16b Although the main point of Paul’s sentence has been reached with the preceding participial phrase, the sentence itself has not yet come to an end. In light of the eschatological context of Dan 12:3, whose language Paul has just echoed, he concludes the sentence on an eschatological note, one of the many that permeate the letter.35 But this final phrase is so abrupt, and so out of character with what has preceded, that one is quite startled by it.36 For rather than speaking directly about their own eschatological triumph, he concludes the purpose clause that began in v. 15 on what appears to be a personal note regarding his own ministry: (literally) “for my grounds for boasting/glorying for the day of Christ,”37 language that recalls their boasting in 1:26 and his prayer in 1:10. Most likely the sentence has gotten away from him a bit, and this final phrase is to be understood primarily in response to their “shining as lights in the world as they hold firm the word of life” in Philippi. Both prepositions are thus to be understood as telic38: first, the imperative itself—and their heeding it, of course—is “with a view to” Paul’s having grounds for eschatological “boasting/glorying,”39 all of which, second, has “the day of Christ” as its goal.40 He will reserve his “glorying” for the day when it counts, when they, along with others, become his “crown of boasting” (1 Thess 2:19; cf. Phil 4:1). To which Paul then appends a final word that seems even more surprising, “that I have not run in vain, nor labored in vain.”

As noted, the most likely reason for all of this is transitional; that is, just as he brought them into the picture in 1:25–26 (at the conclusion of “my affairs”), and with some of the same language, he brings this section about “your affairs” to conclusion by bringing himself back into the picture. But why in this way? one wonders. The answer to which lies in the combination of (a) Paul’s yearning for his friends and (b) the very close connection he sees between who they are (and what they do) and his own life in Christ. He thus yearns for them in part because, as his converts, their steadfast loyalty to Christ also means that his own life has counted for something. The final word, therefore, is not a word of doubt,41 but an affirmation: by their heeding these words he will have plenty of cause for “boasting” when they stand together before Christ at his Parousia; indeed, they will be primary evidence that he had “neither run in vain nor labored in vain.”42

As noted on 1:26, “boasting” has nothing to do with what Paul has done, but with what Christ has wrought through him (as Rom 15:18 makes clear; cf. 1 Cor 15:10). When used positively, as here, “boasting” points to the ground of one’s confidence and trust, Christ himself, in whom one therefore “glories.” Thus Paul concludes his imperative with the sheer glory that he and they will experience together in the presence of Christ43—they because of his ministry among them that brought them to that glory; he because his “glorying” in them, as he and they are in Christ’s presence together, is but another way of expressing his “boast in the Lord” (1 Cor 1:31; 2 Cor 10:17).

The appended clause, “that I have neither run in vain nor labored in vain,” is vintage Paul, who here combines into one clause what appear separately elsewhere in all sorts of contexts.44 The two verbs, taken from the games and from manual labor45 respectively, are among his favorite images for ministry. On the one hand, life in Christ has the features of a race, with the eschatological prize awaiting those who finish (see 3:14); on the other hand, and more often in Paul, it involves “labor”; one “works hard in the Lord,”46 just as the tent maker does in the shop.47 Paul has invested his whole Christian life in seeing that others also obtain the prize for such running, or realize the fruit of such labor. Hence, at issue for him is not his own personal “prize”; for him that prize will consist primarily in having his “beloved” Philippians (and others) there with him (cf. 4:1).48

Thus, based on their long-time friendship, this clause serves as a final incentive for them to “obey by working out their salvation while he is absent from them.” In this letter it is included especially for those whose vision of their certain future has diminished in some way. The question as to whether it could really be in vain, of course, is much debated. On the basis of what Paul says here (vv. 17–18) and elsewhere, the answer seems to be twofold. On the one hand, such an expression as this only makes sense if such a potential really exists; on the other hand, Paul has such confidence in God regarding his converts that it would be unthinkable to him that the potential would ever be realized. Which leads us to the final sentences in this present argument.

17 Having brought his relationship with them back into the picture at the end of v. 16, and apparently as a general response49 to his confidence in their obedience which will mean that he has not labored in vain, Paul concludes this long appeal regarding “your affairs” by putting that relationship into its positive perspective. The precise nature of that perspective, however, is not at all easy to determine, since it takes the form of a conditional sentence, whose protasis (the “if” clause) is expressed with a striking shift of images and whose apodosis returns to the theme of joy. Thus, in a sentence which was undoubtedly perfectly clear to Paul and probably reasonably understandable to the Philippians as they heard it read, the distance of time and circumstances has left us to wonder both what the imagery denotes and how the sentence fits into the letter.50

Using metaphors drawn directly from the sacrificial system of the OT,51 Paul says (literally), “but if indeed I am being poured out as a drink offering at the sacrifice and service of your faith.” The imagery itself is much clearer than its points of application. Pictured is the Levitical priest, whose “service”52 included the offering of a sacrificed animal,53 and often a grain offering accompanied by a “drink offering” of wine poured out in the sanctuary (Num 28:7). In the present application Paul is pictured as the drink offering and the Philippians (apparently) as “serving” by offering the sacrifice, which has to do with their faith in some way. But none of this is easy to decipher, in part because of the context and in part because Paul’s use of sacrificial imagery is so flexible that usage elsewhere is of little or no help here.54

In light of what is assumed to be the Greco-Roman background of this metaphor, plus the similar usage in 2 Tim 4:6, “drink offering” is most often considered to be a metaphor for Paul’s death (or martyrdom).55 Thus it is usually assumed, or explicitly stated, that the imagery is that of “blood” being poured out over the sacrifice.56 But there is nothing inherent in the imagery to demand this view;57 and there are significant grammatical and contextual reasons to doubt it here. The grammar has to do with the nature of the conditional sentence, which in this case is a “first class” or “real” condition. That is, it does not express supposition, either more or less probable,58 nor does it likely express concession in this case,59 as though he were conceding that his imprisonment might lead to death. The kai that goes with the “if” is almost certainly intensive, heightening the actuality. Thus Paul intends: “if indeed, as is the case, I am currently being poured out.”

Two contextual matters seem decisive. First, as to the larger context of the letter, Paul nowhere suggests (or even hints) that he expects his imprisonment to end in death. Quite the opposite. He might yearn that it did (1:23), but in fact he expects that he will be vindicated (1:19–20), and that out of (divine) necessity he will live (1:24) and return to see them again (1:25–26); indeed, at the end of the very next paragraph (2:24) he affirms that “I am persuaded in the Lord that I myself will come soon.” These data make the grammatical issue all the more significant, since in light of what he expresses clearly (and not by metaphor), had he here intended to allude to the possibility of martyrdom, one should have expected some kind of suppositional conditional sentence.

Second, in terms of immediate context, he has just said that he and they are experiencing “the same struggle” (1:30); now he images his drink offering as in close association with their “sacrifice.” Since it is altogether unlikely that he is speaking of their martyrdom, as most interpreters recognize,60 then it is equally unlikely, given what he says elsewhere in the letter, that by this metaphor he intends to speak about his.

But if not, then what? One cannot be certain here, but since this paragraph serves with 1:27–30 as an inclusio (“bracket”), the most likely option is that the metaphor refers to the present suffering (in his case, by imprisonment) mentioned in 1:30. Thus he is suggesting that his imprisonment, besides being a “drink offering” to the Lord, is to be understood as his part of their common suffering,61 the “drink offering” poured out in conjunction with62 their “sacrifice.”

Unfortunately, the Philippian side of the imagery is equally uncertain. Had Paul said only “sacrifice,” this would undoubtedly point to them as the sacrifice. But the addition, “and service,”63 with the qualifier “of your faith,” points to them as those who are “ministering,”64 but doing so in the context of sacrifice that comes as the direct result of their “faith.”65 In light of his use of sacrificial imagery again in 4:18 to refer to their gift to him, the present usage may very well refer to their gift as well.66 But what is less clear in this case is how his imprisonment might be the “drink offering” poured out in conjunction with their sacrificial gift. Thus, it seems most likely, but by no means certain, that both sides of the imagery recall 1:29–30, that God has “graced” them not only to “believe” in Christ, but also to suffer for his sake. Paul’s present imprisonment serves as the “drink offering,” which accompanies their own suffering in behalf of Christ.

But how, then, does this connect with v. 16? That is, how does this metaphorical reference to their common suffering serve as response to their obedience to these injunctions serving as eschatological evidence that he has not served Christ in vain? The logic seems to be that, rather than his having run in vain, which in fact is unthinkable, his present suffering, which is also on their behalf in the midst of their own suffering, presents the real picture of their relationship. What is missing is an implied middle step, which on this view would go something like this: “I expect you to be my grounds for boasting at the Parousia, evidence that I have not labored in vain. (And presently my labor includes imprisonment, as yours does suffering in Philippi.) But if indeed my present struggle represents a kind of drink offering to go along with your own suffering on behalf of the gospel, then I rejoice over that.”

In any case, he says, “if indeed this is the case” (= if my suffering is to be understood in conjunction with yours—and the condition is a real one), then that too is cause for joy. So he rejoices in prayer and thanksgiving as he recalls their faith (fulness) in the gospel (1:4); he rejoices over the advance of the gospel in Rome resulting from his imprisonment, even by those who do so out of “selfish ambition” (1:18a); he will yet rejoice as he and his gospel are vindicated at his forthcoming trial (1:18b); he wants that joy to be brought to its full measure by their “obedience” to the present appeal (2:2); and now he insists on rejoicing in the midst of their mutual suffering for Christ. “I rejoice,” all on my own, as it were, he says first; then he adds “and I rejoice with all of you as well.”67

18 This final sentence is an invitation for them to reciprocate. In the same way, he adds, “you also rejoice (on your own, as it were) and then join with me in rejoicing together.” Although for some this has created an awkward redundancy, very likely it is probably an especially significant moment with regard to this theme in the letter. To this point every mention of “joy,” except in 1:25, has had to do with Paul himself.68 With this imperative a subtle, but noticeable, shift toward them takes place.69 What began in 1:25 as concern for their “progress and joy regarding the faith” is now put into the form of an imperative, an imperative that will recur at further points in the rest of the letter;70 significantly, its first occurrence (1) is totally intertwined with Paul’s joy, and (2) is found in the context of rejoicing in the midst of suffering and opposition.

Here, then, is the most likely reason for this otherwise unusual conclusion to the long appeal of 1:27–2:18. Paul has already modeled joy in the face of opposition and suffering (1:18); his concern for them is both with their “progress” and their joy regarding the gospel. Now, in anticipation of the renewal of their joy at the coming of Epaphroditus (2:28) and the imperative to “rejoice in the Lord (always)” that frames the final exhortation (3:1; 4:4), Paul begins by linking that imperative to his own joy, both in the context of present suffering and in the mutuality of that suffering. Just as they are in this thing together, as far as the gospel (1:5, etc.) and suffering for Christ (1:29–30) are concerned, so too he wants them to share his joy in the advance of the gospel, no matter what the present circumstances. It is perhaps noteworthy, therefore, that this intentional redundancy occurs in this case hard on the heels of an explicit reminder of his and their mutual eschatological certainty (v. 16); likewise the imperatives of 3:1 and 4:4 frame an appeal that has steadfastness regarding their future orientation as an integral part (3:11–15, 19–21).

