller knowledge of Christ. According to the Apostle's conception, that which Christ means to be to us, that which we may attain to be by Christ, opens progressively to the soul that has been won to this pursuit; it comes into view and into experience in a certain growing knowledge. It is a practical historical career; and the Apostle was set on achieving it, not by strength or wisdom of his own, but by the continual communication of grace, responding to desire and prayer and endeavour.
This familiar life, then, is the scene; it alone can
furnish the opportunities. And yet what the Apostle
apprehends, as coming into possession and experience,
is a life of a higher style, a life set on a nobler key: it
is a life that has its centre and source and true type
This is indicated in the Apostle's aspiration after knowing Christ in the power of His resurrection, and his yearning if by any means he might attain to the resurrection of the dead.
The resurrection of Christ marked the acceptance of
His work by the Father, and revealed the triumph in
which that work ended. Death and all the power of
the enemy were overcome, and victory was attained.
For one thing, the resurrection of Christ made sure the
righteousness of faith. He rose again for our justification.
So every passage of the Apostle's life which proved
that his confidence in that respect was not vain, that
God in Christ was truly his God, was an experience of
the power of Christ's resurrection. But the resurrection
of Christ was also His emergence—His due emergence—into
the power and blessedness of victorious life. In
When, then, Paul says that he would know Christ
in the power of His resurrection, he aims at a life
(already his, but capable of far more adequate development)
conformed to the life which triumphed in the
risen Christ, one with that in principle, in character,
and in destiny. This was, in the meantime, to be
human life on the earth, with the known elements
and conditions of that life; including, in Paul's case,
some that were hard enough. But it was to be transformed
from within, inspired with a new meaning and
aim. It was to have its elements polarised anew,
organised by new forces and in a new rhythm. It was,
and was to be, pervaded by peace with God, by the
consciousness of redemption, by dedication to service.
It was to include a recoil from evil, and a sympathy
with goodness,—elements these which might be so far
thought of as a reverting to the unfallen state. But it
had more in it, because it was based on redemption,
So while the life we know so well was the sphere in which this experience fulfilled itself, the longings it included pointed to an existence higher up and further on—to an existence only to be reached by resurrection from the dead, an existence certainly promised to be so reached. All the effort and the longing pointed to that door of hope; Paul was reaching on to the resurrection of the dead. For that blessed resurrection would consummate and fulfil the likeness to Christ and the fellowship with Him, and would usher into a manner of being where the experience of both should be unimpeded. The life of "knowing Christ" could not be contented here, could not rest satisfied short of that consummation. For indeed to be with Christ and to labour for Christ here on earth was good; yet so that to depart and be with Christ was far better.
We have here to do with the active and victorious aspect of Christian life, the energy in it that makes it new and great. It holds by a title and it draws from a source which must be looked for, both of them, high up in heaven. Something in it has already triumphed over death.
It may be felt, however, that there is some danger
here lest the great words of Paul may carry us off our
The life in view is first of all goodness in its ordinary
sense, or what we call common morality—common
honesty, common truthfulness, common kindness. "Let
him that stole steal no more, but rather let him labour";
"Not slothful in business"; "Lie not one to another,
seeing ye have put off the old man with his deeds."
But then this common morality begins to have an uncommon
heart or spirit in it, by reason of Christ. So
a new love for goodness and a new energy of rejection
of evil begin to work; also, a new sensitiveness to
discern good, where its obligation was not felt before,
and to be aware of evil which, before, was tolerated.
Moreover, in the heart of this "common morality" the
man carries about a consciousness of his own relation
to God, and also of the relation to God of all with whom
he meets. This consciousness is very imperfect, sometimes
perhaps almost vanishes. Yet the man is aware
that an immense truth is here close to him, and he has
begun to be alive to it. This consciousness tends to
give a new value to all the "moralities": it awakens a
Returning to the instance of the Apostle Paul, one
Let it be observed, also, how the Apostle strove to "attain" the resurrection of the dead. The great things of the Kingdom of God are exhibited in various connections, none of which are to be overlooked. One of these connections is here exhibited.
We know that in Scripture a distinction is made
between the resurrection of the righteous and the
resurrection of the wicked. A solemn obscurity rests
on the manner and the principles of the latter, the
resurrection to shame. But the resurrection of the
just takes place in virtue of their union to Christ; it is
after the example of His resurrection; it is to glory and
honour. Now this resurrection, while it is most obviously
a crowning blessing and benefaction coming
The resurrection is promised to believers. It is
promised to arise to them in sequel to a certain course—a
history of redemption, made good in their lives. How
shall the disciple verify his expectation of this final
benefit? Not surely without verifying the intermediate
history. The way must point towards the end—at
least, must point towards it. A resurrection state, if
it be like Christ's, how much must it include! What
purity, what high aptitudes, what delicate congenialities!
The desires of the true Christian life, its aspirations and
efforts, as well as the promises which animate and the
influences which sustain it, all point in this direction.
But how if in any case this prove unreal, deceptive; how
if it be ostensible only? How if no real changes take
place, or if they die out again? What if soul and body
rise unchanged, the soul polluted, and so the very body
This, then, is one view in which the Apostle realises
the solemnity and interest of Christian life. It is the
way that leads up to such a resurrection. The resurrection
rises before him as the consummate triumph of that
life for which he came to Christ, the life which he longs
perfectly to possess, perfectly to know. The success
of his great venture is to meet Him in the rising from
the dead; his course, meanwhile, is a striving onwards
to it. How was it to be reached? In order to that,
much must still be brought into experience of the
resurrection power of Christ. Only in that strength
did Paul look to be carried to the point at which, ending
his course, he should lie down (if he died before Christ
come) in the blessed hope of the rising from the dead.
Paul, then, was eager to go forward in a life intense and mighty, drawing on a great power to sustain it, and rising into splendid effects and results. But yet, in respect of some of its aspects, it rather seemed to the Apostle to be a certain deliberate and blessed dying. At least, the life must fulfil and realise itself along such a dying; and this also, this emphatically, he pressed on to know—"the fellowship of His sufferings, being made conformable to His death."
Our Lord's life on earth, strong and beautiful though
it was, was really at the same time His procedure towards
death. He lived as one laying down His life,
not merely in one great sacrifice at the close, but from
step to step along His whole earthly history. With no
touch of the morbid or the fanatical, yet His course, in
practice, had to be one of self-impoverishment, of loneliness,
of acquaintance with energetic hostility of sin
and sinners. It had to be so if it was to be faithful.
He knew not where to lay His head; He endured the
contradiction of sinners against Himself; He came unto
It is difficult to speak of this without, on the one
hand, conveying a strained and unreal view of the
Christian's attitude towards the present life, or, on the
other hand, weakening too much the sense of "conformity
to His death." In the first place, the Christian's
dying is mainly, and certainly it is first of all, a
dying to sin, a mortifying the flesh with the affections
and lusts. It is the practical renunciation of
evil, along with the maintenance of the watchfulness
and self-discipline needed in order to be ready to renounce
evil when it comes. Evil has to be rejected,
not merely by itself, but at the cost of those earthly
interests which are involved in the surrender to it,
however dear or constraining those interests may
seem to be; so that conformity to Christ's death, if
it covered no more, would still cover a great deal of
ground. But it seems to cover something more—namely,
a general loosening of the grasp upon this life,
or on the temporary and sensible elements of it, in
view of the worth and certainty of the higher and the
better life. This life, indeed, as long as we are in it,
can never lose its claims upon us, as the sphere of our
duty, and the scene of our training. Here we have our
place to fill, our relations to sustain, our part to play,
And yet, when one thinks of the beauty and sweetness
of much that pertains to our earthly existence,
and of the goodness of God in material or temporal
gifts, and of the thankfulness with which Christian
hearts are to take these when they are given, and are
to walk with God in the use of them, one feels the risk
of involving oneself here in extravagance or in contradiction.
We are not going to maintain that the Apostle
would shut himself out, or us, from interest or delight
in the innocent beauty or gladness of the earth. But
yet, is it not true that we are all passing on to death,
and in death are to be parted from all this? Is it not
true that as Christians we consent to dying; we count
it the good discipline of Christ's people that they should
die, and pass so into the better life? Is it not true
Meanwhile, it is well, no doubt, that we should cherish a frank and thankful gladness in all earthly good and earthly beauty that can be taken as from the Father's hand. Yet there should grow upon us an inward consent, strengthening as the days go by, that this shall not endure; that it shall not be our permanent possession; that it shall be loosely held, as ere long to be parted from. Such a mind should grow, not because our hearts are cold to the present country of our being, but because they are warming towards a better country. These earthly things are good, but they are not ours; we have only a lease of them, terminable at any time. Who shall bring us to that which is, and shall eternally be, our very own?
