Philippians 2:1-30  Converted, Convicted and Committed: Hold men like him in high regard!

I recently read a tremendous article I want to share extracts from it with you by James Eglinton:

Rev. Michael Curry's royal wedding sermon succeeded in capturing the public imagination in a way that few had expected. For many Brits, the royal wedding's most unexpected outcome was that a sermon, of all things, could spark a national conversation on race. "Who would have thought," the response went, "that preaching could actually be engaging?"

T. David Gordon's Why Johnny Can't Preach has put forward that current day preaching is not particularly good, and that most churchgoers do not expect it to be. In his argument, the typical 21st-century sermon is a rambling, inarticulate, and unsuccessful attempt to say something that is somehow connected to the Bible.

A century ago, the Dutch Reformed theologian Herman Bavinck (1854–1921)—professor of dogmatics at the Theological School in Kampen and the Free University of Amsterdam and author of the widely read Reformed Dogmatics—grappled with a similarly negative set of views on preaching.

During Bavinck's lifetime, the Netherlands underwent a process of rapid secularisation. Six years before his birth, a new liberal constitution had turned a society previously dominated by the mainline Dutch Reformed Church into a secular liberal state. Bavinck's native environment was one where rival outlooks jostled for space and influence in the public domain. On the ground, this meant a proliferation of public voices speaking via different media. Political parties and newspapers emerged, state education was reimagined, and new kinds of public speakers—secular public intellectuals, novelists, and stand-up comedians—came to the fore.

Reflecting on this sudden abundance of public voices, Bavinck once wrote that, "In the present day there are more preachers outside than inside the church." Faced with this flood of competition, Bavinck did not think that his period's typical sermon fared well.

Bavinck spoke of "Sleepy John." "Do not seek eloquence," Bavinck wrote, "in those 'Sleepy John' types, from those who sell tolerance and neutrality, those who do not know how to be hot or cold. They know no passion, no ardency, no enthusiasm or inspiration." In Eloquence, Bavinck's exhortation not to be a Sleepy John is itself a telling critique of the way the modern Dutch had come to view themselves and their world.

Let the heart's passion come to the word, and eloquence will be born. And what could not touch our hearts? Do we, along with the whole creation, not feel? Are we not connected to all things? Do we not belong at once to both heaven and earth? Our heart is the melting pot in which all things come together; it is the mirror whereupon all things are reflected. Impressions, perceptions, and emotions come at us from every side. We can be reached by the melodies of angels and the howl of demons, by creation's song and creature's sigh. … And if our heart becomes so affected, so touched … and thus is awoken in passion, regardless of which one (love, hate, sorrow, compassion, indignation, shock, fear, angst, terror), if our conscience is touched and the waves of the life of the soul are set heaving, if our spirit is driven, and is set in motion and delight, then the real source of eloquence is unlocked within us. Deep, inner feeling is the principle of oratory; it is the soul's sensitivity to be jarred and aghast.

Insofar as it meant a person could barely be moved to speak or act—even when provoked by human suffering, the grandeur of creation, the power of the gospel, or the glory of God—Bavinck believed the spirit of his age was inimical to good preaching. The average preacher in Bavinck's day might have had correct grammar and known the classics, but he still could not preach the gospel well because—unlike Jesus, who was "regularly moved with compassion"—he did not allow the creation or the Creator to stir his inner life.

The impression made by [his] words was exceptional. The king and all who surrounded him, the whole company, shuddered. The preacher, who was also dumbfounded by the general emotion, was silent for a moment, and covered his face with his hands.

For all its impact on Twitter, the royal wedding sermon, it seems, did not make the same impression on its immediate hearers. Aristocrats smirked and celebrities smiled, but no-one fell silent, their hands masking suddenly ashen faces. As an engaging address by a man who evidently believes his message, however, it did take a secular public by surprise, moving modern people—however fleetingly—whose prior assumption had been that preaching could not do such a thing.

 

and hold men like him in high regard; because he came close to death for the work of Christ risking his life to complete what was deficient in your service to me.