Thus, the double repetition, even though it appears unnecessarily redundant, makes perfectly good sense both in the context of the whole letter and at this point in the “argument.” What Paul is emphasizing in each case is that, first, he and they rejoice on their own accounts for the privilege of serving the gospel, even in the midst of great adversity, and second that they do so mutually, as they have done so much else mutually.

Joy in suffering, it should finally be noted, is not “delight in feeling badly”; rather it is predicated on the unshakable foundation of the work of Christ, both past and future. Joy has nothing to do with circumstances, but everything to do with one’s place in Christ. And this is probably how we are to understand the “missing link” between vv. 16 and 17. Having just expressed their eschatological future in terms of their being his ground for “glorying” (in Christ, is assumed) with an eye toward the coming Day of Christ, he concludes that sentence with a motivational word: that Paul will not have run in vain. But on this matter he has no real doubt, as these final sentences make clear. They are in this thing together; and he does not expect to have labored in vain. On the contrary, his and their life in Christ are too closely bound up together, both in believing and in suffering, for there to be any doubt about the future. Hence the final word is one of joy: let joy abound, he says, since mine already does, even in this Roman confinement. And on this note the “letter of exhortation” concludes momentarily, as he returns to the matters that have to do with the “letter of friendship.”

We need to note in conclusion, however, that this final note is not merely an expression of Christian piety, but of genuine concern for the Philippians in their present circumstances. He concluded the section—1:12–26, about “his affairs”—on the note of their “progress in the faith (the gospel)” and their joy in his coming to them again; now he concludes this section, which has had their “progress” in the gospel as its primary concern, on the same note of joy. From here he returns to some final matters of chronology about their and his affairs, in terms of three “comings” from Rome to Philippi (Epaphroditus’s now, Timothy’s very soon, and his own as soon as he can), after which he will return to a final word about their situation and the progress of the gospel in Philippi (3:1–4:3). That section is framed by the imperative, “rejoice in the Lord” (3:1; 4:4), which suggests that at issue is not simply their joy as such, but that they find their joy in the Lord, so that they will not need to look elsewhere.

Because of the extremely complex nature of this paragraph—including its grammar, the unusually high incidence of intertextuality, and the role of the metaphors in v. 17—one can easily lose sight of the forest for the trees. But there are some significant theological points that need to be noted at the end. First, one must not lose sight of the fact that everything else that is said is brought to bear on the opening imperative: “Do all things without grumblings and disputings.” Because so many of us are prone to such behavior, it is easy to dismiss this as a very “mundane” matter; but the very fact that Paul spends so much energy giving biblical and theological support to it suggests otherwise. This is spoken in the context of their—and our—being God’s children in a very fallen, twisted world. Our corporate behavior, especially as that is reflected in our attitudes toward one another, goes a long way in determining how effectively we “hold firm the word of life” in such a world. Thus, evangelism is the bottom line, and internal bickering among the people of God is thoroughly counter-productive activity.

Second, Paul’s use of the “story” of Israel (in this case, its failure) as his way of including the Philippians as God’s people—indeed, as the eschatological continuity of his people—says much about our own place in God’s story. Again, the concern is with our behavior—with our “succeeding” where Israel failed. The underlying theology in all of this is God’s own character, as that is now reflected in his children who bear his likeness as we live out the life of the future in the present age. Only as we reflect God’s own likeness will our evangelism be worth anything at all, both in terms of its aim and of its being successful.

Third, although not as directly related to vv. 14–16 as it is to the whole of the section (from 1:27), the return to the leitmotif of “joy” in the midst of “suffering” must not be missed. Neither “plastic joy” nor “trumped up suffering” will do. Suffering for Paul is ultimately a theological matter; it has to do with our relationship with Christ and our unyielding commitment to the gospel in our present, very pagan world—which is neither a “friend to grace” nor sympathetic to our confession that only Jesus is Lord. Suffering for its own sake will not do; and suffering because “we are right, let the rest be damned” has nothing to do with this text nor with the Christian faith. The joy comes from our relationship with Christ and with one another in Christ, as well as from our eschatological certainty; the suffering must be the direct result of trying to bring others in on the joy, or it deflects from Christ’s suffering. Only so can we also rejoice in one another’s suffering—as evidence that the proper “sacrifices” are being offered up to God.

IV. WHAT’S NEXT—REGARDING PAUL’S AND THEIR AFFAIRS (2:19–30)

Having informed the Philippians about “his affairs” (as “reflections on imprisonment,” 1:12–26) and appealed to them regarding “their affairs” (that they live worthy of the gospel, 1:27–2:18), Paul now proceeds to “what’s next.” And “what’s next” has to do with visits to Philippi1 (Timothy’s [vv. 19–23]; his own [24]; and Epaphroditus’s [25–30]), which from the point of view of his writing the letter are all future, but from that of their reading it are partly future (vv. 19–24) and partly completed (vv. 25–30).

After the exalted language of the Christ story in 2:6–11 and the striking metaphors in 2:14–18 by which this was applied to the Philippians’ situation, it is easy to view this material as mundane—which in a sense it is—and to neglect it as of little import, which it is not. After all, this is the stuff of which real letters are made, even though we are not quite used to that in Paul! On the other hand, neither should we make too much of it, as some have done, and thus give it greater significance than Paul intends. What this section does for us is to put all kinds of things into perspective as to the reasons for the letter.

The material falls into two clear parts. First (vv. 19–24), he hopes to send Timothy as soon as the outcome of his imprisonment has been resolved.2 Expecting it to go in his favor, he is “persuaded in the Lord” that he himself will come to them “shortly.” He expects to hear back from Timothy, however, before he comes (v. 19b). Meanwhile, second (vv. 25–30), out of kindness to them, he has sent the now-recovered Epaphroditus on ahead with this letter. Typically for Paul, both paragraphs also serve as “letters of commendation”3—for two brothers who scarcely need such.

All of this is rather straightforward.4 The only real surprise is that he should send Timothy at all, given Epaphroditus’ return and that Paul hopes himself to come as soon as possible. Furthermore, why should he “commend” Epaphroditus to them, who is one of their own? And why this order of the two paragraphs, since they are chronologically in reverse? With the answers to these questions lie some keys to the occasion and purpose of our letter.

We take the chronological matter first, since that will put several things into perspective. To this point, the content of the letter has followed a discernible chronological scheme:5 Epaphroditus’s arrival with their gift and news from Philippi, reflected in the thanksgiving and prayer, is the starting point, followed by Paul’s reflections on his imprisonment (“my [present] affairs,” 1:12–26) and his appeal regarding their present situation, to stand firm in the midst of suffering and be of one mind in doing so (1:27–2:18). In terms of chronology, therefore, the coming of Epaphroditus with this letter should come next; but in terms of the “logic” of the letter the proposed sending of Timothy and the assurance of his own visit come next, followed by the commendation of Epaphroditus.

The “logic” is to be found in the repetition in the first paragraph of the phrase “your affairs” (vv. 19 and 20) from 1:27, and “my affairs” (v. 23), recalling 1:12.6 In addition Paul also echoes the language—and concern—of “one’s own interests” from 2:4, whose opposite now is not “the interests of others,” but “the interests of Jesus Christ” (v. 21) which in fact proves to be the theological undergirding of the former—one seeks “the interests of Jesus Christ” when one “looks out for the interests of others,” instead of “one’s own.” Thus, vv. 19–24 logically follow 1:27–2:18 by taking up his concern about “their affairs,” and tying that to Timothy’s proposed visit. What drives Paul to write this letter is twofold: thanksgiving for the gift (which, of course, could have been sent orally with Epaphroditus) and the situation in Philippi. Although Paul’s response to the latter does not suggest serious problems—yet—they are serious enough to warrant this “pre-arrival” letter. Which in turn explains this double sending of Epaphroditus and Timothy, and in that chronological order, before he comes himself.7

First, he “must” send Epaphroditus now, because he owes that to them out of friendship—between him and them, and between them and Epaphroditus. But it also gives him opportunity to send this letter in advance. Second, Timothy will come a little later, because he also owes that to them out of friendship—his with them (to let them know the outcome, which he could not wait to find out before sending Epaphroditus), and theirs with him (so as to be strengthened and to work on the issues in 1:27–2:18 before he comes; see on v. 19). But the latter concern is also—especially—for the sake of the gospel in Philippi, which is what causes the Timothy material to come immediately after 1:27–2:18 and before the Epaphroditus material.

Paul’s chief concern, and the ultimate reason for this letter, is the progress of the gospel in Philippi. This is what he reminds them of in the thanksgiving; this is what he wants them to know about his own situation, that it is advancing the gospel in Rome even in the face of opposition; and this is what he wants to learn about them (1:27), that they are walking “worthy of the gospel” in the face of opposition and suffering in Philippi (2:14–16). Timothy’s reason for coming, therefore, besides encouragement (v. 20) and informing them about the outcome of “Paul’s affairs” (v. 23), is to “cheer Paul” (v. 19) by reporting back about their situation (addressed in 1:27–2:18 and hopefully “cured” by this letter before Timothy arrives), and to do so before Paul himself comes (v. 24).

This, then, is why he will send Timothy soon, to see how they are doing, both in their suffering and in holding firm the gospel in the unity of the Spirit. In this regard, both paragraphs seem to be written so as to present these two brothers as further models: Timothy as one whom they know to live for the sake of Christ, and thus for the concerns of others; Epaphroditus, as one who in his suffering for Christ that brought him near death did not flag in doing the “work of Christ.”8

It needs only to be pointed out once again how much the triangular concern that drives the whole letter (between him and them and Christ [and the gospel]) is at work here as well.

A. TIMOTHY AND PAUL TO COME LATER (2:19–24)

19I hope in the Lord Jesus9 to send Timothy to you soon, that I also may be cheered when I receive news about you. 20I have no one else like him, who takes a genuine interest in your welfare. 21For [all are looking] out for [their]10 own interests, not those of Jesus Christ.11 22But you know that Timothy has proved himself, because as a son with his father he has served with me in the work of the gospel. 23I hope, therefore, to send him as soon as I see how things go with me. 24And I am confident in the Lord that I myself will come12 soon.