So Christ our Master passed through life, with an
open eye and heart for the fair and the lovable around
Him, for flowers and little children, and for what was
estimable or attractive in men, even in a natural way.
Surely all was dear to Him on which He could see the
trace of the Creator's holy hands. Yet He passed on
and passed by, going forward to death and consenting
Now let this be especially observed, that while we may here recognise a practical lesson to be learned, the wisest of us may also recognise it as a lesson we could not undertake to teach to ourselves. To oppose sin, when conscience and God's word warn us of its presence, is at least something definite and plain. But how to take the right attitude and bear the right mind towards this various, manifold, engrossing, wonderful human life, as it unfolds for us here—how shall that be done? Some have tried to answer by amputating large sections of human experience. But that is not the way. For, indeed, it is in human life itself—in this present, and, for the present, the only form of our existence—that we must take the right view of human life, and form the right mind about it. Moreover, our conditions are varying continually, from the state of the little child, open to every influence that strikes the sense, to the state of the old man, whom age is shutting up in a crippled and stunted existence. The just equipoise of soul for one stage of life, could it be attained, would not be the just equipoise for the next.
The truth is, there is no ready-made theory here for
any of us. All our attainments in it are tentative and
provisional; which does not hinder, however, that they
may be very real. When we believe in Christ we
become aware that there is a lesson in this department
to be learned, and we become willing, in a measure, to
The first is the inevitable conflict with sin and temptation. The Christian must, at all events, strive against known sin, and he must hold himself ready to resist the onset of temptation, watching and praying. In this discipline he soon learns how sin is entangled for him with much that in other respects seems desirable or good; he learns that in rejecting sin he must forgo some things which on other accounts he gladly would embrace. It is often a painful conflict through which he has to pass. Now in seeking help from his Lord, and entering into the fellowship of the mind of Christ, he is not only strengthened to repel the sin, but also learns to submit willingly to any impoverishment or abridgement of earthly life which the conflict entails. He is taught in practice, now in one form, now in another, to count all things but loss—to lower the overweening estimate of earthly treasure and let it go, dying to it with his dying Lord.
Then, besides, there is the discipline of suffering.
Sorrow, indeed, is not peculiar to Christians. Of it, all
are partakers. But Christian endurance is part of a
fellowship with Christ, in which we learn of Him. In
the warm air of prosperity a hot mist rises round the
soul, that hides from view the great realities, and that
deceives and misleads us with its vain mirage. But in
suffering, taken in Christ's way and in fellowship with
Him, in the pain of disappointment and of loss, and
And, lastly, the growth of Christian experience and Christian character deepens our impressions of the worth of Christ's salvation, and gives more body and more ardour to Christian hope. As that world with its perfect good draws the believer, as it becomes more visible to faith and more attractive, his grasp of this world becomes, perhaps, not less kindly, but it becomes less tenacious. Knowledge, such as the schools of earth afford, we still feel to be desirable and good. Love, under the conditions which earth supplies for its exercise, we still feel to be very dear. The activities which call out courage and resource, we still feel to be interesting and worthy. Yet knowledge proves to be but in part. And love, if it does not die, needs for its health and security a purer air. And in the problems of active life failure still mingles with success. But the love of God which is in Jesus Christ grows in worth and power; so that, in new applications of the principle, we learn afresh to "count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ."
In a word, then, that we may grow into the mind
of Christ, sufferings and self-denials are appointed to
come into experience. He sets them for us; we should
not wisely set them for ourselves. They come in the
Some such view of the ends of Christ in regard to separation from sin and disengagement from the life which is doomed to die, we suppose to have been before Paul's mind. He had come to Christ for life, abundant and victorious, such as should be answerable to the power of Christ's resurrection. But he saw that such life must fulfil itself in a certain dying, made good in a fellowship of Christ's sufferings; and it must find its completeness and its peace beyond death, in the resurrection of the dead. Did he flinch or shrink from this? No: he longed to have it all perfectly accomplished. His knowledge of Christ was to be not only in the power of His resurrection, but in the fellowship of His sufferings, being made conformable to His death.
Whatever mistakes have been made by followers of the ascetic life, it is a mistake on the other side to neglect this element of Christianity. He who is not self-denied, and that cheerfully, to the danger and seduction of lawful things, is one who has not his loins girt nor his lamp burning.
It is worth our while to mark the thoroughgoing
In parting from these great Christian thoughts we may note how fitly the power of Christ's resurrection takes precedence of the fellowship of His sufferings and the being made conformable to His death. Some have thought that, as death comes before resurrection, the order of the clauses might have been inverted. But it is only through the precedent virtue of Christ's resurrection that such a history is achieved, either in Paul or in any of us. We must be partakers of life in the power of Christ's resurrection, if we are to carry through the fellowship with the suffering and the death.
"Not that I have already obtained, or am already made perfect: but I press on, if so be that I may apprehend that for which also I was apprehended by Christ Jesus. Brethren, I count not myself yet to have apprehended: but one thing I do, forgetting the things which are behind, and stretching forward to the things which are before, I press on toward the goal unto the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus. Let us therefore, as many as be perfect, be thus minded: and if in anything ye are otherwise minded, even this shall God reveal unto you: only, whereunto we have already attained, by that same rule let us walk. "Brethren, be ye imitators together of me, and mark them which so walk even as ye have us for an ensample."—Phil. iii. 12-17 (R.V.).
Some feeling of this kind may have led the Apostle to lay stress on the onward energising character of Christianity as he knew it. This was the manner of his regard to his Lord. At the foundation of his religion there was, indeed, the faith of a wonderful gift of righteousness and life. That gift he welcomed and embraced. But it wrought in him eagerness of desire, and intentness of purpose, to secure and have all that this gift implied. It stirred him to activity and progress. His was not the Christianity of one who counts himself to have already obtained all into possession, nor of one who finds himself landed already in the state at which the Christian promises aim. Rather he is one set in full view of a great result: some experience of the benefits of it is already entering into his history; but it is yet to be brought to pass in its fulness; and that must be along a line of believing endeavour, Christ working and Paul working, Christ faithful with Paul faithful. "I follow after, if that I may lay hold and extend my grasp, seeing Christ has laid hold with His grasp on me." Christ had a purpose, and has mightily inaugurated a process through which this purpose may be achieved in the history of Paul. And as Christ lays His grasp on Paul, behold the purpose of Christ becomes also the purpose of Paul, and he now throws himself into the process with all his force, to apprehend that for the sake of which Christ apprehended him.
The question may here be put how the consistency
of the gospel can be made out if we are called to rest
and rejoice in Christ, and if, at the same time, we find
ourselves committed to so absorbing a struggle for a
prize. If God will have us, it may be said, to seek and
First, let it be considered that the faith of a Christian
embraces real relations with the living God, different
from anything that is possible to unbelief. Through
Christ we believe in God. Those relations are conceived
to be real and vital from the first, though the
perfect experience of all that they imply belongs to the
future. Faith means that from the outset of believing
we are to be to God, and God is to be to us, something
different from what the flesh perceives. Christ believed
in is an assurance that so it is and shall be. But now,
the state of men is such, as long as they have to carry
on a life of faith in a world of sense and sin, that this
It lies therefore in the very nature of the case that, if faith is in earnest in embracing real and progressive salvation, it must find itself drawn into conflict and effort to assert the reality and to experience the progress. The opposition it meets with ensures this.
On the other hand, it is the nature of the gospel to set men free for active service. It supplies motives, therefore, for enterprise, diligence, and fidelity; and it provides a goal towards which all shall tend. So men become fellow-labourers with their Lord. And if it is intelligible that the Lord should exert continual care for them, it ought to be intelligible also that they are to be exercised in a continual care for Him; care, that is, for the discharge of the trust which they hold from Him.
As usual in the case of illustrations, this one will not
hold in all points. For instance, in a race one only
wins, and all the rest are defeated and disappointed.