Robert Murray McCheyne, a pastor whose life marked so many since his passing in the early 1800's at the age of 30, once wrote in his journal words that describe Epaphroditus . . . and by the grace of God – you and me.  He wrote, Live so as to be missed.  Live so as to be missed.

 

By becoming a fellow laborer in our common mission and a fellow soldier with common courage to represent Christ and His gospel.

 

 By becoming a messenger boy whose great delight is in serving someone; talking about someone else; living for someone else.

 

 By risking all that you are – for all that Christ is – for all that Christ's church can become.

 

Are you Converted?

Notice the first term – verse 25 – where Paul calls Epaphroditus, "my brother".  This kind of comradery was unknown in Paul's world . . . this would have been striking to a first century audience.

The world of Paul was clearly divided between Greeks and Romans, Jews and Gentiles. You had citizens and you had slaves; you had aristocrats and you had peasants. There was nothing in Paul's world of brotherhood.

Here's Paul – a thoroughbred Jew . . . Timothy, we learned in our last study – Paul's son in the faith – was a mixed breed – half-Jew, half-Gentile; and Epaphroditus didn't have a drop of Jewish blood in his veins – he was thoroughly Gentile – in fact, so pagan was the family from which he came, he was named Epaphroditus in honor of Aphrodite, the goddess of passion and pleasure.

At one point in his life, as an unconverted, proud Pharisee, the Apostle Paul would have referred to Epaphroditus as a Gentile dog. Now – he's my brother!

You see, into this world comes the gospel of Jesus Christ and you have men and women of every race and every background and every strata of society converted and transformed and one of the revolutionary evidences is that without any sort of external policy or cultural pressure . . . the believer intuitively understands that we, in the faith, are family.

Paul considers himself a brother to a converted Gentile with a pagan past . . . and a somewhat awkward name.  Epaphroditus . . . is my brother . . . because of the gospel and our common faith in Christ.

Paul goes even further – notice next, Epaphroditus is my brother, and fellow worker.

 

 

Are you Convinced?

Are you a man woman of Conviction?

The term is sunergos, which gives us our word, synergy.  fellow worker.

Not only was there a common bond in the gospel, they share a common mission.

Dr. Harry Ironsides, the former pastor of Moody Church once saw a church sign – which, by the way can be very interesting to read. I subscribe to a church leader's magazine that has a picture of what they call the Sign of the Week. Some of them are really interesting:

One church sign read: If evolution is true, why do mothers still only have two hands?

Another church sign sent a mixed message – it read, "We love hurting people". This isn't quite what they wanted to say.

Another church sign read, "Having trouble sleeping? We have sermons – come listen to one."

I didn't like that one.

One rural church sign read: Welcome: Whoever stole our church air conditioners, you'll need them where you're going.  But, welcome.

Back to Dr. Harry Ironside – he was concerned about the church focusing only on itself . . . without any real desire to reach the lost or even defend their faith – but simply satisfied by themselves. In front of their meeting place he noticed that they'd hung up a sign that read: Jesus Only. A few days later, Ironside wrote, the wind blew away the first few letters so that it now read "Us Only."

It's just us . . . and it's all about us only.

 

By becoming a fellow laborer in our common mission and a fellow soldier with common courage to represent Christ and His gospel.

By becoming a messenger boy whose great delight is in serving someone; talking about someone else; living for someone else.

If the church at Philippi had only cared about themselves, they would have never cared to send money to the Apostle Paul who at this very moment is in desperate need of funding and genuine partnership in the ministry.

And Paul effectively says, "Epaphroditus, my brother and my fellow-worker has brought me both."

Finally, Paul refers to this man in verse 25 as his fellow soldier.

The word he uses makes it clear that Epaphroditus not only shares with Paul a common bond and a common mission, but they also share common courage.

He shows up at Rome, having risked his life by carrying quite a bit of money, and now identifies publically with a man incarcerated . . . facing a capital crime.

Epaphroditus literally places himself directly in the line of fire.

In fact, the word Paul uses here for soldier, is the same word to describe the Roman soldiers to whom he happens to be chained at the wrist; and it's this same word Paul uses for Epaphroditus (stratiotes) – fellow soldier.