Given the place of this paragraph in the “logic” of the letter, it remains to show how it works out. Verse 19 sets out the basic datum and its reason—a proposed visit by Timothy, which turns out to be primarily for Paul’s sake. He hopes to be “cheered” by (further) news about “your affairs,” presumably whether his letter has had any effect. But this needs explanation, so vv. 20–22 offer a twofold justification for the sending of Timothy, which turns out to be only partly justification for doing so at all, and mostly justification for sending Timothy. Thus v. 20 indicates why only Timothy will do, to which Paul appends a surprising word of contrast (v. 21), explaining that all are not like Timothy. He then (v. 22) reminds them of their knowledge of Timothy, which focuses on his “proven worth” and his long-term service alongside Paul in the cause of the gospel.

These three sentences function like a “letter of commendation”—for Timothy, of all things, who is not coming with this letter, but will be coming later.13 Although the paragraph, therefore, fits a well-known letter-writing convention, it also offers “justification” for Paul’s sending him to find out about their affairs—after Epaphroditus has returned!14 But this explanation gets away from Paul a bit, so in vv. 23–24 he resumes the basic datum—the sending of Timothy—but with two additional pieces of information (filling out some earlier information): Timothy is to be sent as soon as Paul has some sense about “his own affairs”; and he himself will come as soon as possible. These pick up items from 1:19–20 and 24–26.

Thus vv. 19 and 23–24 function as a kind of travel narrative. But it is not possible even here for the apostle to speak without expressing concern for the gospel. So along with the basic issue of his and their relationship, and his concern about them, the explanatory “commendation” of Timothy (vv. 20–22) has the gospel as its underlying current, becoming explicit at the end of v. 22. The content of vv. 20–22 suggests that, along with himself (in 1:12–26) and Christ (2:5–11), Timothy is also being set forth as something of a paradigm.

19 Having brought himself back into the picture at the end of the long exhortation, by reflecting on his and their respective suffering (vv. 17–18), Paul returns to where the narrative left off in 1:26.15 This opening sentence offers the basic datum (“I hope … to send Timothy to you soon”), and his reason for it (“that I for my part may be cheered when I learn about ‘your affairs’ ”16). Since the outcome of his trial is still future, he “hopes”17 to do this (repeated in v. 23), in contrast to the actual “I thought it necessary to send Epaphroditus” in v. 25. This hope is qualified as “in the Lord Jesus,”18 a qualifier which is used in similar ways, and with a whole variety of nuances, throughout the letter.19 As in 1:14, the emphasis is on the grounds for his “hope.” From the time he was “found in Christ Jesus” (3:9), so that Christ thus became his whole life (1:21), everything Paul thinks, says, or does is based on his relationship with “the Lord Jesus.”20 Thus, even though “hope” may be watered down at times (as in our idiom, “I hope so,” when we have very little confidence about something), this qualifier, plus the change in v. 24 to “I am persuaded in the Lord” when referring to his own coming, suggests that “hope” moves much closer to certainty.21

The word “soon,”22 which ordinarily means “quickly,” in the sense of “without delay,” can hardly mean that here. In light of its usage in v. 24, it can only mean “as soon as possible”; even so this word is probably used to express the urgency Paul feels about the matters just addressed (in 1:27–2:18). Thus, it will be “without delay,” once the present delay regarding the outcome of his incarceration is resolved.

The reason for sending Timothy is expressed in terms quite the reverse of his ordinary reason for sending one of his co-workers to a church. In most cases, it is for their sakes—to straighten something out, or to bring something started to completion.23 But here it is first of all for his own sake, that “I for my part24 might be cheered,”25 in the sense of being encouraged or refreshed by good news about them. The implied contrast in “I for my part” is probably what he expects will happen to them as they learn from this letter and from Epaphroditus about “his affairs.” Likewise, what will “cheer” Paul will be to “learn about your affairs.” In light of the same phrase in 1:27, this can scarcely mean “about you” personally and probably not “about your affairs in general,” but “about your affairs” addressed in 1:27–2:18. This is verified by the contrast in v. 21, where concern over one’s own interests is contrasted with “those of Jesus Christ.” This, after all, is the concern that causes the letter to be written at all. It is this sending of Timothy and expectation of hearing back from him26 before he himself comes that makes the “soon” in Paul’s case so problematic (see on v. 24).

20 With an explanatory “for,” Paul proceeds to “commend” Timothy, even though he is not the bearer of the present letter. Significantly, the commendation does not speak first about their own long-term knowledge of him (see on 1:1), but about Paul’s having no one like-minded. What he says about Timothy in this first instance sounds so much like his appeal to them in vv. 3–4, one must assume this to be intentional, and for their sakes.

First, then, “I have no one else of like soul27 (or mind).” Although the referent of “like-souled” is not immediately clear, most likely Paul means that Timothy is “like-minded to me,” rather than no one else is like-minded to Timothy.28 Thus with a slight word play on “being cheered” (lit., “good souled”), Paul emphasizes that the primary reason for Timothy’s coming is that he can count on him to carry Paul’s own deep concerns at heart. Those concerns, repeating from v. 19, are for “your affairs.” That is, when he arrives you can count on it, “he will genuinely29 show concern30 for your affairs,” referring especially to how they are faring with regard to their standing firm in one Spirit in the face of opposition in Philippi (1:27–30). Paul thus begins with the reasons from his perspective why only Timothy will do; he will go on in v. 22 to the reason from their perspective. But before that he takes a broadside at some people, who are not of his or Timothy’s mindset.

21 With another explanatory “for,” Paul now contrasts Timothy’s concern for the Philippians’ welfare with the mindset of others, who “seek their own interests, not those of Christ Jesus.” That they stand in direct contrast to Timothy, who will be concerned about “your affairs” when he comes, attests that “the interests of Christ Jesus” have to do with love for God being shown by love for neighbor. This is what the letter to this point has been all about, Paul’s own “seeking the interests of Christ Jesus,” as he appeals to the Philippians to work out—among themselves and in Philippi—the salvation that Christ has brought them.

But we are poorly prepared for this sentence. Verses 20 (Paul’s reasons from his perspective for sending Timothy) and 22 (Paul’s reasons from their perspective) make perfectly good sense. But why this interruption, and who are these people, especially since Paul’s brush sweeps so widely: “All” are like this.

We begin with the “all,”31 which can only refer to people in Rome, not Philippi,32 and which should mean something like, “the whole lot of them.” But “the whole lot of whom,” since he probably does not intend to indict every believer in Rome? The form of the contrast, especially the words in v. 20, “I have no one like-minded,” sounds as if he intended to contrast Timothy with other co-workers who might be available for such duty.33 But in fact Paul does not say that (nor is it necessarily implied, as many suggest).34 Moreover, the content of the sentence makes this understanding difficult to believe. Given what we know of Paul elsewhere and the high regard with which he holds those who travel with him, and that in 4:21 he sends greetings from “the brothers who are with me,” it does not seem possible that he should here slander them with this kind of barrage. Furthermore, in light of the next verse, it seems altogether unlikely that he would even have considered sending anyone else.

The contrast, therefore, is not between Timothy and other co-workers who could make this trip, but between Timothy’s character qualifications and some other people who came to mind as Paul was dictating. These people are condemned precisely because they lack the two essential qualities noted of Timothy in v. 20: like-mindedness with Paul, which expresses itself in genuine concern for others, and thus exemplifies the character of the gospel as that was presented in 2:3–4. This seems verified by the content of the contrast; where we might have expected a contrast at the human level, “they seek their own interests not those of others,” what we get is a contrast concerning the gospel: their “concerns” are not “those of Jesus Christ.” Probably, therefore, this aside looks in two directions at once. On the one hand, what prompts it are those people already mentioned in 1:15 and 17,35 who preach Christ, but “not purely/ sincerely,” and who therefore are not truly doing so for Christ’s sake. On the other hand, as v. 20 has already hinted, Timothy is being set forth as yet another model of one who “thinks like Christ” and is therefore being singled out in light of some in Philippi who are otherwise-minded (2:3–4).

That means, therefore, that the contrast is not with anyone else whom Paul might be able to send but will not because they are too self-serving, but between Timothy’s positive qualities in v. 20 and some in Rome—not to mention Philippi—who are otherwise. That this contrast is intended in part for Philippi seems verified by Paul’s language, which is the clue to much. Such people, he says, “seek their own interests”;36 Paul has already appealed to the Philippians to do nothing out of self-interest, but rather in humility to regard the needs of others as having precedence to their own (2:3–4).

22 From his denunciation of the self-seeking, Paul returns to the commendation of Timothy,37 reminding the Philippians of their own knowledge of him: “His proven character38 you know.” The word “proven character” has been coined from the verb, “to put to the test.” In 2 Cor 8:2 it refers to the “test” that the Philippians themselves had gone through; but in Rom 5:5 it denotes the “character” that such testing has produced. The latter is probably in view here. Because of long associations with Timothy, they know his worth, that his character has been put to the test and thus “he has proved himself” (NIV).

But as with almost everything else in this letter, Paul’s interest in Timothy’s “proven character” is not with his “character” in general, but as that has been demonstrated in the way “he has served with me in the cause of the gospel.” As they well know, that relationship is one of “a son39 with his father.” But the emphasis in this case is not on their relationship as such, but on Timothy’s being “likeminded” with his “father” in the gospel, alongside whom he has served for so many years. The reminder, therefore, is similar to that in 1 Cor 4:17, “like father, like son.” You can count on his being among you as a son who looks and acts just like his father. Thus, “he has served40 with me in the cause of the gospel,” which is very much like what he had earlier thanked God for with regard to them (in 1:5). As with the content of the two preceding verses, this too is expressed in terms that recall earlier moments in the letter, and therefore is very likely intended also to serve in a paradigmatic way.

23 With a resumptive “therefore,”41 Paul returns to the basic datum of v. 19, that he “hopes to send Timothy.” But now, instead of “soon,” he qualifies with a clause that indicates why Timothy is coming later, and has not accompanied Epaphroditus. Although the clause is awkwardly expressed in Greek,42 Paul’s point is clear. As soon as he has any inkling43 as to the outcome of the trial, he will send Timothy to fill them in further on “my affairs.”44 Thus Timothy’s reason for coming is twofold: in the first instance for Paul’s sake, to see how the letter has affected them; and second for their sakes, to be encouraged and brought up to speed about the outcome of his imprisonment.

24 Having indicated the second reason for Timothy’s coming, to report on “my affairs,” Paul concludes this brief look into the expected future by repeating what he told them in 1:24–26, this time even more emphatically: “I myself will come soon.” Here is the certain evidence that the adverb “quickly” does not mean “right away,” as it ordinarily does, but “quickly” in the sense of “at once after I see how things go with me.”

In 1:24 this persuasion was expressed in terms of “necessity,” implying “divine necessity” that had their “progress in the faith” as its ultimate concern. Now he expresses that persuasion in the strongest kind of language: “I am confident in the Lord,” exactly as he has expressed it about those in Rome who have been emboldened toward greater evangelism as the result of Paul’s imprisonment (1:14). It is hard to make it plainer, given the outcome is still in the future, that he fully expects to be released, and therefore that the talk about “death” in 1:21–23 was a yearning, not an anticipation of the near future.45 Which in turn also indicates that the metaphor in v. 17 above is unlikely to be a reflection on martyrdom, but a reference to his present suffering.

