Tag Archives: Philippians 1:27

Same When I’m Here and When I’m Away

(September 17, 2017) 6:40 AM One year I taught Greek in a foreign setting and asked the principal of the college where I was teaching if I could use closed-book take-home exams. He looked at me like I had ten heads, “You can’t do that,” he said. “Why not?” I asked. “I use them at home all the time.” His reply shocked me: “Because the students will cheat. They will use their textbooks while taking the exam. It’s happened before. I’m sorry, but I just can’t allow that.”

This incident came back to me yesterday as I read Paul’s words in Phil. 1:27: ” … whether or not I’m able to go and see you….” He says basically the same thing in 2:12: “So then, my dear friends, just as you always obeyed me when I was with you, it’s even more important that you obey me while I’m away from you.”

I think Paul’s point is pretty clear. Obedience to the Lord’s commands should not be dependent on Paul’s personal presence. There’s an unhealthy tendency for us to lean too heavily on our teachers. Is this not true? The Philippians must learn to rely more on God than on the presence of any teacher of theirs. Every parent knows exactly what Paul is saying. The purpose of parenting is to give our children roots and then to give them wings, to live out God’s plan for their lives without our supervision and advice. Moreover, every parent knows their own weaknesses and shortcomings. As hard as we may try to lead our children and guide them into maturity, we realize that, in the end, this is a God thing. And so, conscious of our own imperfections, we give our children to God. We don’t know where they will live or what careers they will choose or how many children they will have, but if there’s one thing we do know it’s that long before they belonged to us, they belonged to God. They can trust Him wherever they live and whatever they do and regardless of how many kids they have.

This gives me such comfort. I can entrust my children — and my students — to the care of Jesus. If they follow Him, everything else will fall into place. Perhaps that’s why I enjoy teaching Greek so much. Greek is a tool that (hopefully) equips and empowers our students to think for themselves, to wean themselves from what can often become a slavish dependence on others to understand “what the Bible means.” In so many of our churches, the staff is expected to take full spiritual responsibility for people. Folks, that’s asking too much of them. I wonder if a “Come to us and we’ll tell you what the Bible means” approach is workable let alone biblical. I think what Paul’s doing with the Philippians is essential. He’s transferring spiritual responsibility from leaders to Christ-followers. This is a philosophy of ministry that can be profoundly good for our congregations. Yes, let’s go ahead and teach one another. All well and good. But let’s also be sure that we, as individuals, are in the word ourselves.

The bottom line? People will fail us. Even people we trust. But Jesus is ever faithful. In essence, Paul is saying to the Philippians: Jesus is all you need. No one loves you more. No one will teach you better. He is enough. I may not be able to be with you, but you are never alone.

Philippians 1:27 (politeuesthe)

7:55 AM I am very blessed to live in the countryside. This is the view I get to see most every morning from my front porch as I read my Bible.

I love the view. Like, love it. I’m talking about my Bible. Oh yes, the sunrise is nice too. So is nature. There’s so much to love in life. I love the outdoors. I love humor. I love sarcasm and witty people. I love symmetry and precision and balance and saliency. That’s why I was thrilled to be in Phil. 1:27-30 this morning. I felt like I was a 4-year old locked in a candy store. Thank you, Paul, for making your POINT so clearly. You know, folks, Phil. 1:27 contains the most important verb in the entire letter. (I know you’re cynical. Stay with me.)

Let’s set aside, to begin with, all of the standard translations for a moment. Paul is not telling us to “conduct ourselves” or “live” in a manner worthy of the Gospel. Consider his use of the verb politeuesthe (“live as good citizens”). Philippi was a Roman colony, remember? So it only makes sense that Paul would appeal to the Philippians’ sense of civic duty. Which is exactly what he does with this verb —  the letter’s first imperative. (Told you it was important.) Note the following:

And this:

Today most of us don’t live in real communities so we don’t know what Paul is talking about. But for those of us who live in rural settings … bingo! When I first moved to North Carolina 20 years ago, I joined the local volunteer fire department, like this one.

See the words “Our Duty”? If you were a MAN in Granville County, North Carolina, you joined the VFD. It was as simple as that. It was my civic duty. Didn’t matter that I was pretty lousy at operating the fire hoses. I was so bad that, in fact, I was eventually “promoted” to chaplain. Still, I faithfully attended our monthly meetings, turned out in full gear for all training sessions, and was often the first on the scene of a house fire or a car accident. I think I know a little about what it means to belong to a “community.”

Let me pause to remind everybody I’m pretty apolitical on this blog, intentionally so. Politics, for me, is largely a huge distraction from what God’s called me to do. But here, in this passage, politics can’t be avoided, for the simple reason that Paul is using a political metaphor to make his point. The inhabitants of Philippi were, quite simply, proud of the fact that they lived in a Roman colony. Almost half of the population enjoyed Roman citizenship. Hence Paul’s wordplay. It goes something like this:

Now the only thing in life that really matters is that you live out your citizenship in a manner required by the Gospel of Christ, so that, whether or not I’m able to go and see you in person, I will hear that all of you are standing side by side with one common purpose: to work together for the faith of the Gospel.

The use of this political metaphor is, as Fee reminds us, “a brilliant stroke” (p. 78). The “civic” responsibilities Paul has in mind are the duties incumbent upon all of us as citizens of heaven (see 3:20). This helps untangle us from the God and Country narrative that so often entraps us and sets God free to be God instead of just another idol we worship along with Caesar. It lends restraint when declaring our political views as “Christian” because sometimes my political allegiances sound suspiciously like the American Dream rather than like the Gospel Commission. The Gospel for Paul is ultimately about loyalty. Which “god” gets my allegiance? The state or the Gospel? Our allegiance is not to Caesar Kurios (Lord Caesar) but to Iesous Kurios (Lord Jesus), before whom every knee will one day bow, including those of the emperor himself. We are citizens of the kingdom of heaven. This is our place. These are our people. This is our life. Paul is asking us to rethink our priorities. Get a handle on who we are. On what we value. On how we want to live. Young Christian, it’s time to live for the Gospel. Retiree, it’s time to place the Gospel first. Greek prof, a worthy life involves living for others as Christ loved them, sharing with them the ridiculous mercy God has poured out on you. This is our high calling as citizens of heaven. God makes us worthy of the Gospel of Christ as we desire His kingdom above everything else. No early citizenship could ever be more important than our heavenly citizenship. And guess what — we have access to this kingdom now: love, kindness, sacrifice, patience in the midst of persecution, joy in the midst of sorrow, self-control.

This was the high calling of every Philippian who claimed the name of Jesus, and it’s my calling too, and yours.