This is not so in the Christian race. The analogies lie
elsewhere. In order to run well the runners submit to
preparation in which everything is done to bring out
their utmost energy for the race. When the race
The prize can be nothing else than the life eternal
(
Perhaps some one may regard it as objectionable to conceive practical Christianity as a race for a prize. This seems, it may be said, to subordinate the present to the future, this world to the other world, and, in particular, virtue to happiness; because in this way the efforts of goodness here are conceived only as a means to enjoyment or satisfaction there. We reply that the prize does indeed include joy, the joy of the Lord. But it includes, first of all, goodness, consummate in the type of it proper to the individual; and gladness is present no otherwise than as it is harmonised with goodness, being indeed her proper sister and companion. Besides, the elements of the gladness of that state come in as the expression of God's love—a love both holy and wise. Communion with that love is the true security for goodness. It is equally absurd to suppose, on the one hand, that when that love fills the heart with its unreserved communication there can fail to be gladness; and, on the other hand, to suppose that fellowship with it can be other than the proper and supreme object of a creature's aspiration.
It is true that a complete gift of eternal life is held
out to us in Christ, and it is faith's part to accept that
gift and to rest in it. But yet part of that gift itself
is an emancipation of the soul; in virtue of this the
man becomes actively responsive to the high calling,
reiterates his fundamental decision all along the detail
of mortal life, affirms his agreement with the mind and
life of his Lord, approves himself faithful and devoted,
and runs so as to obtain. All this is in the idea of
the gift bestowed, and is unfolded in the experience of
the gift received. So the prize is to arise to us as the
close of a course of progressive effort tending that
way: the reality of the prize corresponds to the reality
of the progress; the degree of it, in some way, to the
rate of that progress. The progress itself is made
good, as we have said, by perpetually re-affirming the
initial choice; doing so in new circumstances, under
new lights, with a new sense of its meaning, against
the difficulties implied in new temptations; yet so as
ever, in the main, to abide by the beginning of our
confidence. With all this let it be remembered that
the time is short; and it will be understood that the
How far short men fall of the great idea of such a life—how they flinch from the perfectness of this Christian imperfection—need not be enlarged upon. But if any life is wholly untrue to this ideal, the Apostle seemingly could not count it Christian. This one thing he did, he bent himself to the race. For if the ultimate attainment has become very attractive, if the sense of present disproportion to it is great, and if, in Christ, both the obligation and the hopefulness of reaching the perfect good have become imperatively plain, what can a man do but run?
Verses 15 and 16 state the use which the Apostle desires his disciples to make of this account of his own views and feelings, his attitude and his effort,—"As many of us as are perfect."
Since the Apostle has disclaimed (ver. 12) being
already perfected, it may seem strange that he should
now say, "As many of us as are perfect." His use
of language in other places, however, warrants the
position that he is not speaking of absolute perfection,
as if the complete result of the Christian calling had
been attained. Rather he is thinking of ripe practical
insight into the real spirit of the Christian life—that is
to say, advanced acquaintance, by experience, with the
real nature of the Christian life. He uses this word
"perfect" in contrast to "babes" or "children" in
It cannot be doubted, however, that the word is
used here with a certain emphatic significance in
reference to the previous disclaimer, "I am not yet
perfected." In the Philippians, or in some of them, Paul
apprehended the existence of a self-satisfied mood of
mind, such as might perhaps be warrantable if they
were now perfect, if Christianity had brought forth all
its results for them, but on no other terms. In contrast
to this he had set before them the intense avidity
with which he himself stretched out towards attainment
and completeness which he had not reached. And
now he teaches them that to be thus well aware how
far we are from the true completeness, to be thus
reaching out to it, is the true perfection of our present
For is there such a thing attainable here as a
Christian perfectness, a ripe fulness of the Christian
life, which exhibits that working of it, in its various
forces, which was designed for this stage of our history?
If so, what must it be? That man surely is the perfect
man who fully apprehends the position in which the
gospel places him here, and the ends it sets before him,
and who most fully admits into his life the views and
considerations which, in this state of things, the gospel
proposes. Then, he must be a man penetrated with a
sense of the disproportion between his attainment and
Christ's ideal, and at the same time set on fire with the
It is not so surprising, and it is not so severely to be
reprehended, if those fail in this point who are but
children in Christ. When the glorious things of the
new world are freshly bursting into view, when the
affections of the child of God are in their early exercise,
when sin for the present seems stricken down,
it is not so wonderful if men suppose danger and
difficulty to be over. Like the Corinthians, "now they
are full, now they are rich, now they have reigned as
kings." It has often been so; and at that stage it may
be more easily pardoned. One may say of it, "They
will learn their lesson by-and-by; they will soon find
out that in the life of a Christian all is not triumph
and exultation." But it concerns those who have got
further on, and it is expected of them, that they should
be "thus minded" as the Apostle Paul was. It is a
more serious business for them to be of another mind
on this point, than for those who are only children in
Christ. It tends to great loss. Are we, says the
Apostle, come to a point at which we may be thought
to be—may hope we are—experienced believers, well
A man is awakened to the supreme importance of
Divine things. At the outset of his course, for years
perhaps, he is a vigorous and growing Christian. So
he comes to a large measure of establishment: he
grows into knowledge of truth and duty. But after
a time the feeling creeps into his mind that matters
are now less urgent. He acts rather as a man disposed
to keep his ground, than as one that would advance.
Now he seems to himself to lose ground somewhat,
now to awaken a little and recover it, and on those
terms he is fairly well contented. All this while it
would be unjust to say that he does not love and serve
Christ. But time passes on; life draws nearer to its
"Let us be thus minded." Let Christians be admonished who have for some time been Christians, and especially those who are passing through middle life, or from middle life into older years. There is enchanted ground here, in passing over which too many of Christ's servants go to sleep. Leave that which is behind.
Let us be thus minded: but this proves hard. One
may see it in a general way to be most reasonable, but
to come up to it in particulars is hard. In all particular
cases we are tempted to be otherwise minded. And in
many particulars we find it very difficult to judge the
manner of spirit that we are of. Were all right in us,
absolutely right, rectitude of disposition and of moral
action would be in a manner instinctive. But now it
is not so. With reference to many aspects of our life,
it is very difficult to bring out distinctly to our own
minds how the attitude that becomes us is to be attained
and maintained. The difficulty is real; and therefore
a promise is annexed. "If in anything ye be otherwise
minded." That may realise itself in two ways. You
may be distinctly conscious that your way of dealing
Paul here has regard to a distinction which theorists
are apt to overlook. We have a sufficient objective
rule in the word and example of Christ. This may be
summarised in forms easily repeated, and a man may,
in that respect, know all that need be said as to what
he is to do and to be. But in morals and in spiritual
life this is only the beginning of another process—namely,
the subjective individual entrance into the
meaning of it all and the practical appropriation of it.
I know the whole of duty on the human side: I am to
love my neighbour as myself. It is most essential to
know it, and a grand thing to have consented to make
a rule of it. But, says one, there remains the difficulty
Moreover, when progress has been made here it imposes responsibility. Have you been carried forward to such and such degrees of this subjective insight? Then this ought to be for you a fruitful attainment. Do not neglect its suggestions, do not prove careless and untrue to insight attained. Whereto we have attained, "by the same rule let us walk,"—or, as we may render it, "go on in the same line." So new insight and new achievement shall wait upon our steps.
Generally, if their Lord had carried the Philippians
But such an admonition at once raises a question;
the question, namely, whether we are at any stage in
the pathway of Christian attainment, whether there is
for us as yet any history of a Divine life. Among those
who claim part in Christ's benefits are some whom the
grace of God has never taught to deny ungodliness and
worldly lusts, and to live soberly, righteously, and godly;
for they have been persistently deaf to the lesson.
There are some who do not know how Christ turns
men from darkness to light, and from the power of
Satan unto God. To them the line of admonition now
"For many walk, of whom I told you often, and now tell you even weeping, that they are the enemies of the cross of Christ: whose end is perdition, whose god is the belly, and whose glory is in their shame, who mind earthly things."—Phil. iii. 18, 19 (R.V.).
It may be taken as certain that the Apostle is not
speaking of mere Jews or mere heathen. He is
What first strikes the Apostle about them is that they are enemies of the cross of Christ. One asks, Does he mean enemies of the doctrine of the cross, or of its practical influence and efficiency? The two are naturally connected. But here perhaps the latter is principally intended. The context, especially what follows in the Apostle's description, seems to point that way.