Although a passage like this carries much less theological grist than what has preceded, what emerges is of considerable moment. Paul’s description of Timothy, especially as that stands in contrast to those in Rome who out of rivalry are trying to increase his affliction, lies at the heart of what Paul understands Christian life to be all about. Reflecting the kind of concern he has raised by way of appeal in 2:3–4 (see v. 21), he reminds the Philippians that Timothy’s coming to them would reflect his genuine concern about them; Timothy simply is not one to seek his own interests ahead of those of Christ Jesus. As noted on that passage, it is hard to imagine a more certain antidote to any number of struggles that consistently plague the local church, not to mention larger bodies and denominations, than this one—that God’s people all be as Timothy in terms of their putting the interests of others as the matter of first importance. Here again the way of “humility,” taking the lower road by way of the cross, is on full display; and here alone, as the gospel impacts the people of God in this way at the core of our beings, can we expect truly to count for the gospel in a world that lives the opposite, not only as a matter of course, but for the most part as its primary value. One must “look out for number one,” after all. Agreed, as long as one recognizes the cross to dictate that “number one” is one’s neighbor and not oneself.

B. EPAPHRODITUS TO COME NOW (2:25–30)

25But I think it necessary to send back to you Epaphroditus, my brother, fellow worker and fellow soldier, who is also your messenger, whom you sent to take care of my needs. 26For he longs1 for all of you and is distressed because you heard he was ill. 27Indeed he was ill, and almost died. But God had mercy on him, and not on him only but also on me, to spare me sorrow upon sorrow. 28Therefore I am all the more eager to send him, so that when you see him again you may be glad and I may have less anxiety. 29Welcome him in the Lord with great joy, and honor [people]2 like him, 30because he almost died for the work of Christ,3 risking his life4 to make up for the help you could not give me.

From his plans to hear about their affairs (now in response to this letter) and to come himself as soon as possible, Paul turns to the more immediate matter at hand—the return of Epaphroditus, who is also the bearer of the letter. Logically, this paragraph should precede the former: Epaphroditus now, Timothy and myself later. But Paul’s logic is that of concern, not chronology. Most striking (for us) about the present paragraph is that it takes the form of commendation, the kind of thing that regularly appears in letters from the Greco-Roman period to “introduce” the bearer of the letter to the one(s) addressed.5 How much one should make of this is a debated question, raised primarily because Epaphroditus is so well known and because, besides explaining Epaphroditus’ long absence and recent recovery, Paul also urges them to welcome him with honor.

The paragraph is in two parts (vv. 25–27; 28–30), both of which (a) begin on the same note (Paul’s having sent Epaphroditus), (b) mention Epaphroditus as the Philippians’ “minister to my needs,” and (c) note that Epaphroditus’s illness brought him very near to death. What is being explained in both parts are the reasons for sending Epaphroditus now, and not waiting for the outcome of Paul’s trial. The first part gives the reason from Epaphroditus’s perspective: his own deep longing for the community back home in light of their knowing about his illness (v. 26). It begins with the fact of Paul’s sending him, including a considerable elaboration of his relationship to Paul and his service to Paul on their behalf (v. 25). Having mentioned Epaphroditus’s illness, Paul concludes with a note about the severity of the illness and the greatness of God’s mercy (v. 27). Verses 28–30 then give the reason for sending him, now from the Philippians’ perspective: their own joy in seeing him again which will lessen Paul’s present sorrow to some degree (v. 28). He then concludes with the actual commendation (v. 29) and the reasons for it (v. 30)—that Epaphroditus risked his life to “fill up the vacancy of your absence” and thus “of your priestly service toward me.”

But why such a commendation in this letter? Because of its length and his urging the community to receive him with joy, some have read this as indicative of the tension in the community, and that Epaphroditus was on one side of that tension,6 while others see it as a semi-veiled “apology” for sending Epaphroditus home “before he had finished his commission” of staying with Paul and ministering to his needs.7 But that is probably to read far too much into very little, both in this paragraph and in the whole letter. Nowhere does Paul hint that tension within the community amounts to open “division.” Rather, what is lacking is a common purpose, which has led to some posturing, including (apparently) some disputing and unwillingness to serve one another in love. It is possible, therefore, that Paul is here “covering Epaphroditus’s tracks” for him, since he was the obvious bearer of this unhappy news to Paul. But since nothing else in the letter suggests tension between the church and Paul, and since the letter pours forth with affection at every point, far more likely this profusion of commendation is part of that affection. Paul has received their gift from Epaphroditus (cf. 4:18); now in sending him back he commends him to them as one of their own, and in honoring Epaphroditus, Paul honors them. Thus rather than read ulterior motives into words of affection, we should take them at face value.8 Epaphroditus really has been full of concern for the “folks back home”; that he should have risked his life on their behalf is reason enough for Paul to urge them to receive him back with joy. That God has spared him so that he could come back at all is all the more reason for joy.

Many see this paragraph as paradigmatic as well, and given the role of every preceding narrative to this point, that may well be so again. If so, the paradigm here moves toward the “suffering” side of things in this letter. Epaphroditus models one who was ready to “risk his life,” thus to suffer for the sake of Christ on behalf of others. What makes one think so in this case is the unique phrase “unto death” (v. 30), used elsewhere in Paul only in 2:8 to refer to Christ’s death on the cross.

On the further issue raised by this paragraph, having to do with the place of Paul’s imprisonment and the number of trips to and fro implied by what Paul says here, see the Introduction, pp. 36–37. See further on v. 26 for a suggestion as to how and when the church heard of his illness.

25 The “but” with which this paragraph begins contrasts what Paul will now say about Epaphroditus with what he has just said about Timothy’s and his own coming. His “hoping” and “being confident in the Lord” did not indicate lack of certainty, but the necessary hesitation when speaking of future events of that kind. But now—and from the perspective of their reading the letter—he affirms, “I considered9 it necessary” to send Epaphroditus back home, probably as soon as he had recovered sufficiently to make the journey. The rest of the paragraph basically explains why it was “necessary”10 to do so, and in so doing Paul honors Epaphroditus before the community for his having risked his life on their and Paul’s behalf.

That the concern is in part to honor Epaphroditus before them becomes clear by the word order of Paul’s sentence. Having mentioned him by name,11 and before the infinitive “to send12 him to you,” Paul offers no less than five epithets, three describing his relationship to Paul13 and two to the community, including the fact that he acted on their behalf regarding Paul. First, he is “my brother,” the fundamental term of relationship within the believing community;14 he is to Paul what the rest of them are as well. Second, he is Paul’s “co-worker,” Paul’s most common term for those who have labored with him in the gospel in some way,15 including Euodia and Syntyche and others in Philippi (4:3). But in this case, third, Paul further defines his role as co-worker with a military metaphor; he is also “my fellow soldier.”16 Military imagery is not common in Paul; very likely it was evoked by the surroundings (the Praetorian Guard, 1:13), or by the fact that Roman Philippi originated as a military colony.17 With reference to Epaphroditus, the imagery is that of a wounded comrade-in-arms, who is being sent back home for rest. Since Epaphroditus was almost certainly present at the dictation of the letter, these words are spoken as much for his sake as for that of the community; but they are surely for the community’s sake as well, to emphasize that their messenger in Paul’s behalf is considered by him to be a fellow soldier for the sake the gospel.

Finally, Paul also designates him as “your messenger18 and ministrant19 to my need.” Epaphroditus thus served as an “apostle,” one sent on behalf of the congregation to perform a given task.20 That task is then expressed with a metaphor from the sacrificial system: he “performed a priestly duty” on their behalf “for Paul’s needs.”21 This is the first certain mention of their gift to Paul, although as noted on 1:5, it was most likely included already in the phrase “participation with me in the gospel.” It is moot whether it is also alluded to by the term “your sacrifice and ministry” in 2:17, although the sacerdotal language used there and here (as well as in 4:18) makes a strong case for such. In any case Paul’s present point is clear; in a culture where prisoners were not cared for by the state, but whose “necessities” for life (especially food) had to be supplied by friends or relatives, this is no small thing that they have done. They have thus “offered priestly service” (to God, is implied) by their sending Epaphroditus with the gift necessary for him to sustain life in prison. This present word about Epaphroditus anticipates the full acknowledgment in 4:14–20.

26 The preceding clause concluded with the words “to send to you.” Hard on the heels of those words Paul now offers his first explanation—from Epaphroditus’ perspective—as to why it was necessary to send him now, and alone, not waiting for the outcome of the trial: “since he has been longing22 for all of you23 and has been distressed24 because you heard he had taken sick.”25 The point of this clause is plain enough, and it is doubtful that there are hidden agenda. As their messenger and “ministrant” to Paul’s needs, Epaphroditus was desirous to return home, partly because of his affection (“longing”) for them26 and partly because he was deeply distressed for their sakes over their having heard about his illness but not about its happy resolution.27 Only those who have not had such experiences, when one has knowledge both of a sickness and its severity and where communication is not readily available, would ever read ulterior motives into this. Furthermore, such a view calls Paul’s integrity into question, which borders on arrogance for those so far removed in time and place from the apostle.

This sentence has also been cause for many to doubt the Roman provenance of this letter, supposing that he took ill in Paul’s company and that someone had to carry that news to Philippi (one trip) and another had to carry the news of their distress back to wherever Paul is imprisoned (another trip).28 The implication is that the distance between Philippi and Rome is much too great for such comings and goings.29 But that is a quite unnecessary, and unlikely, scenario to read into this sentence. Given that Epaphroditus was probably carrying a considerable sum of money, it is equally unlikely that he was traveling alone.30 The most promising scenario, therefore, is the one that sees him as having taken ill on the way to Rome, with one of his traveling companions returning to Philippi with that news (which is how Epaphroditus knew they knew), while another (or others) stayed with him as he continued on his way to Rome, even though doing so put his life at great risk (v. 30).31 This view is favored in particular by the way Paul phrases v. 30 (q.v.), that he had risked his life in order that he might fulfill his mission to Paul on behalf of Philippi.

27 With an emphatic “for indeed,”32 Paul goes on to bear witness, first, to the severe nature of the illness, and second, to the wideness of God’s mercy—both to Epaphroditus and to himself. We have no way of knowing the nature of Epaphroditus’s illness; what Paul underscores is how serious it really was, enough to bring him to death’s door.33 The repetition of this motif in v. 30 further indicates its true seriousness.

But the other side of reality, which the Philippians would now be experiencing with his arrival, is that “God had mercy on him”—a clause probably read much too casually by those of us who have the benefits of modern medical science. Far fewer people in antiquity recovered from death’s door. In saying “God had mercy on him,” therefore, Paul probably does not mean simply that in God’s good mercy Epaphroditus simply got better, but that God had a direct hand in it.34 Most likely his recovery was due to what elsewhere Paul calls “gifts of healings” (1 Cor 12:9, 28, 30).

