January 6, this past Wednesday, was the day of Epiphany - the day when the Wise Men brought their gifts to the baby Jesus. Vast sections of the Christian world celebrate Epiphany in a special way. For Eastern Christians especially, this day, not the day which we celebrate as the birth of Jesus, is the occasion for gift giving. More important than that, on the Christian calendar, the season of Epiphany is the season of evangelism and mission. The season when we put the emphasis upon the taking the light of the world into the world. So today I’m beginning a series of sermons on the Book of Philippians. During this Epiphany season and throughout Lent, I want us to live with this book. It’s a sort of manifesto for living and sharing the gospel. It is a call to share and be the light.
So with that setting in mind, in chapter 4 verse 1, Paul tells of what he thinks of the church at Philippi. “My brethren whom I love and long for, my joy and my crown, stand firm in the Lord.” The church at Philippi was Paul’s joy and crown. Of all his churches, it gave him the least trouble, perhaps no trouble at all. And it gave him the most satisfaction. So Philippians is a letter of joy brimming over with expressions of gratitude, affection, and love. Philippians is also a letter desperately needed by the modern church. It provides a picture of the church that takes seriously who she is as partners with Christ in the gospel. A Church who accepts Jesus as Lord and patterns her ministry after Jesus, taking the form of a servant. A Church that is always exalting the Lord and being strengthened by him. A Church that has been given the hope that he who began a good work in you is going to bring it to completion. A Church that has the signs of the fruits of the spirit, living as witnesses to our servant Lord on earth, but knowing that our citizenship is really in heaven.
The vivid story of Paul’s visits to Philippi is told not in this epistle, but in the 16th chapter of Acts. In a few lines in the middle of that chapter, the work of the Holy Spirit guiding the missionary endeavor of Paul is boldly stated. The Holy Spirit had prevented them from going to Bethenia, so they went to Troas, where Paul had a vision. And I’m sure you remember that vision. In a kind of dream sleep, Paul had a vision of a man in Macedonia, and that man was saying, come over and help us. As the pattern of Paul’s life had been established by that vision he had on the Damascus road, so he was not disobedient to this vision, and he headed out with Silos, Timothy, and probably Luke, for Macedonia. Concluding, and this is recorded in verse 10, that God has called us to preach the gospel to them. Now they made their way to Philippi, which was a roman colony, the leading city in the district of Macedonia, and there a church was born.
Do you remember how it happened? Lydia, a woman, a seller of purple silk, was converted. Then her entire household responded to the gospel and were baptized with her. And the church began in Lydia’s house. Dramatic events followed. Paul, in Jesus’ name, freed a slave girl from a spirit which made her a source of gain for her owner. As a result of that, Paul and Silos were arrested, flogged, and thrown in jail. But, again, the spirit did his work. The jail became the setting for another display of the Holy Spirit’s power. The jailor and his entire household were converted and baptized. Now isn’t that a remarkable beginning for a church? And I want you to see it in its total remarkable nature. The conversion of a woman, then her household. The conversion of a Philippian jailor, then his household. Probably the two most unlikely candidates for church membership. Now let me urge you not to forget that. Those who were the most unlikely prospects for hearing the gospel may be waiting for you to share it. That’s the reason I’m so excited about what Methodists are going to be doing throughout the southeast during Lent. And what we’re going to be doing here at ChristChurch. We’re going to be asking at least 500 of you, at least 500 of you to take the names of 5 persons in Memphis who are not presently active in a church in Memphis, and we’re going to ask you to pray by name for those 5 persons, every day during Lent. And then during Holy week, that time from Palm Sunday to Easter Sunday, concluding your work by Good Friday. We’re going to ask you to contact those persons, personally if possible, if not personally, by phone – and share with them the fact that you’ve been praying with them, invite them to be partners with you in the gospel and become a part of the fellowship of that gospel. Isn’t that exciting? I can’t even begin to imagine what might happen, if not only we at ChristChurch do that, but other churches in this city do that. So don’t forget it. Those you think are the most unlikely prospect for hearing the gospel may be waiting for you to share it, and I hope that you’ll be one of those 500. Back to the message.
When the city fathers discovered that they had flogged a Roman citizen, they were not only embarrassed, they were afraid of what Paul might do to them legally. So they begged Paul to leave Philippi, and Paul did. On two other occasions, he returned; therefore, three times he visited Philippi, and he came to love the Philippians. Thus, every time he thinks of his friends there, he’s filled with joy. They are his friends, so the tone of the letter is set in the fact that this is a letter from a friend to his friend. Now listen to the first 11 verses and you follow me as I read.