When Christ's cross is rightly apprehended, and
when the place it claims in the mind has been cordially
yielded, it becomes, as we see in the case of Paul himself,
a renovating principle, the fountain of a new view
and a new course. That immense sacrifice for our
redemption from sin decides that we are no more to
live the rest of our time in the flesh to the lusts of men
(
Under this influence we take up our cross; which is
substantially the same as renouncing or denying ourselves
(
It seems, then, that there are professing Christians
who are enemies of the cross of Christ. Not that it is
always an open and proclaimed hostility; though, indeed,
in the case of those whom Paul is thinking of, it
would appear to have revealed itself pretty frankly.
But at all events it is a real aversion; they would have
nothing to do with the cross, or as little as they may.
It is, however, an interesting question, What draws
to Christianity those who prove to be enemies of the
cross? Nowadays we may explain the adhesion of
many such persons to Christian profession by referring
to family and social influences. But we can hardly set
much down to that score when we are thinking of the
days of Paul. It cannot be doubted that some persons
were then strongly drawn by Christianity, who did not
prove amenable to its most vital influence. And that
may persuade us that the same phenomenon recurs in
all ages and in all Churches. For different minds there
are different influences which may operate in this way.
Intellectual interest may be stirred by the Christian
teachings; the sense of truth and reality may be appealed
to by much in the Christian view of men and
things; there may be a genuine satisfaction in having
life and feelings touched and tinged with the devout
emotions which breathe in Christian worship; there
In the case of those whom Paul thinks of there was no room for doubt as to the real nature of the case; and therefore the Apostle cannot too emphatically bring it out. He puts first the most startling view of it. Their end is destruction. Not salvation, but destruction is before them, although they name the name of Christ. Destruction is the port they are sailing for: that is the tendency of their whole career. Their place must be at last with those on whom the day of the Lord brings sudden destruction, so that they shall not escape. Alas for the Christians whose end is destruction!
"Their god is their belly." Their life was sensual.
And they glory in their shame. In this Epistle and
In a word, their character is summed up in this, that they mind earthly things. That is the region in which their minds are conversant and to which they have regard. The higher world of truths and forces and objects which Christ reveals is for them inoperative. It does not appeal to them, it does not awe them, it does not govern them. Their minds can turn in this direction on particular occasions, or with a view to particular discussions; but their bent lies another way. The home of their hearts, the treasure which they seek, the congenial subjects and interests, are earthly.
Since this whole description is meant to carry its
lesson by suggestion of contrast, the clause last referred
to brings powerfully before us the place to be given to
the spiritual mind in our conception of a true Christian
life. In the eighth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans
we are told that to be carnally minded—or the minding
of the flesh—is death, but the minding of the spirit is
life and peace. Care, therefore, is to be taken of our
thoughts and of our practical judgments, so that they
may be according to the spirit. Effort in this direction
is hopeful effort, because we believe that Christ grants
Probably, as was said, the Apostle is speaking of a
class of men whose faults were gross, so that at least
an Apostolic eye could not hesitate to read the verdict
that must be passed upon them. But then we must
consider that his object in doing this was to address
a warning to men to whom he imputed no such gross
failings; concerning whom, indeed, he was persuaded
far other things, even things that accompany salvation;
but whom he knew to be exposed to influences tending
in the same direction, and whom he expected to see
preserved only in the way of vigilance and diligence.
The protest against the cross is still maintained even
in the company of Christ's professed disciples. But
this takes place most commonly, and certainly most
persuasively, without advancing any plea for conduct
grossly offensive, or directly inconsistent with Christian
morals. The "enemies of the cross" retreat into a
safer region, where they take up positions more capable
of defence. "Why have a cross?" they say. "God
has not made us spiritual beings only: men ought not
to attempt to live as if they were pure intelligences or
immaterial spirits. Also, God has made men with a
design that they should be happy; they are to embrace
and use the elements of enjoyment with which He has
so richly surrounded them. He does not mean us to
be clouded in perpetual gloom, or to be on our guard
against the bright and cheering influences of the earth.
He has made all things beautiful in their time; and He
has given to us the capacity to recognise this that we
may rejoice in it. Instead of scowling on the beauty
of God's works, and the resources for enjoyment they
supply, it is more our part to drink in by every sense,
from nature and from art, the brightness, and gladness,
and music, and grace. Let us seek, as much as may be
There is real truth here; for, no doubt, it lies in the
destiny of man to bring the world into experience
according to God's order: if this is not to be done in
ways of sin and transgression, it is yet to be done in
right ways; and in doing it, man is designed to be
gladdened by the beauty of God's handiwork and by
the wealth of His beneficence. And yet such statements
can be used to shelter a life of enmity to the
cross, and they are often employed to conceal the more
momentous half of the truth. As long as the things
of earth can become materials by means of which we
may be tempted to fall away from the Holy One, and
as long as we, being fallen, are corruptly disposed to
make idols of them, we cannot escape the obligation to
keep our hearts with diligence. So long, also, as we
live in a world in which men, with a prevailing consent,
work up its resources into a system which shuts God
and Christ out; so long as men set in motion, by means
of those resources, a stream of worldliness by which we
are at all times apt to be whirled away,—so long every
man whose ear and heart have become open to Christ
will find that as to the things of earth there is a cross
to bear. For he must decide whether his practical life
is to continue to accept the Christian inspiration. He
must make his choice between two things, whether he
will principally love and seek a right adjustment with
things above, with the objects and influences of the
Every legitimate element of human experience, of human culture and attainment, is, doubtless open to the Christian man. Only, in making his personal selection among them, the Christian will keep sight of the goal of his high calling, and will weigh the conditions under which he himself must aim at it. Still every such element is open; and all legitimate satisfaction accruing to men from such sources is to be received with thankfulness. Let all this be recognised. But Christianity, by its very nature, requires us to recognise also, and in a due proportion, something else. It requires us to recognise the evil of sin, the incomparable worth of Christ's salvation. Along with these things, duly regarded, let all innocent earthly interests take their place. But if we are conscious that as yet we have very incompletely established the right proportionate regard, is it any wonder if we are obliged to keep watch, lest the treacherous idolatry of things seen and temporal should carry us away,—obliged to accept the cross? We are obliged; but in the school of our Master we should learn to do this thing most gladly, not by constraint, but of a ready mind.
This is one of the reasons why we must not judge
one another about these things; why we must not lay
down absolute rules about them; why even our recommendations
must be provisional and prudential only.
It is at the same time a reason for the more fidelity in
each of us towards himself, to see that we do not trifle
with the great trust of regulating our own life. It is
possible to give to God and to Christ a recognition
which is not consciously dishonest, and yet to fail in
admitting any deep and dominant impression of the
Since the earthly side of human life, with its sorrow
and joy, its work and its leisure, is legitimate and
inevitable, questions arise about adjusting details.
And in particular, those who retain a relation to
Christianity while they cherish a worldly spirit, take
a delight in raising questions as to the forms of life
which are, or are not, in harmony with Christianity,
and as to whether various practices and indulgences
are to be vindicated or condemned. It is a satisfaction
to persons of this sort to have a set of fixed points laid
down, with respect to which, if they conform, they may
take the credit of doing so, and if they rebel, they may
have the comfort of feeling that the case is arguable:
as indeed these are often matters upon which one
may argue for ever. Now what is clearly prohibited or
clearly warranted in Scripture, as permanent instruction
for the Church, must be maintained. But beyond that
point it is often wisest to refuse to give any specific
answer to the questions so raised. The true answer
is, Are you a follower of Christ? Then it is laid on
your own conscience, at your own responsibility, to
answer such questions for yourself. No one can come
"For our citizenship is in heaven; from whence also we wait for a Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ: who shall fashion anew the body of our humiliation, that it may be conformed to the body of His glory, according to the working whereby He is able even to subject all things unto Himself."—Phil. iii. 20, 21 (R.V.).
"Our citizenship is in heaven." The word here
used (comp. i. 27) means the constitution or manner
of life of a state or city. All men draw much from the
spirit and laws of the commonwealth to which they
A way of thinking and acting prevails throughout
the world, as if earth and its interests were the whole
sphere of man; and being pervaded by this spirit, the
whole world may be said to be a commonwealth with
a spirit and with maxims of its own. We, who live in
it, feel it natural to comply with the drift of things in
this respect, and difficult to stand against it; so that
separation and singularity seem unreasonable and hard.