In this case, however, there is no mention of a “gift of healing”; Paul’s emphasis rests altogether on the mercy of God evidenced by Epaphroditus’s recovery, which in turn does not so much stress generosity toward the undeserving—although that is always true as well—but the experience of mercy itself.35 This is made certain by the final addendum, “not on him only, but also on me, to spare me sorrow upon sorrow,” a clause that once again presupposes his close relationship with this community. They know well Paul’s affection for them; the concluding plaintive note simply underscores it.

We can only guess what Paul is referring to by the first level of “sorrow” upon which additional sorrow would have been piled;36 it probably picks up the recurring motif of suffering, of his continually being poured out as a drink offering (v. 17), especially in his present imprisonment.37 This little phrase should also be regularly kept in mind when in this letter we repeatedly hear Paul speak of rejoicing. Joy does not mean the absence of sorrow, but the capacity to rejoice in the midst of it. His gratitude in the present case is for mercy, that he has not had sorrow of this kind—the loss of a long-time and dear brother in the Lord—added to the sorrow he already knows.

As usual, therefore, Paul can hardly speak without reflecting on everything from its theological perspective. The God he serves is full of mercy, both in healing the sick and in sparing the heavy-laden from further sorrow.

28 With another “therefore” Paul returns to the opening words of v. 25, but now as a matter of fact, “I sent him.” The qualifier “all the more eager”38 indicates that the “therefore” in this case, in contrast to v. 23, is not resumptive, but inferential. Thus Paul offers the reciprocal side of Epaphroditus’ distress over their knowledge of his illness: “that you may see him again and rejoice.” In 1:25 Paul suggested that his own coming would be for their progress, and thus for further joy, regarding the faith itself. Here their joy will be that gladsome, spontaneous delight in seeing their brother again, and especially in seeing him alive and well. But did Paul here intend “see him again and rejoice” or “see him and again rejoice,” since the placement of “again” is perfectly ambiguous?39 Pauline usage clearly favors the latter, since this adverb almost always precedes the verb it modifies. Paul, therefore, probably intended that in seeing him they would “rejoice again,” which is quite in keeping with the repetition of this imperative in the letter. On the other hand, one cannot be sure that this is how the Philippians would have understood it, since it also seems to go so naturally with the participle “seeing.” In any case, Epaphroditus’s return is to be a cause for renewing their joy.

Not only so. Just as he added a word of personal relief at the mercy of God in sparing Epaphroditus, so here Paul adds a similar word, “and I for my part may have less sorrow.”40 Thus, their renewed joy, which was undoubtedly a cause for joy for Paul as well, is here expressed in terms of its opposite, and in response to “sorrow upon sorrow” in v. 27. Epaphroditus’ return will thus lessen Paul’s sorrow at the first level as well. That is, God’s mercy on Epaphroditus meant that Paul was not given extra sorrow; his anticipation of their joy in seeing Epaphroditus again, and their concomitant relief from anxiety over him, will also have the effect of lessening Paul’s ongoing grief (related to his imprisonment).

29 With another inferential “therefore” Paul comes at last to the “commendation” proper, expressed in this case by way of a compound imperative.41 Since Paul has sent him back for the triple reasons given (for Epaphroditus’s, theirs, and Paul’s sakes), “therefore,” he concludes, “welcome him in the Lord with all joy”42 and “honor such people as he.” Here is a troublesome word for some.43 Why should Paul have to “command” such a thing, if there were not trouble around the edges? But even to ask the question is to make far too much of the imperative, which is a standard feature of such “commendations” in Greco-Roman letters, not to mention in Paul himself.44 Having given the reasons for their welcoming him back with joy, Paul now concludes by urging them to do so. Thus, not all imperatives in Paul are “correcting” something that has gone wrong.

The first imperative, of course, repeats what he said in the preceding clause as to the purpose of his sending Epaphroditus back home. But it does so with the typical (for this letter especially) qualifier “in the Lord.” The nuance of this phrase is again not easy to pin down; but most likely it is similar to Paul’s “hope in the Lord” (v. 19) and “confidence in the Lord” (v. 24) in the preceding paragraph. Everything that believers do is “in the Lord” in some way or other. Here it probably reflects the fact that their common existence, theirs and Epaphroditus’s, is predicated on the fact that together they are “in the Lord,” meaning they belong to him.

The second imperative is also typical, that they hold “such people” in honor. Although this plural may indicate, as suggested above, that others are traveling with him and that in this final word they too are included, more likely this simply reflects a standard idiom. When Epaphroditus is held up for “honor”45 of this kind, at the same time he belongs to the larger category of “such people” who deserve esteem. Thus the two imperatives together indicate the kind of reception Epaphroditus deserves upon his return, the kind of esteem in which they should hold him for what he has done. Such honor is not drawing glory away from God, but is that properly given to one of God’s own, who nearly “poured out his life” on behalf of a brother.

30 With a final causal clause, Paul repeats, but also elaborates, the two basic reasons given above for their esteeming Epaphroditus highly on his return home:46 first, because “he almost died47 for the work of Christ,” which is then elaborated, “having risked48 his life to fill up49 the help you could not give me.” For the first of these see on v. 27. What is added here, which we could have guessed at but without certain evidence, is that his coming so close to death was the direct result of engaging in “the work of Christ.” Ordinarily this language has to do with evangelism; but here that would seem to be only indirectly so. The grammar of the sentence indicates that it refers to Epaphroditus’ bringing their gift to Paul in Rome; and since Paul’s imprisonment is directly related to the “work of Christ,” any gift brought to him by fellow believers in this way would be seen as participating in the gospel, as 1:5 suggests.

The next qualifier intensifies “he almost died for the work of Christ.” What happened, Paul suggests, is that by his completing his mission in the midst of severe illness, Epaphroditus put his own life in jeopardy. At least that is what the grammar implies. The main clause says, “he almost died for the work of Christ,” which is now modified by an aorist participle followed by a purpose clause, which goes with the participle, not the main clause. Thus, “he almost died for the sake of Christ, by having risked his life in order to complete … your service to me.” The clear implication is that there is “a causal connexion between the bringing of the gift and the risking of his life.”50 This is the phrase that gives credence to the view noted above (v. 26), that he most likely took ill en route to Rome, but pressed on anyway to fulfill his commitment to the church and Paul, and thus exposed himself to the very real possibility of death.

The final purpose clause gives the reason for Epaphroditus’ so risking his life, while at the same time it offers the believers in Philippi their ultimate reason for holding him in high honor: he was willing to risk his life so that he might “make up for the help you could not give me.” But it is doubtful whether Paul intended to sound quite so pejorative. This combination of the verb “make up for” and the noun “lacking”51 is used in a similar context in 1 Cor 16:17 to refer to “making up for the absence of the rest.” That is almost surely the intent here. Thus, the clause begins, “he has made up for your lack” in the sense of “your absence.” Paul’s absence from Philippi has created a gap in his life, and Epaphroditus has filled that up to a degree. Having made that point, Paul then returns to the sacrificial imagery of v. 25. With a genitive qualifier he indicates that by the “lack” of their not being present, neither could they minister to his needs as they would have liked; but now Epaphroditus has done so in their behalf. As in v. 25 he expresses their gift to him through Epaphroditus in terms of “performing the duties of a priest” in his behalf. Thus, very much in keeping with 4:10 he recognizes that their “lack” with regard to him was not in the willing but in the opportunity. The result is a clause very awkwardly stated, but whose sense goes something like this: “so that he might make up for your absence, and thus ‘minister’ to my needs as you have not had opportunity to do recently.”

Thus Paul concludes this brief narrative of proposed travel plans. The narrative is full of warmth and pathos, victory and trepidation. His affection for the Philippians spills over to them through his expressions of affection for Epaphroditus, their “ministrant” to his human needs. At the same time the passage echoes with notes of gratitude and joy, gratitude to God for his mercy in healing a brother, joy renewed as they see him again. Paul hints at his sorrows, but does not elaborate; instead, the passage is full of affection and honor for one who dared to risk his life “for the work of Christ” in bringing him material aid. His ultimate concern is that the Philippians themselves appreciate Epaphroditus for what he has done in their behalf for Paul’s sake. If he also thus serves as one who was willing to suffer for the sake of Christ, that note, while not played loudly, neither is played so softly that it cannot be heard. Thus, here is very personal material, which receives its theological moments because Paul seems incapable of doing anything otherwise.

A passage like this ought to serve as a constant reminder to all of us (scholar, pastor, student of the Bible) that the NT was written in the context of real people in a very real world. Biblical texts are too often the scholar’s playground and the believer’s rule book, without adequate appreciation for the truly human nature of these texts—texts written by one whose speech was ever informed by his theology, but who expressed that theology at a very personal and practical level. Without being maudlin or saccharine one may rightly note that Paul lived as a believer in a world surrounded by friends, that those friends brought him joy, and that the untimely death of such friends would have been for him immeasurable grief. Hence the sense of deep relief at the experience of God’s mercy is worth noting. That Epaphroditus’ illness was itself the direct result of his “risking his life” for the sake of the work of Christ is also worth noting, especially in a culture where taking risks is primarily related to “business ventures,” rather than to genuinely personal risks related to one’s love for Christ and for his people.

V. THEIR “AFFAIRS”—AGAIN (3:1–4:3)

The letter now takes an especially intriguing turn—so much so that the majority have despaired of finding any “logic” to its present order, and some see the break as so severe as to posit the presence here of a “fragment” from another letter altogether.1 Some of the difficulties should be obvious to any reader: the sudden denunciation of false teachers in v. 2 after apparently starting to wrap things up (“finally, rejoice in the Lord”), returning to “finally” and “rejoice” at the end (4:8, 4); how the second part of Paul’s testimony, about his not having “arrived” but still pressing on toward the eschatological goal (vv. 12–14), is related to the first part, where he contrasts his former life in Judaism with present righteousness based on faith (vv. 4a-9); how those described in vv. 18–19, over whom Paul weeps, are related to those flailed in v. 2 for promoting circumcision.2 At first blush one wonders whether something new has happened between 3:1a and 1b that has caused a sudden outburst of warning, followed by a series of new appeals.