Paul and Timothy, servants of Jesus Christ, to all the saints in Christ Jesus who are in Philippi with the bishop and the deacons. Got to get the bishop and the deacons in. Grace to you and peace from God our father and the Lord Jesus Christ. I think my God in all of my remembrance of you, always in every prayer of mine for you all, making my prayer with joy. Thankful for your partnership with me in the gospel from the first day until now, and I am sure that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ. It is right for me to feel thus about you all, because I hold you in my heart, for you are all partakers with me of grace, both in my imprisonment and in the defense and confirmation of the gospel. For God is my witness, how I yearn for you all with the affection of Christ Jesus. And it is my prayer that your love may abound more and more with knowledge and all discernment, so that you may approve what is excellent and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruits of righteousness which come through Jesus Christ to the glory and praise of God.
Let’s look at this passage. Three times in the first two verses, Paul speaks the name of his Lord. These references to Christ are the cords binding Paul and Timothy, Epaphroditus and his other companions in that Roman prison, with that little band of Christians, joyful Christians, in Philippi. They’re all participants in the gospel. Now though we may never grasp the full meaning of this, of what it means to be participants in the gospel, three words begin to plumb the depths of what it means. Those words are privilege, promise, and partakers. Privilege, promise, and partakers. Look at these in turn. First, privilege. The privilege that is ours is spelled out in the first two verses and in those three pivotal references to Christ. We are in Christ. This is the state of our being. We are saints in Jesus Christ. We are in relation to Christ, and that relationship is one of servant. Servants of Jesus Christ. Blessings from Christ and from God the Father is ours to receive. See it there. Grace to you, and peace from God our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ. Do you see what this means? We have not simply taken on a new religion, with a new belief system, we have been given a new status in relation to God, and we’ve been given a new life. And now we’re a part of a new community. Get that firmly in mind and rejoice in the sublime privilege that is ours. A new status in relation to God - forgiven and accepted. A new life and a new community.
The gospel, my friends, is universal. That’s the reason I’m a Methodist - because John Wesley had, as his cardinal proclamation of the gospel, the universality of grace and universal salvation. The gospel is universal. The gift of God of himself in Jesus Christ is offered to all. Yet, mark this down, the privilege is an exclusive one. The privilege is an exclusive one. Belonging to those who by faith belong to Jesus Christ. Now I want you to get that clear. This is the universal aspect of the gospel – over against the claim of some, that the gospel is predestined for a few. Never believe that. The gospel is offered to everyone, but keep the perspective clear. The gift is offered to all, but the privilege belongs to those who by faith belong to the Jesus Christ. The new status that is ours is that of being justified, accepted by God. It is in Christ that we are justified. It is in Christ that we are a new people, living a new life. And we’re always in need of keeping the new status, and the new life God gives us together.
This illustration is a simple one, but hopefully it will make the point. A down and outer, you may call him a bum, comes to you in dire need. His dirty, ragged dress is only the outer sign of his destitution and need. He is hungry and sick. You give him a bath and a change of clothing, but that is not enough. He’s undernourished and sick, needing food and a doctor. Perhaps, more, he needs love and friendship, healing of hurts, restoration of dignity, new purpose and meaning. Get the picture? Now in a like manner, we come to Jesus, not in dirty rags, but clothed in the garments of sin, spiritually starving and sickened to death. We’re welcomed by Christ, accepted - bathed in his love and forgiveness – we’re clothed in his grace, received as his children, as though we were sinless, God sees us as righteous in Christ. This is our new status - our privilege. But that isn’t enough, nor is it all. Christ, the great physician, knows that we are sick, so he gives us his spirit, to reside within us - to heal and strengthen, to provide direction, and new life.
Thus, our second word – promise. As participants in the gospel, we have been given a breathtaking promise. See it there in verse 6. And I am sure that he who began a good work in you, will bring it to completion at the day of Christ. Now there are two snares into which we Christians tend to fall – the first is the snare of thinking that being justified by God is all that we need.
Have I told you the story of that little 3-year old girl who fell out of bed about 3:00 in the morning? Her cries awakened her mother in the next room and the mother ran hurriedly to the room, gathered the little child up in her arms and attempted to kiss away the tears. Finally she said to the little girl, honey, what happened? Through snuffy tones as the tears still coursed down her cheek, the little girl said, “mommy, I guess I must have gone to sleep to close to where I got in.”
That’s the way it is with too many of us Christians. We go to sleep to close to where we get in, and this is a dangerous snare. To think that being justified is everything needful. It causes us to be lukewarm Christians, at best – without vitality, and certainly without power to make any significant difference within the world. It is no wonder that persons outside the church wonder what being inside the church makes a difference or not. Unable really to distinguish the difference that is makes, we have accepted justification by grace, and have acted as though that were the end of it. We become self-righteously satisfied, feeling that we have our fire insurance policy and that is all that is needed.