We claim for our lives the support of a common understanding;
we yearn for the comfort of a system of things
existing round us, in which we may find countenance. It
was urged against the Christians of the early ages that
their religion was unsocial—it broke the ties by which
Does this go too high? Does some one say, "Something in this direction attracts me and I reach out to it, but ah! how feebly"?—then how strongly does the principle of the Apostle's admonition apply. If we own that this city rightfully claims us, if we are deeply conscious of shortcoming in our response to that claim, then how much does it concern us to allow no earthly thing that by its own nature drags us down from our citizenship in heaven.
It is in heaven. Many ways it might be shown to be
The expectation of the coming of Christ out of the
world of supreme truth and purity, where God is known
and served aright, to fulfil all His promises,—this is the
Church's and the believer's great hope. It is set before
us in the New Testament as a motive to every duty,
as giving weight to every warning, as determining the
Some harm has been done, perhaps, by the degree
in which attention has been concentrated on debatable
points about the time of the Lord's coming, or the order
of events in relation to it; but more by the measure in
which Christians have allowed the world's unbelieving
temper to affect on this point the habit of their own
minds. It must be most seriously said that our Lord
Himself expected no man to succeed in escaping the
corruption of the world and enduring to the end, otherwise
than in the way of watching for his Lord (see
And the Apostle lays an emphasis on the character
in which we expect Him. The word "Saviour" is emphatic.
We look for a Saviour; not merely One who
Doubtless it is unwise to lay down extreme positions as to the spirit in which we are to deal with temporal things, and especially with their winning and attractive aspects. Christian men, at peace with God, should not only feel spiritual joy, but may well make a cheerful use of passing mercies. Yet certainly the Christian's hope is to be saved out of this world, and out of life as he knows it here, into one far better—saved out of the best and brightest state to which this present state of things can bring him. The Christian spirit is giving way in that man who, in whatever posture of his worldly affairs, does not feel that the present is a state entangled with evil, including much darkness and much estrangement from the soul's true rest. He ought to be minded so as to own the hope of being saved out of it, looking and hasting to the coming of the Lord.
If we lived out this conviction with some consistency,
we should not go far wrong in our dealings with this
As far as individual life goes, the position of men in both periods is much the same; it is so, in spite of all the changes that have taken place. Then, as now, the mirage of life tempted men to dream of felicities here, which hindered them from lifting up their heads to a prospect of redemption. But now, as then, counter influences work; the short and precarious term of human life, its disappointments, its cares and sorrows, its conflicts and falls, conspire to teach even the most reluctant Christian that the final and satisfying rest is not to be found here. So that the difference seems to arise mainly from a secret failure of faith on this point, due to the impression made by long ages in which Christ has not come. "Where is the promise of His coming? All things continue as they were."
This may suggest, however, that influences are recognisable,
tending to form, in modern Christians, a
habit of thought and feeling less favourable to vivid
expectation of Christ's coming. It does not arise so
much in connection with individual experience, but is
rather an impression drawn from history and from the
common life of men. In the days of Paul, general
One thing must be said. It is vain for us to suppose
we can adjust beforehand, to our own satisfaction, the
elements which enter into the future, so as to make a
well-fitted scheme of it. That was not designed. And
in this case two ways of looking at the future are apt
to strive together. The man who is occupied with
processes that, as he conceives, might eventuate in
a reign of goodness reached by gradual amelioration,
by successive victories of the better cause, may look
How decisive the change is which Christ completes at
His coming—how distinctive, therefore, and unworldly,
that citizenship which takes its type from heaven
where He is, and from the hope of His appearing—is
last of all set forth. Paul might have dwelt on many
great blessings the full meaning of which will be unfolded
when Christ comes; for He is to conform all
things to Himself. But Paul prefers to signalise what
shall befall our bodies; for that makes us feel that not
one element in our state shall fail to be subjected to the
victorious energy of Christ. Our bodies are, in our
present state, conspicuously refractory to the influences
of the higher kingdom. Regeneration makes no improvement
on them. In our body we carry about with
us what seems to mock the idea of an ethereal and
ideal life. And when we die, the corruption of the
For the Apostle Paul the question how the body is
to be reckoned with in any lofty view of human life had
a peculiar interest. One sees how his mind dwelt
upon it. He does not indeed impute to the body any
original or essential antagonism to the soul's better life.
But it shares in the debasement and disorganisation
implied in sin; it has become the ready avenue for
many temptations. Through it the man has become
participant of a vivid and unintermittent earthliness,
contrasting all too sadly with the feebleness of spiritual
impressions and affections, so that the balance
of our being is deranged. Nor does grace directly
affect men's bodily conditions. Here, then, is an
element in a renewed life that has a peculiar refractoriness
and irresponsiveness. So much is this so that sin
in our complex nature easily turns this way, easily
finds resources in this quarter. Hence sin in us often
takes its denomination from this side of things. It is
the flesh, and the minding of the flesh, that is to be
crucified. On the other hand, just because life for
us is life in the body, therefore the body with its
members must be brought into the service of Christ,
and must fulfil the will of God. "Yield your bodies a
The body, then, by which we hold converse with the
world, and by which we give expression to our mental
life, has shared in the evil that comes by sin. We find
it to be the body of our humiliation. It is not only
liable to pain, decay, and death, not only subject to
We have more than once acknowledged how natural
it is to dream of constructing a Christian life on earth
with all its elements, natural and spiritual, perfectly harmonised,
each having its place in relation to each so as
to make the music of a perfect whole. And in the
strength of such a dream, some look down on all
Christian practice as blind and narrow, which seems to
them to mar life by setting one element of it against
another. It must be owned that narrow types of
Christianity have often needlessly offended so. Nevertheless
we have here a new proof that the dream of
those who would achieve a perfect harmony, in the
present state and under present conditions, is vain.
A perfect Christian harmony of life cannot be restored
Against the ways of Jewish self-righteousness, and
against the impulses of fleshly minds, the Apostle had
set the true Christianity—the methods in which it
grows, the influences on which it relies, the truths and
hopes by which it is mainly sustained, the high citizenship
which it claims and to the type of which it
resolutely conforms. All this was possible in Christ,
all this was actual in Christ, all this was theirs in Christ.
Yet this is what is brought into debate, by unbelief and
sin; this against unbelief and sin has to be maintained.
Some influences come to shake us as to the truth of it—"It
is not so real after all." Some influences come to
shake us as to the good of it—"It is not after all so very,
so supremely, so satisfyingly good." Some influences
come to shake us as to our own part in it—"It can
hardly control and sustain my life, for after all perhaps—alas,
most likely—it is not for me, it cannot be for me."
Against all this we are to make our stand, in and with
our Lord and Master. He is our confidence and our
strength. How the Apostle longed to see this victory
achieved in the case of all these Philippians, who were
"I exhort Euodia, and I exhort Syntyche, to be of the same mind in the Lord. Yea, I beseech thee also, true yokefellow, help these women, for they laboured with me in the gospel, with Clement also, and the rest of my fellow-workers whose names are in the book of life. "Rejoice in the Lord alway: again I will say, Rejoice. Let your forbearance be known unto all men. The Lord is at hand. In nothing be anxious; but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall guard your hearts and your thoughts in Christ Jesus."—Phil. iv. 2-7 (R.V.).
People cannot always think alike, not even Christians who share the same service. But there is a Christian way of behaving about these inevitable divergences. And, in particular, in such cases we might be expected to show a superiority, in Christ our Lord, to minor differences, not allowing them to trouble the great agreement and the dear affection in which Christ has bound us. Whatever is to be said about a difference, as to its merits, the main thing that has to be said about it often is, "You should not have let it come between you. You should, both of you, have been big enough and strong enough in Christ, to know how to drop it and forget it. In making so much of it, in allowing it to make so much of itself, you have been children, and naughty children."
What this difference was we do not know; and it is
of no consequence. Paul does not address himself to
it. He holds both parties to be in the wrong now, and,
for his purpose, equally in the wrong; and he addresses
entreaty to both, in exactly the same terms, to agree in
In difficulties between Christians, as between other people, wise and loving friendship may perform the most important services. Selfishness shrinks from rendering these; and on the other hand, meddlesomeness, which is a form of egotism combined with coarseness, rushes in only to do harm. Wisdom is needed, mainly the wisdom which consists in loving thoughtfulness. The love which seeketh not her own, and is not easily provoked, is much called for in this ministry of reconciliation.