On the other hand, all of the basic concerns that have preceded are echoed here: first, in Paul’s testimony (vv. 4–14), with (a) its thoroughgoing christocentricity, including the language “gain Christ” (v. 8, which recalls 1:21, “for me to live is Christ; to die is gain”), (b) its emphasis on “participation in Christ’s sufferings” (vv. 10–11), which recalls 1:29–30 and 2:17, and (c) the eschatological orientation of its conclusion (vv. 11–14, 20–21), which recalls a primary motif from chaps. 1–2 (see on 1:6). Second, in the final application and appeal of 4:1–3, Paul repeats (a) the exhortation from 1:27 to “stand fast in the Lord” (4:1), (b) the appeal in 2:2 that they “have the same mindset in the Lord” (4:2), and (c) the language “contending together for the gospel” from 1:27. Furthermore, the whole continues to be written in the first person singular and second person plural (with occasional moments of first person plural when Paul includes himself and them together). All of these together suggest, first, that despite appearances there is a genuine relationship between this material and what has preceded, and, second, that the repeated “finally” and “rejoice in the Lord,” rather than indicating an interruption or digression, more likely function as a framing device for the appeal contained in 3:1 to 4:9, while the repetition of “stand fast” and “have the same mindset” in 4:1–2 functions in the same way as an inclusio for 1:27–4:3. Finally, it should be noted that all of the material in this section fits the genre of a hortatory letter of friendship.3

What this suggests further is that the warning in 3:2 with its follow-up response in vv. 4–9 and the contrast between “those whose minds are set on earthly things” and “us with our heavenly citizenship” (vv. 17–21) are in some way related to the preceding concerns—even if the precise nature of that relationship may forever allude us. This seems the more certain in light of two other phenomena that are crucial to the present passage: first, that Paul twice reminds the Philippians that he is currently writing something he has told them over and again (3:1b and 18), and that the largest single block of material is Paul’s personal testimony (3:4–14), which is followed by no less than three different appeals to “imitate me” (3:15, 17; 4:9).

Very likely, therefore, this section continues the “chronological” dimension of the letter, as Paul returns once more to “their affairs” and their “progress and joy in the faith” (1:25). The whole letter is dictated from the perspective of its being read aloud in the assembly. Thus the first appeal regarding “their affairs” (1:27–2:18) was written in light of his current “absence” from them (1:27; 2:12), and reflects what he had learned from Epaphroditus. Now, in light of Epaphroditus’s return and with his assumed presence in the congregation in mind,4 Paul returns to their circumstances: their need to “progress in the faith” (1:25), to have “joy” renewed5 and to find that joy “in the Lord,” and thus not fall prey to the kind of teaching he has repeatedly warned them about in the past6—which is perhaps related to the present tensions among them, as well as to the abatement of eschatological focus on the part of some.

They are therefore urged: (1) to recall prior warnings (against those who would entice them to submit to Jewish “boundary markers” and thus be identified with Israel’s former covenant while they also identify with Christ), (2) to find their joy in the Lord—alone—including present participation in his sufferings as they await the final glory, (3) to hold fast to—indeed eagerly look forward to—their sure hope of Christ’s coming, of thus obtaining the final prize of their “upward calling in Christ Jesus,” and (4) specifically to those who are the source of current unrest, to do all this with a single mindset, living together in joy, peace, and patience.

Paul begins in 3:1–4a with the primary imperative, “rejoice in the Lord,” and the oft-repeated warning and contrast between “Judaizers” and believers in Christ. That is followed by his personal story (vv. 4–14),7 which begins by setting himself forth as living evidence of the failure of righteousness based on Torah observance (4–9), and concludes by emphasizing participation in Christ’s sufferings and thus being conformed to his death (10–11) while striving for the final eschatological goal (12–14). This is then applied to the Philippian situation (vv. 15–21): first urging them to imitate him in these matters (15–17), then contrasting himself to others who as enemies of the cross (= a cruciform lifestyle) have also lost their future orientation (18–19), and concluding on the high note of their “already/not yet” existence in Christ—present heavenly “citizenship” as they await the return of Christ and their glorious transformation into his likeness (20–21).

He then wraps up all the preceding exhortations (1:27–2:18; 3:1–21) by applying the preceding warning and appeal directly to the concern over standing firm as one person for the gospel (4:1–3). This in turn leads naturally to further concluding exhortations, first (4–7) in the form of a typical series of “staccato” imperatives, designed with their circumstances in mind; and second (8–9), as a final appeal to give themselves to “higher things” and to follow his example. All of which leads to a final word about his “affairs” in light of their recent gift (vv. 10–20), in which he once more emphasizes their long-standing partnership with him in the gospel, the note on which the letter began (1:3–8).

If the passage itself is not as tidy as some would count tidy, and if some of the details and relationships between the parts remain something of a mystery, the whole is nonetheless explicable as it stands and does not need the radical dismemberment some would apply to it.

A. THE APPEAL—AGAINST CIRCUMCISION (3:1–4a)

1Finally, my brothers [and sisters],8 rejoice in the Lord! It is no trouble for me to write the same things to you again, and it is a safeguard for you.

2Watch out for those dogs, those [evil doers],9 those mutilators of the flesh. 3For it is we who are the circumcision, we who worship by the Spirit of God,10 who glory in Christ Jesus, and who put no confidence in the flesh—4though I myself have reasons for such confidence.

The difficulty with this paragraph is reflected in the way various English translations offer paragraph breaks in vv. 1–2,11 which are based on the assumption that Paul here begins to wrap things up (1a), only to shift suddenly and inexplicably to a severe denunciation of some opponents.12 But there are good reasons to read vv. 1–2 as they stand and as intentionally dictated in precisely this way. First, the adverb translated “finally” is best understood as transitional toward the final matter to be taken up. Thus Paul does not intend finally, but “as for the rest [of what needs to be spoken to].” Second, the five sentences that constitute our vv. 1–2 are asyndetic (lacking the standard nuancing particle), which in Paul is usually for effect, indicating the closest kind of relationship between them.13 Third, one can make sense of this relationship,14 without resorting to hypothetical sudden shifts in Paul’s circumstances.15

After the transitional adverb, “as for the rest,” Paul begins his final appeal by picking up the imperative “rejoice” from 2:18, to which he now adds “in the Lord.” Not only is this a major concern in the letter, but this reminder is also the framework in which they are to hear the final warning and appeal. That means the next sentence (v. 1b), not the threefold “watch out for” (v. 2), is the beginning of this appeal. What he is about to write, he begins, is something they have heard from him often before; to repeat it in this letter is not onerous for him, rather, it is precisely for their security. And with that he warns them one more time, with strikingly emotive language, against those who might try to come into their community and urge Gentile believers to submit to circumcision. The reason they must not give heed to such persuasions, he goes on, rests on the fact that “we” who have received the Spirit and boast in Christ are God’s Israel, the “true circumcision.” It is the difference between “serving” by the Spirit and trusting in “the flesh,” which language serves as the springboard for his personal testimony—Exhibit A regarding the validity of vv. 2–3.

Given the frequency with which Paul speaks to this issue in his letters,16 one must assume that the arguments of the Judaizing faction had a surface attractiveness to many, despite the (literally) painful consequences if Gentiles were to submit. But Paul appeals not to the physical pain, but to historical and theological realities. Why the Philippians should need to be warned again against such “rubbish” (v. 8), and whether it is related to teachings espoused by either of the women in 4:2, are matters of conjecture. Among the better guesses is that which sees a relationship between the attractiveness of “becoming Jewish” (a religio licita) and the Philippians’ present suffering at the hands of fellow Roman citizens, because they were followers of a Kyrios who had been executed as a state criminal. Perhaps by embracing the outward expressions of Jewish identity, they could still belong to Christ but ward off some of the opposition.17

In any case, and despite the emotive language of v. 2, there is little hint either here or elsewhere in the letter that such people are actually present in Philippi at the time of this writing or that a serious threat is at hand.18 After all, Paul’s primary response takes the form of personal narrative, not argumentation as such;19 and not once does he threaten them with the consequences of such action. His main thrust is altogether positive, setting life in Christ in stark contrast to what he had formerly known as a Torah observant Jew.20 This suggests that the emotive language is more a reflection of Paul’s own distaste for such people, after so many years of struggle against them,21 than it is a direct attack against anyone currently in Philippi.

1 The word translated “finally” by the NIV22 marks a transition to the final matters to be taken up in the letter, not its conclusion. Hence “finally” is a purely gratuitous translation, as though Paul were about to begin what he finally gets to in 4:4 and 8 or that this is the actual conclusion of one of three alleged letters. What it means here is exactly what it meant in 1 Thess 4:1 and 2 Thess 3:1, “as for the rest,” meaning “as for what remains to be said.” As in previous cases, Paul adds the vocative, “my brothers and sisters,” which in this letter appears most frequently at transitional points.23

However, as Paul moves toward “what remains,” he does not begin with the primary subject matter, but with its essential theological—and experiential—framework:24 “Rejoice in the Lord.”25 This serves as Paul’s first antidote to their being taken in by the possible attractiveness of the Judaizing option.26 The imperative recalls 2:18 (and 1:25), where the Philippians have been encouraged to rejoice with him in the midst of suffering for Christ’s sake, a joy he trusts will be renewed at the coming of Epaphroditus (2:28). But now, as in the framing imperative in 4:4, their joy is to be found “in the Lord.” As with the Psalmists whose language Paul is using,27 the Lord who saves is both the basis and focus of joy, which in this imperative does not refer to a feeling but an activity. It means to verbalize with praise and singing. The reason for such “rejoicing in the Lord” has to do with knowing him by being found in him (3:8–9). Knowing Christ far surpasses even blameless Torah observance; it is unthinkable that under the pressure of present sufferings they should lose their joy in belonging to Christ by yielding to such observance. As in 2:19 and 24 above, the phrase “in the Lord” refers to the grounds (or sphere) of their present existence, and thus points to their basic relationship with Christ which should eliminate all attraction to mere religion or religious identity symbols that have no future in them at all.28

With that Paul moves toward his second major concern with regard to their present circumstances,29 introduced by the reminder that he is repeating himself, and is doing so out of concern for them. Both the existence of this introductory sentence and its form indicate the degree of Paul’s concern over what follows. He begins with the object, “the same things,”30 in the emphatic first position, followed by a contrastive “on the one hand (regarding me)” and “on the other hand (regarding you),” with the word “safety”31 coming in the emphatic final position. Perhaps anxious lest they take adumbrage over this repetition, he also with a masterful stroke shifts the possibility that such repetition could be “burdensome”32 from them to himself. Such rhetoric is for their benefit, that in their present suffering they not allow Jewish identity markers to become attractive and thus lose their strong grip on future realities already present in Christ and the Spirit.