The second snare also gets its share of victims. This is the snare of despondency, into which we sink when the tide of our religious experience ebbs low. It happens to all of us - dryness of spirit. We can’t stay on the mountaintop. We become lifeless. There is a blues song which says, “I’ve got so low, I ain’t even thought about coming up.” No fruit to the spirit seems to be growing in us. We’re battered by one failure after another and feel forsaken by God. Temptation is especially appealing. And we feel that the joy of our salvation will never return. But remember this – God did not start his work within us to abandon us. He does not do things half-measure. We have the promise Christ will complete what he has started. Now there are occasions in life, I believe, when we need to deliberately act out a new beginning. Today may be such an occasion for you. We wander away from the Lord. We lose the joy of our salvation. In Methodist terminology, we do fall from grace.
Did you hear the story of that fellow who was seeking to demonstrate his theological expertise? He questioned an old Methodist layman, is it true that you Methodists really believe in falling from grace? Believe it man, responded the fellow. We not only believe it, we practice it. Now I don’t want to get into a discussion here about eternal security, I’ll do that in another sermon, that’s not the issue. It doesn’t have to be. The issue is not whether we can or can’t lose our salvation. The glorious truth is that we don’t have to lose our salvation. We don’t have to lose it. Let us claim the promise and come again in faith, in commitment, in surrender, in yieldingness. The same kind of faith and commitment and surrender, yieldingness that was ours when we first gave our life to Christ – then we will know that he who began a good work in us will bring it to completion. That’s the promise –and we can stand upon it.
And that leads to the final word – partakers. As participants in the gospel, Paul says in verse 7, you’re all partakers of grace. Look at that entire verse. It is right for me to feel this about you because I hold you in my heart. For you are all partakers with me of grace, both in my imprisonment and in the defense and confirmation of the gospel. Now let’s look at that entire verse and get the full impact of it. It’s right for me to feel this way about you, because you’re all partakers with me of grace - both in my imprisonment and in the defense and confirmation of the gospel. Identity and solidarity are the words that come to me as I look at this verse. Paul is in a Roman prison, far, far, far away from Philippi. Most of the persons who read his letter, probably all of them, had never been, nor would they ever go, to Rome. Yet Paul and his friends in prison were bound together in the trials of his captivity with the toils of those people in Philippi in their Christian witnessing, living, and teaching.
This was a big idea for Paul because it was a big experience. He expressed it in his most graphic way in I Corinthians 15:22. You remember that verse? “For as in Adam all men die, so also in Christ shall all be made alive.” Look clearly at the imagery here – for it’s a very informing, and its one of Paul’s central teaching. Two communities are designated – one, the fallen community, which with Adam we all share, by birth and by choice. Second, the redeemed community, which, with the second Adam, Christ, we share by new birth and choice. Once united to Christ by faith, we are members of a new community which god is creating. And in this new community, there’s neither Jew nor Greek, neither slave nor free, neither male nor female. For all are one in Jesus Christ. One of the amazing and most touching things that I learned while visiting with the Christians in Estonia back in September, was the power of this identity and solidarity Christians have with each other. Alexander Coomb, a great patriarch of the church there in Estonia, now 88 years old, was sent into Siberian exile with a five year sentence, because he refused to give in to the insistence of the governmental authorities that that little band of Methodists be disbanded. So they sent him into Siberian exile. And the little church in Estonia was without leadership, but the spirit always operates with power when Christians are faithful and open to power. The church grew during the five years that Alexander Coomb was in prison. And when I heard his story, from his own lips, and sat in his living room, seeking to appropriate the spirit of this giant of a Christian, I felt as though I was in the presence of a modern Saint Paul. He said his five years in prison were his university for Christ. He called his “isle of patmas.” The church grew, because they had a clear identity of who they were, and they felt a solidarity with their leader who was in prison. This is what Paul was talking about when he said, “you are partakers with me of grace.”
How much richer could it be for all of us, and how much more powerful in its impact upon our community and the world, if that part of our participation in the gospel was fully appropriated in our lives. We are partakers of grace. All of us as Christians and that makes us a new people, called to a new community. Because we belong to Christ, we belong to each other, and our caring and sharing should know no limitation in that fellowship. Privilege, Promise, Partakers. A new status - put right with God through the death of Jesus Christ. A new life – continually renewed by the spirit, as he who began a good work in us, brings it to completion. A new community – partakers of grace, fellowship in the gospel with all those who, through faith, have been made alive in Christ. May God grace our Church. This congregation with that realization – then Christ can say of us, as Paul said of the Church of Philippi, you are participants with me in the gospel, and you are my joy and my crown. So be it. For us.