calls eritheia, and preached for their own biased motives. Eritheia is an interesting word. Originally, it simply meant working for pay. But anyone who works solely for pay works from a low motive. Such a person is out solely for personal benefit. The word, therefore, came to describe someone who was chiefly interested in developing a career, seeking office merely for self-improvement; and so it came to be connected with politics and to mean canvassing for office. It came to describe self-seeking and selfish ambition, which was out to advance itself and did not care to what methods it stooped to achieve its ends. So there were those who preached even harder now that Paul was in prison, for his imprisonment seemed to present them with a heaven-sent opportunity to advance their own influence and prestige and to lessen his.
There is a lesson for us here. Paul knew nothing of personal jealousy or of personal resentment. As long as Jesus Christ was preached, he did not care who received the credit and the honour. He did not care what other preachers said about him, or how unfriendly they were to him, or how contemptuous they were of him, or how they tried to go one better and outdo him. All that mattered was that Christ was preached. All too often, we resent it when someone else gains some distinction or credit which we do not. All too often, we regard someone as an enemy simply for expressing some criticism of us or of our methods. All too often, we think people can do no good because they do not do things in our way. All too often, the intellectuals have no time for the evangelicals, and the evangelicals question the faith of the intellectuals. All too often, those who believe in the evangelism of education have no use for the evangelism of decision, and those who practise the evangelism of decision have no use for those who feel that some other approach will have more lasting effects. Paul is the great example. He lifted the matter beyond all personalities; all that mattered was that Christ was preached.
THE HAPPY ENDING
Philippians 1:19–20
For I know that this will result in my salvation, because of your prayer for me, and because of the generous help the Holy Spirit of Christ gives to me, for it is my eager expectation and my hope that I shall never on any occasion be shamed into silence, but that on every occasion, even as now, I shall speak with all boldness of speech, so that Christ will be glorified in my body, whether by my life or by my death.
IT is Paul’s conviction that the situation in which he finds himself will result in his salvation. Even his imprisonment, and even the almost hostile preaching of his personal enemies, will in the end turn out to be his salvation. What does he mean by his salvation? The word is sōteria, and here there are three possible meanings.
(1) It may mean safety, in which case Paul will be saying that he is quite sure that the matter will end in his release. But that can hardly be the meaning here, since Paul goes on to say that he cannot be sure whether he will live or die.
(2) It may mean his salvation in heaven. In that case, Paul would be saying that his conduct in the opportunity which this situation provides will be his witness in the day of judgment. There is a great truth here. In any situation of opportunity or challenge, we are acting not only for the present time but also for eternity. Our reaction to every situation in time is a witness for or against us in eternity.
(3) But sōteria may have a wider meaning than either of these. It can mean health, general wellbeing. Paul may well be saying that all that is happening to him in this very difficult situation is the best thing for him both in the present and in eternity. ‘God put me in this situation; and God means it, with all its problems and its difficulties, to make for my happiness and usefulness in time, and for my joy and peace in eternity.’
In this situation, Paul knows that he has two great supports.
(1) He has the support of the prayers of his friends. One of the loveliest things in Paul’s letters is the way in which he asks again and again for his friends’ prayers. ‘Beloved,’ he writes to the Thessalonians, ‘pray for us.’ ‘Finally, brothers and sisters,’ he writes, ‘pray for us, so that the word of the Lord may spread rapidly and be glorified everywhere’ (1 Thessalonians 5:25; 2 Thessalonians 3:1). He says to the Corinthians: ‘You must help us by prayer’ (cf. 2 Corinthians 1:11). He writes that he is sure that through Philemon’s prayers he will be given back to his friends (Philemon 22). Before he sets out on his perilous journey to Jerusalem, he writes to the church at Rome asking for their prayers (Romans 15:30–2).
Paul was never too full of his own importance to remember that he needed the prayers of his friends. He never talked to people as if he could do everything and they could do nothing; he always remembered that neither he, nor they, could do anything without the help of God. There is something to be remembered here. When people are in sorrow, one of their greatest comforts is the awareness that others are bearing them to the throne of grace. When they have to face some backbreaking effort or some heartbreaking decision, there is new strength in remembering that others are remembering them before God. When they go into new places and are far from home, they are upheld in the knowledge that the prayers of those who love them are crossing continents to bring them before the throne of grace. We cannot call people our friends unless we pray for them.
(2) Paul knows that he has the support of the Holy Spirit. The presence of the Holy Spirit is the fulfilment of the promise of Jesus that he will be with us to the end of the world.
In all this situation, Paul has one expectation and one hope. The word he uses for expectation is very vivid and unusual; no one uses it before Paul, and he may well have coined it himself. It is apokaradokia. Apo means away from, kara means the head, dokein means to look; and apokaradokia means the eager, intense look, which turns away from everything else to fix on the one object of desire. Paul’s hope is that he will never be shamed into silence, either by cowardice or by a feeling of ineffectiveness. Paul is certain that in Christ he will find courage never to be ashamed of the gospel, and that through Christ his labours will be made effective for all to see. J. B. Lightfoot writes: ‘The right of free speech is the badge, the privilege, of the servant of Christ.’ To speak the truth with boldness is not only the privilege of the servants of Christ; it is also their duty.
So, if Paul courageously and effectively seizes his opportunity, Christ will be glorified in him. It does not matter how things go with him. If he dies, his will be the martyr’s crown; if he lives, his will be the privilege still to preach and to witness for Christ. As Charles Ellicott nobly puts it, Paul is saying: ‘My body will be the theatre in which Christ’s glory is displayed.’ Here is the terrible responsibility of all Christians. Once we have chosen Christ, by our lives and conduct we bring either glory or shame to him. Leaders are judged by their followers; and Christ is judged by us.
IN LIFE AND IN DEATH
Philippians 1:21–6
For living is Christ to me, and death is gain. And yet – what if the continuance of my life in the flesh would produce more fruit for me? What I am to choose is not mine to declare. I am caught between two desires, for I have my desire to strike camp and to be with Christ, which is far better; but for your sake it is more essential for me to remain in this life. And I am confidently certain of this, that I will remain, and I will be with you and beside you all to help you along the road, and to increase the joy of your faith, so that you may have still further grounds for boasting in Christ because of me, when once again I come to visit you.
SINCE Paul was in prison awaiting trial, he had to face the fact that it was quite uncertain whether he would live or die – and to him it made no difference.
‘Living’, he says, in his great phrase, ‘is Christ to me.’ For Paul, Christ had been the beginning of life, for on that day on the Damascus road it was as if he had begun life all over again. Christ had been the continuing of life; there had never been a day when Paul had not lived in his presence, and in the frightening moments Christ had been there to tell him not to be afraid (Acts 18:9–10). Christ was the end of life, for it was towards his eternal presence that life always led. Christ was the inspiration of life; he was the dynamic of life. To Paul, Christ had given the task of life, for it was he who had made him an apostle and sent him out as the evangelist