To be sure, some have seen this sentence as referring to “rejoice in the Lord,”33 but that seems nearly impossible, since (1) “the same things” is plural, not singular, which would be the natural expression if he intended to point to the preceding imperative, (2) this view disregards the asyndeton (see n. 13), which is especially unusual if this were Paul’s intent, and (3) one can imagine any number of adjectives that might serve as reasons for him to repeat the imperative to rejoice, but “for you security” is not one of them, whereas it fits perfectly with the warning and exhortation that follows.34 The view suggested here seems confirmed by the repetition of this idea in v. 18 (“about whom I have told you many times before”). Thus, this sentence sets them up for the warning that follows.35

2 What Paul is about to repeat for their “safety” begins with the threefold warning, “look out for,”36 expressed with powerful rhetoric,37 full of invective and sarcasm against (apparently) Jewish Christians who promote circumcision among Gentile believers.38 It is this sudden outburst of invective, following so closely the imperative to “rejoice in the Lord,” that has caused many to read this as an interruption of some kind. But that is an unnecessary inference, as is the common assumption that these people were actually present in Philippi (see n. 18). In fact, this is warning, pure and simple, which does not require their presence in order to carry weight. That Paul does not mention them again39 would seem to indicate that they are not present—although they surely will have tried their wares in Philippi in times past—and that a present threat of “Judaizing” does not seriously exist.40 The reason for the invective lies with Paul. Such people have been “dogging” him for over a decade,41 and as the strong language of Gal 5:12 and 2 Cor 11:13–15 makes clear,42 he has long ago had it to the bellyful with these “servants of Satan” who think of themselves as “servants of Christ” (2 Cor 11:15, 23).

On the other hand, we miss too much if we think of this language as merely expressing a personal pique. At issue for Paul is Christian existence itself. The concerns are therefore expressed ultimately in experiential and theological language, as the alleged “opponents” fade into the background rather quickly. As with the exhortations in 1:27–2:18, living the gospel in Philippi is what is at stake. This is why he speaks of such repetition as not “burdensome” for him, even though being reminded again of the Judaizers’ activities appears to be irksome.

Thus, as in Galatians and 2 Corinthians, Paul uses epithets that “turn the tables” on them, as to what they think themselves to be about in contrast to what he thinks. First, “look out for the dogs.”43 This metaphor is full of “bite,” since dogs were zoological “low life,” scavengers that were generally detested by Greco-Roman society and considered unclean by Jews, who sometimes used “dog” to designate Gentiles.44 Paul thus reverses the epithet; by trying to make Gentiles “clean” through circumcision, the Judaizers are unclean “dogs.”45

Second, they are “evil doers.”46 The clue to this usage lies in its position between “dogs” and “the mutilation.” Since both of these terms express reversals, it is arguable that this one does as well. If so, then the irony derives from the Psalter’s repeated designation of the wicked as “those who work iniquity.”47 The reason for changing the noun from “iniquity” to “evil” is for the sake of the assonance noted above (n. 37). Such people, Paul proffers, in trying to make Gentiles submit to Torah do not work “righteousness” at all, but evil, just as those in the Psalter work iniquity because they have rejected God’s righteousness, in the sense of showing their relationship to him by walking in his ways.

Third, and changing from the masculine plural to a pejorative description of their activity, Paul warns, “beware the mutilation,” an ironic reference to Gentile circumcision.48 The Greek word for circumcision is peritomē (= to cut around); katatomē, used here, denotes “cutting to pieces,” hence “mutilate.” This word play,49 especially the emphatic “for we are the circumcision” (v. 3), not to mention that Paul begins his testimony with this word—ahead of tribe and people—makes it certain that circumcision is the primary issue between Paul and them. Along with the play on “cutting” in Gal 5:12, where he urges them to “castrate” themselves, this is the ultimate derogation of circumcision, the most “cutting” epithet of all. The cognate verb occurs in Lev 21:5 (LXX), which prohibits priests (who “serve” God) from “cutting” their flesh as pagan priests did (cf. 1 Kgs 18:28). The shift from the people (“dogs, evil workers”) to the activity (“mutilation”) is probably first of all to keep the rhetoric crisp, but in effect it also highlights the activity, which leads directly to the response in v. 3.

This final epithet also serves as evidence that the issue has to do with “righteousness based on Law” (v. 9), which in Paul invariably refers to Torah observance both as a “means to” and “gauge of” righteousness—i.e., being observant is seen as an attempt to secure one’s relationship with God, while at the same time Torah serves as the yardstick to measure performance, and thus that relationship. What is less clear is what these “dogs” expected of Gentile converts. Traditionally, on the basis of centuries of Protestant theology, it has been assumed that they were putting forward Torah observance as a way of getting right with God.50 But there is serious doubt as to whether that would have been their primary intent; after all, these Gentiles are already believers in Christ, as are all those upon whom the Judaizers urge circumcision. Most likely, therefore, at issue for them is Torah observance as evidence of Gentiles’ truly belonging to God’s people and therefore of their genuine obedience to Christ.51 Nonetheless, even though their first interest is in making Jews out of Gentiles, in the sense of securing their place within the Abrahamic covenant, Paul clearly sees through to the ultimate theological consequences for those who would capitulate—that it has the effect of adding a plus factor to grace, and thus of eliminating grace altogether by exchanging it for boasting in “one’s flesh.” This in turn explains why the following argument and illustration from Paul’s personal history takes the form it does.

3 As immediate response to the ironic “mutilation,” Paul asserts: “For52 we [in contrast to what they are trying to get Gentiles to do] are the circumcision [hence you do not need literal circumcision], who serve by the Spirit of God and ‘boast’ in Christ Jesus and put no confidence in the flesh.” Here is a sentence at once full of rhetorical power and theological grist.53 The rhetorical power lies partly in the paronomasia (see n. 49 above) and partly in his choice of a verb from the temple cultus54 to describe what “we” do (see “c” below). The theological grist is to be found in every phrase. This verse, not v. 2, is the principal sentence in the present appeal, whose theology is going to be explicated by means of Paul’s own story in vv. 4–14.

a. The emphatic “we”—not they—by which the sentence begins is the first occurrence of this theological phenomenon in the letter. It is Paul’s regular habit in the middle of an argument to shift from the second or third person to the inclusive first person plural whenever the point shifts to some soteriological reality that includes him as well as his readers.55 Thus, rather than “you” Philippians are the true circumcision, it is “we”—you and us, Gentiles and Jews together—who are such. In this case, of course, the shift in person paves the way toward the “I” of vv. 4–14; but the recurrence of this phenomenon in vv. 15–16 and (especially) vv. 20–21 indicates that it is not simply preparatory here.

b. In saying that “we,” both Jews and Gentiles together who have put our trust in Christ, “are the circumcision,” Paul indicates that the primary issue is not the Philippians’ salvation, but rather the identification of the people of God under the new covenant.56 Lying behind this usage is the theology and intertextuality of a passage like Rom 2:28–29,57 where Paul takes up the promise of Deut 30:6 and turns “Jew” and “Gentile” end for end—in terms of “circumcision of the heart” by the Spirit.58 Now the reason for the rich imagery in Phil 2:14–16 comes into focus, where by a similar reversal the Philippians are seen as “the blameless children of God.” Paul, it needs to be emphasized, knows nothing of a “new” Israel; for him there is only one people of God, who are now newly constituted—quite in keeping with OT promises—on the basis of Christ and the Spirit; and it is by the Spirit in particular that Gentiles have entered into their inheritance of the blessings promised to Abraham (Gal 3:14).

c. Paul first describes the true circumcision as “we who ‘minister’59 by the Spirit of God.”60 The crucial term here is the verb rendered “worship,” which rendering in this case can be quite misleading. Paul’s usage is determined by the LXX, where it is used almost exclusively to denote the Levitical “service” in the temple cultus. Here it stands in ironical contrast to v. 2. “Mutilation” is what those who “served” in the temple cultus were forbidden to do. Now, in contrast to the “workers of iniquity” who are engaged in such illegitimate “service,” Paul says we are the true circumcision, who “serve” by the Spirit, over against serving by the flesh. The verb, therefore, is not the one for “worship” in the sense of what the congregation does together as a gathered people, but represents the “service” of God’s people in terms of their devotion to him as evidenced in the way they live before him. Rather than offer such service by “cutting away the flesh,” so as to be identified with the people of God under the former covenant, the true circumcision live (= “serve”) in Christ by the power of the Spirit. Thus Paul has in view not external rite over against internal “spiritual”61 service, but two ways of existing—in the “flesh,” which he understands as life centered in the creature as over against God, or as the eschatological people of God, evidenced to be so by the Spirit of God, through whom all life in the present is now service and devotion to God.62

Thus, “serve” has to do with “righteousness”—the real thing, which reflects God’s likeness and character in Christian behavior (e.g., looking out for the interests of others, 2:3–4, as modeled by him who revealed God-likeness in emptying himself by taking on the form of a slave, 2:5–7); and such “service,” which is effected in the life of the believer and believing community by God’s own indwelling Spirit, is a million miles removed from “service” in the form of Torah observance. In turning Torah into “laws to be observed” God’s people thus turned them into merely human regulations, missing their intent as revelation of God’s likeness to be lived out among God’s people; hence the need for a circumcision of the heart, effected by the Spirit, to replace that of the “flesh.”

Significantly, Paul qualifies “Spirit” by the genitive “of God.”63 This designation occurs often enough that one should perhaps not make too much of it here—this is who the Spirit is, after all. Nonetheless, since Paul does not often use this qualifier in this construction,64 there is probably more emphasis here than at first meets the eye. Very likely this is a pointed contrast to those who think of themselves as rendering service to the one God both by their own circumcision and by insisting that believing Gentiles offer themselves to God in the same way. True service to God is that which has been engendered by the Spirit of God, where through life in the Spirit the believer thus “boasts in Christ,” who has brought an end to the time of “the flesh.”

d. But if one begins Christian life as an experienced reality of the Spirit, the basis of that life is Christ himself, which in this sentence is expressed in terms recalling Jer 9:23–24:65 “who boast/glory in Christ Jesus.” On the meaning of this word see on 1:26 above. Here again it carries the nuance of “boasting” in the sense of putting one’s full trust and confidence in, and thus to “glory” in. Although the presence of the Spirit functions as Paul’s primary contrast both to “works of Law” and to “the flesh,” in this letter in particular he can scarcely bring himself to speak of Christian existence without mentioning Christ. In the personal word that follows, this is the theme to which he returns in grand style.

God’s new covenant people, therefore, do not need to become Torah observant, precisely because they “boast in Christ Jesus”; they have put their trust in him who has effected God’s true righteousness for them. Thus, Christ Jesus, by death on the cross, has brought them into relationship with God through sheer grace; and the goal of Torah is realized not in their becoming observant but in their walking by God’s Spirit who now indwells them.

e. Finally, and now in contrast both to “boasting in Christ Jesus” and to “serving by the Spirit of God,” he adds the telling blow: “and who put no confidence in the flesh.” This clause is full of irony, Paul’s way of moving from their specific expression of Torah observance (the circumcision of the flesh) to what he recognizes to be the theological implications of Gentiles’ yielding to circumcision. It reflects the similar argument in Gal 3:2–3, where Paul uses “flesh” exactly as here, referring first to the actual “flesh” cut away in circumcision,66 but at the same time as the primary descriptive word of life before and outside of Christ. Thus, as in that passage, “Spirit” and “flesh” stand juxtaposed as eschatological realities that describe existence in the overlap of the ages.67 One lives either “according to the Spirit” or “according to the flesh.” These are mutually incompatible kinds of existence; to be in the one and then to revert to the former is spiritual suicide from Paul’s point of view. And this is where the Judaizers have gone astray; they reject “boasting in the Lord” for “confidence in the flesh.”