These good women had little idea, probably, that
their names should come down the ages in connection
with this disagreement of theirs; and they might have
deprecated it if they had thought of it. But let them
be remembered with all honour—two saints of God,
who loved and laboured for Christ, who bore the cross,
The commentators have tried to divine something further about this "true yokefellow"; but with no success. As to Clement, some have been willing to identify him with the Clement known to have laboured in the first age at Rome, and who is reported to have been the writer of a well-known Epistle from the Church at Rome to that at Corinth. He, again, has been by some identified with another Clement, also a Roman, a near relation of the Emperor Domitian, whom we have reason to believe to have been a Christian. Both identifications are probably mistaken; and the Clement now before us was no doubt resident at Philippi, and belonged to a somewhat earlier generation than his Roman namesake. The Roman world was full of Clements, and there is nothing surprising in meeting several Christians who bore the name.
With the "yokefellow" and with Clement, the Apostle
recalls other "labourers" who belonged to the fellowship
of those gospel days at Philippi. We are not to think
that they were all gifted as teachers or preachers; but
These personal references indicate that the main burden of the Apostle's thought in the Epistle has been disposed of, and that it is drawing to a close. Yet he finds it natural to add some closing admonitions. They are brief and pithy; they do not seem to labour with the weight of thought and feeling which pours through the preceding chapter. Yet they are not quite fragmentary. A definite conception of the case to be provided for underlies them, and also a definite conception of the way in which its necessities are to be met.
He had been pouring out his soul on the subject of
the true Christian life—the deep sources from which it
springs, the great channels in which it runs, the magnificent
conditions of Christ's kingdom under which it
The Apostle reverts to the significant "good-bye" which was heard at the beginning of the third chapter. "Rejoice," "Be of good cheer," was the usual farewell salute. He had begun to use it, in the third chapter, with an emphasis on the native signification of the word. Now he resumes it more emphatically still, for here he finds the keynote which he wants: "Rejoice in the Lord alway; again I will say it, Rejoice."
If joy be possible, it would seem to need no great
persuasion to induce men to embrace it. But, as a
If one will think of it, it will be plain that rejoicing
in the Lord just denotes this, viz., that the influence of
the objects of faith has free play through the soul. It
is well that faith should bring our intellective powers
under its influence—that we should be brought to a
vivid sense of the reality of Christ, and that our minds
should work in reference to Him as they do in reference
to things which are felt to be real, and which claim
You well may rejoice in the Lord; you ought surely
to do it. You ought to give yourselves time to think
and feel so as to rejoice; you should be ashamed to fail
to rejoice. You do not apprehend aright your position
as a believer, you do not take the attitude that befits
you, if the Lord believed in, though perhaps He makes
you diligent, and patient, and penitent, and thankful,
does not also make you heartily glad. Let the elements
of this gladness come warm home to your heart, and
do their work. Then you will realise, as, short of this,
you never can, how the believer rises above the things
And, in particular, how influential this is to preserve men from being unduly moved and swayed by the passing things of time! These sway us by joy and grief, by hope and fear; and what an inordinate measure of those affections they do beget in us! But let the great joy of the Lord have its place, and then those lesser claimants will have to content themselves with smaller room. A great grief shuts out lesser griefs. When a woman has lost her son, will she grieve greatly for the loss of her purse? So a great joy keeps down the excess of lesser joys. A man that has just won the heart and hand of the woman he loves, will not be greatly concerned about winning or losing at some game. He will be about equally glad either way. So he whose heart thrills with the joy of Christ will feel the pleasure and the pain of earthly things; but they will not master him, nor run away with him.
According to the Apostle, a believer in the way of his duty, if he cherishes this joy, may ordinarily have a great deal of it. And, as it were, he urges us: "Now do not be moved away from it. Do not be so foolish. Various things will come, all sorts of things, claiming to preoccupy your mind, so that for the present this joy shall fall into the background. They claim it—and far too often they are allowed to succeed. Do not let them. 'Rejoice in the Lord alway; again I will say, Rejoice.'"
Always: for many believers rejoice in the Lord
So then, "Let your moderation (or forbearance) be
For believers, as we have already seen, the coming of the Lord is, according to the New Testament, the great hope. Then the joy in the Lord is to be complete and crowned. Those who apprehend that glad day as near are not supposed to be capable of yielding up their hearts to the uncontrolled sway of mere earthly interests.
Here, however, a question arises. Paul speaks of
the day as near, and calls on his disciples to live under
Our Lord expressly withheld from His disciples all definite statement of times and seasons in this connection. Yet the Early Church with one consent expected the Lord to come within comparatively few years (what are commonly called few), and language shaped itself in accordance with that impression. We have here, however, more than a mere mode of phrasing. The nearness of Christ is emphasised as the ground on which Christian experience ought to build. Was not this a mistake?
But one may ask in reply, Was it after all untrue that Christ's coming was near then, or that it is near now? Even if anticipations in our own day which bring it within a generation are to fail again, as they have always done before, shall we think that the Lord is not near?
There is a nearness which pertains to all future
events which are at once very great and important, and
also are absolutely certain. Being so great, involving
interests so great, and being contemplated in their
inevitable certainty, such events can loom large upon
the eye, and they can make their influence felt in the
present, whatever tale of days may interpose before
We are apt to ask why the words of warning and
encouragement in reference to the future are not connected
with the prospect of death, rather than with that
of the Lord's return; for death certainly is the topic
generally selected for such purposes by moralists and
preachers of more recent days. The answer may
partly be, that the possibility and likelihood of the Lord's
return, even in the lifetime of themselves and their contemporaries,
might render it more natural for the Apostles
to fix all but exclusively on that. Yet this will not
suffice. For nobody could overlook the fact that some
believers were dying, and that death before the Lord's
return might well be the portion of more. Besides, in
particular circumstances, death does come into view in a
perfectly easy and natural way, as at ch. i. 23; and the
bearing of it on what lies nearer is considered. The
true answer is that death is not the great expectation
of the believer—not death, but victory over death, consummated
and conclusively manifested when the Lord
comes. This expectation certainly is associated with
the solemn prospect of judgment; but not so as to
quench the gladness of the hope for those who love the
Lord and have trusted in Him. This is our expectation—"the
Lord Jesus Christ, who is our hope"
(
Meanwhile, no doubt, the vicissitudes and the possibilities of earthly life press upon us. Now the Apostle provides a special additional relief for that. We are not merely prepossessed with a joy that should fortify us against undue disturbance from this source, but we have access in all things to the mind and heart of our Father. We can bring our thoughts and wishes about them all into contact with the deep, true thoughts and with the fatherly love of God. The incidents and the possibilities of life exercise us: they tend to become anxieties, keen and wearing; and anxieties are the materials of disturbance and temptation. "Be anxious about nothing; but in all things by prayer and supplication, with thankfulness, let your requests be made known unto God."
This is the practical way of getting continually to
those springs of joy which comfort and establish the
It is promised that when we pray in faith God hears us, and that he that asketh receiveth. However, this does not mean that whatever appears to us desirable shall certainly be brought to pass in answer to prayer. That would be to sacrifice our own welfare, and also the order of God's world, to our shortsightedness and vanity. There is great reason to believe indeed that those who live by prayer find many a desire granted, and many a burden lifted, in token of God's loving interest in them, and the heed He gives to their prayers. But we are not to start from a general principle that we are to get all our own way by praying. Two things we may fix upon. First, the absolute promises of the gospel, the blessings which pertain to eternal life, are given to us through prayer. "This poor man cried, and the Lord heard him." Secondly, concerning all other things, we have access to God in prayer, as to One who grudges us no good thing; we are to express our anxieties and our desires, and to receive the assurance that they are lovingly considered by One who knows our frame and understands our troubles. Often the answer comes, even in small things. But, generally, we may in this point have an absolute assurance that we shall either have what we ask, or else something which God sees to be better for us than that.
It is this second article of the doctrine of prayer that
The confidence we have that all this is most real and
solid, and not merely a deceptive piece of religious
acting, comes to us in the channel of the faith and
experience which have been fulfilled in God's children
So it comes to pass that the peace of God which passeth all understanding is found. For this great and deep agreement with God in Christ, about all things great and small, is the very entrance into the peace of God Himself, and is the participation of it. In this, as in other aspects, things are daily realised in the history of believers, that pass all understanding, because God in Christ is in the matter. The infinite and eternal life is wedding itself to us and our affairs. It may be understood, finally, that this peace, arising to Christians at the throne of grace, guards their minds and hearts. It guards them against being overcharged, outworn, surprised; it guards them against being carried captive by earthly care. Yet this peace does not disable them for earthly business. Rather, because their main interests are so secure, it gives them calmness and clearness; it supplies them a moral vantage ground from which to dispose of all earthly affairs.
"Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honourable [venerable], whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things. The things which ye both learned and received and heard and saw in me, these things do: and the God of peace shall be with you."—Phil. iv. 8, 9 (R.V.).
If men are to live as citizens of a heavenly commonwealth,
on great principles and to great ends, it is, as
we have seen, a very practical question, What to do
about the inevitable play and onset of this changing
earthly life, which assails us with motives, and detains
us upon interests, and inspires us with influences, of its
own. These cannot be abjured: they are not easy to
harmonise with the indications of that loftier and purer
world; they are prone to usurp the whole heart, or at
least a very undue share of it. This is the practical
problem of every honest Christian. In reference to
the solving of it the Apostle had suggested the place
given to Christian joy; he had suggested also the place
and power of prayer. These were indications as to
the spirit and the method in which a believer might
We may be helped to fix more firmly the point of
Men are conscious of obligations; and they are aware, more dimly or more clearly, that the standard of those obligations must exist somehow above themselves. It is a standard not of their own creation, but such as claims them by an antecedent right. Yet if each individual could hold himself apart, forming his own conceptions of fit and right for himself without regard to others, the standard would tend downwards rapidly, because moral judgment would be warped by each man's selfishness and passion, excusing evil in his own case and putting it for good. Even as it is, this has taken place only too widely. But yet the tendency is powerfully counteracted by the fact that men do not exist, nor form their notions, in that separate way. A principle within them prompts them to seek one another's approbation, and to value one another's good opinion. Indeed the consciousness that what is law for me is law for others, and that they are judging as well as I, is one of the forms in which we realise that duty descends upon us all, from some august and holy source.
This mutual criticism of men "accusing or else
excusing one another," has had a great effect in
sustaining what we call common morals. But especially
let it be observed that this criticism, and the
consciousness of it, stimulating the higher class of
minds, sustains and develops the finer perceptions
of morality. There are minds that eminently strive
for distinction in things that are counted for a virtue
and a praise. And through them is developed in the
general mind the approving perception of more delicate
shades of worthy conduct, which in a coarser age were
unperceived or unheeded. These come up in men's
Thus there arises, for example, the code of honour, the fine perception of what is socially right, becoming, and graceful. Men, no doubt, are always to be found who cultivate the nicest sense of this, not from a mere desire that others should know it, but because they see it to be desirable in itself, and because they shun the sense of inward disgrace that follows when they fall below their own standard. Yet it is the process of mutual criticism which develops the consciousness, and it is this which, on the whole, sustains it.
Thus we find in the world not merely a sense of duty, but something that has spurred men on to things counted for a virtue and a praise. Outside of all Christian influences, wonderful examples are found of self-sacrificing devotion to the noble and the true. Men have eagerly pursued the nicest discriminations of duty and honour, that they might be, and might show themselves to be, accomplished, finished, not merely in some things, but in whatever things were counted to be the proper tokens of a noble mind.
It is always human duty to have regard to the will
of God, however it may reach us. But when you are
called to know the Lord and to rejoice in Him, when
He vouchsafes Himself to be yours, when you begin to
enjoy His peace, and to walk with Him in love, and to
have it for your hope to be with Him for ever, then
you are placed in a new relation to Him. And it is
And here, indeed, is our crown. The crown of
honour which man cast away when sin gained him,
was the approbation of the Lord. But now we are set
on afresh to seek it, testing our ways by the perception
of that which He approves; or, on the other hand,
what He counts to be mean and degrading, fit to be
recoiled from and rejected. It is our calling (whatever
When our Lord's mind and heart are said to be the test, this does not exclude our profiting by our fellows, accepting the admonition contained in human judgments, and especially in those of Christian people. Great good comes to us in such channels. Only now the judgment of our fellows is to refer itself always to a further standard; and a new Presence brings new tenderness and grace, new depth and significance, to every suggestion of right feeling and worthy life. This is the light and this the influence under which we are to learn what shall be counted for a virtue and for a praise. And we must bend our mind to think upon it, if we are to learn our lesson.
We must think upon it. For, on the one hand, it is
not "some things," but "whatsoever things." What
should we say of a man who proposed in his dealings
with others to do "some things" that are honourable,
but not all things, not "whatsoever things"? And, on
the other hand, we may be further off from even a small
We are greatly hindered here by the assumption
we make, that when we have mastered the form of
knowledge concerning the will of God, we then know
all about our calling. It is a great delusion. We
must not only sit down at the feet of Christ to learn
from Him; but also, with a watchful eye on the phases
of life, catching the lessons which things and men
afford, we must be trained to know and sharpened to
Therefore, says the Apostle, think on these things, the things which in the Lord's kingdom and under the Lord's eye are well-pleasing, and count for a virtue and a praise; think on those things which are related to His esteem, and to the esteem of persons who learn of Him, as various excellences are to the common judgment of the world. Do so, for here you are close to the genuinely and supremely true and good; and this, as was said before, is your crown.
The Apostle is thinking of a perception of duty and privilege attained not merely by studying a catalogue of virtues, but by a far finer and more living process—by life that is instinct with observant watchfulness, that is frank in self-criticism, that is recipient of the light flashing from the experience and the censure of others: all this under constant regard to the Lord, and leading us into fuller sympathy with Him.
That this is so, appears from the Apostle's way of
arranging the particulars of his exhortation. He does
not merely desire his disciples to discern what is right
in general: but he would have them grow into a vital
knowledge, so as to feel the right in those matters
Thus, let it be said once more, the Apostle is not
open to the objection that he calls us to a mere retreat
But progress is not to be made in this line by mere
subtle refining and contemplation. If there was any
danger that the Apostle's call to "think" might be
interpreted that way, presently it is corrected. The
thinking is to be practical thinking, bending itself to
action. "What things ye have received and learned"—those
practical points in which the Apostle always
taught his Gentile converts to put to proof the grace of
Christ; and "What ye have heard and seen in me"—in
a man poor, tried, persecuted, a man whose life
"And the God of peace shall be with you." In those ways (for they are His own ways) God walks with men; and peace with God, spreading out into peace with men, becomes the atmosphere in which such wayfarers move.
"But I rejoice in the Lord greatly, that now at length ye have revived your thought for me; wherein ye did indeed take thought, but ye lacked opportunity. Not that I speak in respect of want: for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therein to be content. I know how to be abased, and I know also how to abound: in everything and in all things have I learned the secret both to be filled and to be hungry, both to abound and to be in want. I can do all things in Him that strengtheneth me. Howbeit ye did well, that ye had fellowship with my affliction. And ye yourselves also know, ye Philippians, that in the beginning of the gospel, when I departed from Macedonia, no Church had fellowship with me in the matter of giving and receiving, but ye only; for even in Thessalonica ye sent once and again unto my need. Not that I seek for the gift; but I seek for the fruit that increaseth to your account. But I have all things, and abound: I am filled, having received from Epaphroditus the things that came from you, an odour of a sweet smell, a sacrifice acceptable, well-pleasing to God. And my God shall fulfil every need of yours according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus. Now unto our God and Father be the glory for ever and ever. Amen. "Salute every saint in Christ Jesus. The brethren which are with me salute you. All the saints salute you, especially they that are of Cæsar's household.
"The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit."—Phil. iv, 10-23 (R.V.).
Worldly eagerness, and worldly care and anxiety
about persons and things, are rebuked by the spirit of
rejoicing in the Lord. But the persons and the things
about us all have a connection with the Lord, if we
have eyes to see it, and hearts to mark it; and that is
the chief thing about them. They are in the Lord's
world, the Lord calls us to have to do with them: as
for the persons, they are, some of them, the Lord's
servants, and all of them the Lord calls us to love and
These Philippians, who had given early proof of attachment to the gospel, had lately, for some reason or other, been unable, "lacked opportunity," to minister to the wants of Paul. Now the winter, whatever it was, that hindered the expression of their goodwill was gone, and their care of Paul flourished again. Did the Apostle think it needful to freeze up the feelings of satisfaction which this incident awakened? No: but in his case those feelings, having spiritual elevation, became so much the more deep and glad. He rejoiced greatly in this; and still, he was rejoicing in the Lord. Let us mark how this comes out both when we consider what was not the spring of his gladness, and what it was.