As if to say, "I am bound to these Roman soldiers by chains of iron, but I praise God that I'm bound to a loyal, faithful soldier by chains of gospel mission and family love."

Several New Testament scholars speculate - and I would throw my hat in the ring with them – that the Apostle Paul is actually anticipating some criticism back in Philippi thinking that perhaps Epaphroditus cut short his mission and quit his task and abandoned Paul so that he could retreat home to safety.

I mean it just got too hot for him in Rome.  Hey, did you hear Epaphroditus is back!  So soon?  Yea!  I wonder why?  He probably couldn't take it, I guess he quit.  Who would have thought?!

You need to understand that these terms are carefully selected by Paul to support the fact that Epaphroditus has returned, at Paul's command – Paul is effectively defending the reputation of Epaphroditus.  Epaphroditus wasn't lazy . . . he wasn't difficult . . . he didn't quit, no;  he's my brother, my fellow worker  my fellow soldier.

He was also your messenger.

The word messenger is from apostle and Paul uses it, not to suggest that Epaphroditus is officially one of the commissioned apostles by our Lord; the word is used more broadly at times to refer to someone sent as an envoy – sent on a special commission (Acts 14:14; 2 Corinthians 8:23).

Paul could have used any number of terms to denote Epaphroditus' faithful service – but Paul used apostolos to add even more gravity to the faithful character of this man.

Paul implicitly ranks Epaphroditus with himself.

In other words, don't start throwing mud at him . . . treat him like you would treat a special envoy.

Paul adds another word, just in case they're a little slow back at the church in Philippi when the letter is read in the assembly – notice – your messenger and minister to my needs.

The word minister – leitourgos  was a person in the ancient days of the Greek city-states who loved their city so much that at their own expense, they supported great civic events – they might have supported their embassy – or paid for the training of their Olympic champions – or built a warship and paid their sailors. These men were such incredible benefactors of their city, they were known as leitourgoi – they were the ministers.

 

 

 

Are you Committed?

Are you a man or woman of Commitment?

 By risking all that you are – for all that Christ is – for all that Christ's church can become.

 

26. Because he was longing for you all and was distressed because you had heard he was sick.

He left because he got sick. Well, we all get sick, Paul . . . how sick was he?

Notice verse 27. For indeed he was sick to the point of death. You could woodenly translate this – he was next door neighbor to death. We might say, "He was at death's door".xiii

In other words, he didn't just pick up a little cold here in Rome . . . he didn't just have some sort of allergic reaction to homemade Italian spaghetti.

But he was evidently sick long enough for the news to travel back to Philippi and then back again to Rome – which would have taken at least 3-4 months.

And it greatly distressed Epaphroditus because he didn't want them to worry about him.

By the way, that's worth pondering. That's rare humility.

He was distressed that he might have caused them distress.

Look down at verse 30 where Paul again writes – he came close to death for the work of Christ – literally, because of the work of Christ.

The word Paul uses here for risking his life was a word that had been used for centuries. It was found in one papyri scroll that referred to someone risking their life in order to represent a friend in a court case before the emperor. It was used later of merchants who risked their lives to make their fortunes; it was also used of a gladiator in the arena who risked his life in the arena.xxi

These were the parabolani – the gamblers. That's the root word Paul uses here.

In A.D. 252, a plague broke out in Carthage. The unbelievers were terrified and fled – leaving behind their own sick and dying family members. Cyprian, the church leader in Carthage gathered his congregation together and they agreed to bury the dead and nurse the sick – at the risk of their own lives. As a result, they rescued untold numbers of people from death and they saved the city from desolation.xxii

They were called the parabolani – a term which now granted great honor to those with reckless courage literally willing to throw their lives away to serve another.

Paul is giving Epaphroditus the highest commendation – he is one of the parabolani – he is one who gambled his life for the sake of the gospel.

He risked everything for Christ.

No wonder Paul writes here in verse 29, hold men like him in high regard . . . here's your model – of courage and humility.

 

Robert Murray McCheyne, a pastor whose life marked so many since his passing in the early 1800's at the age of 30, once wrote in his journal words that describe Epaphroditus . . . and by the grace of God – you and me.

He wrote, Live so as to be missed.