"Not that I speak in respect of want." It was
not the change from want to comparative plenty that
"Therewith to be content." Paul had learned to be
so minded that, in trying circumstances, he did not
anxiously cast about for help, but was sufficed: his
desires were brought down to the facts of his condition.
In that state he counted himself to have enough. He
knew how to suit himself to abasement, that common
experience of the indigent and friendless; and he
knew how to suit himself to abundance, when that
was sent: each as a familiar state in which he made
himself at home—not overgrieved or overjoyed, not
greatly elevated or greatly depressed. "I have been
instructed," or initiated (the word used by the
heathen of introduction to the mysteries), "not only into
the experience of those conditions, but into the way of
taking kindly with them both." Mark how his words
If we would know by what discipline the Lord
trained Paul to this mind, we may listen to what Paul
himself says of it (
This was the course, and this the fruit, of Paul's biography. But each Christian has his own life, the tenor and the upshot of which should not be wholly estranged from Paul's.
Now what it was that did move him so to rejoice is explained when he speaks of the Philippians "holding fellowship with his affliction"; and, again, when he says, "I desire fruit that may abound to your account." He saw in their succour the blessed unity of Christ's living Church, the members having mutual interest, so that if one suffers all suffer. The Philippians claimed a right to take part as fellow-members in the Apostle's state and wants, and to communicate with his affliction. And this was only a continuation of their former practice in the beginning of the gospel. This, as a fruit of Christ's work and of the presence of His Spirit, refreshed the Apostle. It was a manifestation in the sphere of temporal things of the working of a high principle, communion with the common Lord. And it betokened the progress of the work of grace, in that the Philippians were not weary in well-doing. So it was fruit that abounded to their account.
Now, in virtue of this liberality, Paul had all and
abounded. He had desired to see the old spirit flourish
This gift comes to him. As it comes, what is it?
From its destination and its motives it takes on a
blessed character. It is "an odour of a sweet smell,
a sacrifice acceptable, well-pleasing unto God." This
was what came to the Apostle: something that was
in a peculiar manner God's own, something which He
regarded, set value on, and counted precious. Further,
it turned out to be something in connection with which
the assurance ought to go forth, "My God shall fulfil
every need of yours." They had ministered to Paul's
need, in faith, love, thankfulness, and loyal care of
Christ's servant. Christ counted it done to Him: as
such He would surely repay it, supplying their need
with that considerate liberality which it becomes Him
to exhibit. Observe, then, the position in which the
Apostle finds himself. He is himself the object of
Christian kindness; affections wrought in the Philippians
by the Holy Ghost are clinging to him and caring
for him. He is also one so linked with God's great
cause, that offerings sent to him, in the spirit described,
become an "odour of a sweet smell, an acceptable
sacrifice to the Lord." Also this supply of his need
is so directly a service done to Christ, that when it is
If any one chooses to say that all this was true about the Apostle, and he might have known it, apart from the gift, and even if it had never come, that may be a kind of truth, but it signifies exactly nothing to the purpose. It is one thing to have a doctrine which one knows: it is another thing to have the Holy Spirit setting it home with a warmth and glory that fills the man with joy. The Spirit of God may do this without means, but often He uses means, and, indeed, what we esteem little means; by little things carrying home great impressions, as out of the mouths of babes and sucklings He perfects praise. When a child of God is cast down, no one can tell out of how small a thing the Spirit of God may cause to arise a peace that passeth all understanding.
Christianity confers great weight and dignity on little
things. This gift, not in itself very great, passing
between Christians at Philippi and an Apostle imprisoned
at Rome, belongs after all to an unearthly
sphere. Paul sees its connection with all spiritual
Mark, again, the illustration of the truth that the members have need of one another, and are compacted by that which every joint supplieth, according to the effectual working in the measure of every part. The strong may benefit by the weak, as well as the weak by the strong. This Apostle, who could do all things through Christ who strengthens him, might be very far more advanced as a Christian than any one in Philippi. Possibly there was nothing any of them could say, no advice they could tender to him in words, that would have been of material benefit to the Apostle. But that which, following the impulse of their faith and love, they did, was of material benefit. It filled his heart with a joyful sense of the relation in which he stood to them, to Christ, to God. It welled up for him like a water-spring in a dry land. No one can tell how it may have conduced to enable him to go forward with more liberty and power, testifying in Rome the gospel of God.
Nor must we omit the comfort to all who serve God in their generation arising from the view which the Apostle is here led to take. There may be trials from without and trials from within. Still God careth for His servant. God will provide for him out of that which is peculiarly His own. God so identifies him with Himself, that He must needs requite all who befriend him out of His own riches in glory.
In this connection it is fit we should remember that the
view we take of money, and the use we make of it, are
The other point noteworthy in relation to this Philippian gift is the assurance that it shall be recompensed. God will not be unfaithful to reward their work and labour of love, in that they have ministered to His servant.
We are not to shrink from the doctrine of reward because it has been perverted. It is true the good works of a Christian cannot be the foundation of his title to life eternal. They proceed from the grace of God; they are very imperfect and mixed at their best. Yet they are precious fruits of Christ's death, and of God's grace, arising through the faith and love of souls renewed and liberated. When a penitent and believing man is found devoting to God what he is and has, doing so freely and lovingly, that is a blessed thing. God sets value on it. It is accepted as fruit which the man brings, as the offering which he yields. The heart of Christ rejoices over it. Now it is fit that the value set on this fruit should be shown, and the way God takes to show it is to reward the service. Such a man "shall in no wise lose his reward." God orders the administration of His mercy so that it really comes in a way of recompense for works of faith and labours of love.
This may well convince us that the kindness of our
Father is measureless. He omits nothing that can win
Accordingly the Apostle closes in a doxology: "Now unto our God and Father be glory for ever."
Among the salutations with which the Epistle winds
up, every one must be struck with that which goes in
the name of "those of Cæsar's household." Bishop
Lightfoot has annexed to his Commentary an essay
on this topic, which collects, with his usual skill, the
available information. It was remarked in connection
with ch. i. 12, that Cæsar's household was an immense
establishment, comprehending thousands of persons,
employed in all sorts of functions, and composed
chiefly, either of slaves, or of those who had emerged
from slavery into the condition of freedmen. Indications
"The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit." This is the parting benediction; certainly an appropriate one, for the whole Epistle breathes the same atmosphere. The Epistle would not fail of its effect, if their spirit retained the consciousness of the grace of Christ; if throughout their life they owned its sway, and felt its attraction, its charm, its power to elevate and purify and comfort.
In following the course of thought and feeling
which this letter embodies, we have seen the Apostle
touch various topics. They rise into view as pastoral
care, or friendly feeling, as outward circumstances
suggest them. The demands of Christian friendship,
the responsibilities of the Christian ministry, the
trials of Christian endurance; what is due from an
apostle, or from a Church member; how life and death
are to be confronted; what is to be done about dangers
and faults; how pride and self-will are to be judged
and remedied; how the narrow heart is to be rebuked
and enlarged; how the life of a disciple is to
become luminous and edifying,—in reference to all,
and all alike, he speaks from the same central position,
and with the same fulness of resource. In Christ
So, in one great passage, in the third chapter, catching fire, as it were, from the scorn with which a religion of externals fills him, he breaks forth into a magnificent proclamation of the true Christianity. He celebrates its reality and intensity as life in Christ—Christ known, found, gained—Christ in the righteousness of faith and in the power of resurrection. He depicts vividly the aspiration and endeavour of that life as it continually presses onward from faith to experience and achievement, as it verifies relations to a world unseen, and looks and hastes towards a world to come. Then the wave of thought and feeling subsides; but its force is felt in the last wavelets of loving counsel that ripple to the shore.
One feels that for Paul, who was rich in doctrine, doctrine is after all but the measure of mighty forces which are alive in his own experience. No doctrine, not one, is for the intellect alone: all go out into heart and conscience and life. More than this: he lets us see that, for Christians, Christ Himself is the great abiding means of grace. He is not only the pledge and guarantee that holiness shall be reached: He is Himself our way of reaching it. He is so for the Christian societies, as well as for the individual Christian soul.
One cannot but wonder sometimes in reading Paul's
Ere long they all passed away: Paul beheaded at Rome, as the story goes; the Philippian converts dying out; and the world changing in manners, thought, and speech, in all directions. But the message entrusted to Paul lives still, and awakens the same response in the hearts of Christians of to-day, as it did among the Philippians when first read among them. It still assures us that the highest thing in life has been found,—that it meets us in Him who came among us meek, and having salvation.
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