Thus with this full description of those who belong to the Israel of God as newly constituted by Christ and the Spirit, Paul sets the Philippians in sharp contrast to what the “mutilation” would do for them. As he will go on to argue by way of personal narrative, there is absolutely no future of any kind in reverting to what is now past, which Christ and the Spirit have brought to an end.

We should note finally the implicit Trinitarianism of this sentence. The true circumcision, thus true righteousness (both one’s relationship with God and behavior that reflects his character), comes from God (v. 9), by whose indwelling Spirit believers now serve him in “righteousness,” who have first of all put their trust in Christ Jesus, who has effected “righteousness” for them. “Righteousness,” of course, is not mentioned in this opening theological sentence; but it is implied in the first clause, “we are the circumcision,” as is evidenced by vv. 6 and 9. The key to that righteousness is here set forth by means of its primary new covenant components—Christ and the Spirit.

4a As a final addendum to the description in v. 3, but also as a lead-in to the personal word that follows, Paul appends: “though68 I myself have reasons for such confidence”—although he actually says it a little more starkly: “though I myself have confidence even69 in the flesh.” What this means will be clarified in the following sentence (vv. 4b-6). We who serve by the Spirit, Paul says, who “boast” in Christ Jesus, have thus abandoned altogether “putting confidence in the flesh”—which by implication is what the Judaizers are bringing Gentiles to by urging circumcision. But, he now concedes, if they want to play that game, then I win there as well, since I excel on their turf, “having [grounds for] confidence even in the flesh.”70 As before, “in the flesh” refers first to the rite of circumcision, but now carries all the theological overtones of trying to have grounds for boasting before God on the basis of human achievement, the ultimate “self-centered” expression of life. And with that he turns to offer, first, the evidence for such a bold statement (vv. 4b-6) and, second, the zero net worth of such “achievement” in light of having come to know Christ and being found in him.

B. THE EXAMPLE OF PAUL (3:4b-14)

What follows the warning and affirmation of vv. 2–3, though untypical of the Paul we meet in his earlier letters, fits the present letter well: he offers his personal story as a paradigm for them to follow.1 In the process many of his basic theological convictions find expression in terms of his own experience of them. This unusual form of “argumentation” is predicated altogether on the secure relationship that exists between him and them.2 It also further indicates that this section is not an interruption or digression, but a purposeful part of the letter, and that v. 1 intentionally introduces it. These are Paul’s close friends, who know his gospel well from years of association with him. Such sharing of the gospel would undoubtedly have included warnings against those who might come to them with a “different gospel,” insisting on Torah observance. Since Paul has gone over this ground with them often before, his own example is sufficient here: “I’ve been there,” he reminds them, “and it is a dead end, offering neither life nor fellowship with Christ. Indeed, it has no future at all; whereas ‘knowing Christ’ means to ‘be found’; it means fellowship with him now and being with him forever.” Fellowship with Christ now, of course, also means participation in his sufferings, made possible through the power of his resurrection.

The narrative can be easily traced. It begins with his former “advantages” within Judaism, which in his case far outstrip any that could be exhibited by those who might come to them (4–6); but this “gain” turns out to be total “loss,” mere “refuse,” in comparison with the ultimate “gain,” that of being found in Christ, possessing God’s righteousness made available through Christ—now and at the end—and thus knowing him (7–9). But the sentence concludes on a surprising note, reminding them that such life in Christ includes present suffering as well as future glory (10–11), which leads to the conclusion of the story, that the future, which has come present in Christ and the Spirit, is also still future and is fully worthy of vigorous pursuit (12–14).3

The “why” of all this is more difficult, since both vv. 12–14 and the transitional vv. 10–11 seem so poorly related to vv. 4–9. The first part (vv. 4–9) clearly flows out of, and seems intended to respond to, the warning and affirmation of vv. 2–3. The transitional clause (vv. 10–11), which reiterates the theme of “knowing Christ” from v. 8, moves in an unexpected direction, returning to the theme of present suffering (“being conformed to his death”) while awaiting future resurrection. Picking up on “the resurrection,” the second part (vv. 12–14) focuses on a second recurring theme, steadfast “pressing on” so as to realize the certain future. At issue is how these various parts relate to each other, and to the letter as a whole; especially so since the application that follows, including the appeal to imitate him (vv. 15–4:1), climaxes explicitly on the theme of vv. 12–14—their “standing fast” (4:1) in light of their guaranteed future, when they will be transformed into (by “being conformed to”) Christ’s present glorified existence (3:21).

Most likely the reason for this narrative is twofold: (1) to reiterate his gospel, which they know well, but now by way of his own personal history and in light of the warning in v. 2—apparently a theological “diagnostic”; and (2) using that same story to return to twin urgencies that recur throughout: (a) that they “hang in there” in the midst of present suffering, indeed that they see their suffering for what it is—God’s way of “conforming” them to Christ’s death—and (b) that they not lose their grip on their certain future. In view of how the passage concludes (3:17–4:1), the latter two issues seem to be the primary concern, for which the first part of the story serves as the theological ground. This is what it means to “know Christ”: it means not to look elsewhere for “advantages” of any kind, but to be found in him, and thus to participate in his sufferings in the present, in the full light of our certain eschatological future in which we will be finally “conformed” to his present glory.

1. There Is No Future to the Past (3:4b-6)

4bIf others think they have reasons to put confidence in the flesh, I have more: 5circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; in regard to the law, a Pharisee; 6as for zeal, persecuting the church; as for legalistic righteousness, faultless.

With this opening paragraph Paul sets forth his former advantages, what was at one time on the “gain” side of the ledger. After an opening sentence that insists on the superior quality of his “status” as a Jew, he illustrates that superiority with a list of seven items, six of which indicate different ways in which he “excelled.” Not surprisingly, given vv. 2–3, he begins with circumcision, then moves on to his membership in the ancient people of God, including his tribal origins; he is “a Hebrew of Hebrews,” which can be demonstrated in three observable ways, concluding with the declaration, “blameless, according to the righteousness found in the law.”

Little is new here.4 What is surprising—for this list—is the inclusion of “persecuting the church,” plus the final assertion of blamelessness as to the Law. From a sociological point of view, what is reiterated here are items that indicate “status.” But the final two (and very likely, therefore, his being a Pharisee as well) indicate “achievement”; so the interest is not simply in what was given to him by birth, but in what he himself did so as rightly to be designated “a Hebrew of Hebrews.” All of this, he will go on, amounts to nothing more than “refuse” in comparison with knowing Christ, which by implication means “no Torah observance.” The future, therefore, is not to be found in taking on Jewish identity; in other words, the future does not lie in his religious past.

4b This sentence basically reiterates the preceding addendum to v. 3. It is at once ironical and theological. Even if they did not intend it to be so, putting “confidence in the flesh” is what the Judaizers are all about; not only can Paul play that game—as he has just asserted (v. 4a)—but now, he goes on, “I can play it better than they can.”5 My credentials with regard to Jewish identity are impeccable; indeed, in comparison with their grounds for confidence in the flesh, “I have more.”6

Some have seen the protasis of this sentence as indicating the presence of Judaizers among them.7 But that is not a necessary inference; more likely, even though Judaizers serve as immediate background, this is Paul’s way of giving perspective to any in Philippi who, because of present suffering, might be tempted to lean this way. After all, in several of the following items, the Judaizers could also boast; Paul’s concern in offering his personal testimony is to warn the Philippians against them (= “to write the same things again is for your safety,” v. 1b).

5–6 What follows is a catalogue of seven items that illustrate the foregoing assertion:

(1) “Circumcised on the eighth day.”8 Paul leads with this particular item, not with the next two, for obvious contextual reasons. The Judaizers insist on Gentile circumcision, so that in keeping with Gen 17:3–14 Gentile believers in Christ can also identify with God’s ancient people in keeping with the Abrahamic covenant. Thus Paul, who through Christ and the Spirit belongs now to the circumcision, begins here: as a Jewish boy, born into a Jewish home, I was “circumcised on the eighth day”; that is, “I received circumcision long before any of you in Philippi had even heard about Christ and the gospel.”9

(2) “Of the people10 of Israel.”11 Here is the crucial item. What the Judaizers hope to achieve by Gentile circumcision is to bring them into the privileges of belonging to God’s ancient people, “Israel’s race.” Paul had been given this privilege by birth.

(3) “Of the tribe of Benjamin.” The reason for this one is almost certainly for effect. Gentiles could become members only of Israel; his membership was of a kind whereby he could trace his family origins. He belonged to the tribe of Benjamin, that favored tribe from whom came his namesake Saul, Israel’s first king, the tribe blessed by Moses as “the beloved of the Lord … whom the Lord loves [and who] rest between his shoulders” (Deut 33:12), in whose territory sat the Holy City itself. They were also notable because they alone joined Judah in loyalty to the Davidic covenant.12 It is not difficult to hear a ring of pride in this little reminder,13 which then calls for the next designation.

(4) “A Hebrew of Hebrews.” This is the “swing” term, summing up the preceding three, and setting the stage for the final three. He was in every way a “Hebrew, born of pure Hebrew stock.” The appellation “Hebrews” appears to be a term Jews used of themselves, especially in the Diaspora in contrast to Gentiles.14 That the two terms (“Hebrews, Israelites”) occur together in 2 Cor 11:22 in reference to Jewish Christian opponents (probably Judaizers) supports the contention that those warned about in v. 2 are Judaizers as well.

(5) “In regard to the Law, a Pharisee.” This is in keeping with the data recorded in Acts 23:6–9 and 26:5 and with Paul’s own word in Gal 1:14, that he had advanced in Judaism far beyond his contemporaries, being “extremely zealous for the traditions of his ancestors.” Again, as the reminiscence in Gal 1:14 makes clear, this was another area of personal pride for him. The reason for mentioning this feature of his history is at least threefold: (a) It defines his relationship to the Law in a very specific way, as belonging to the Jewish sect who had given themselves to its study and codification. (b) The combined evidence of Matt 23:15 and Acts 15:5 suggests that any Jewish Christians who came to Philippi to promote Torah observance on the part of Gentiles would most likely also belong to this sect. (c) It gives the framework for understanding the next two items.

(6) “As for zeal, persecuting the church.”15 Whereas for us this may sound like a strange matter to include as “grounds for confidence in the flesh,” for Paul it regularly served to heighten the contrast between his present “enslavement” to Christ and his former zeal against him.16 He was not just your everyday, run-of-the-mill Pharisee; his zeal for the Law17 was demonstrated most surely by his untiring dedication to stamping out the nascent Christian movement, probably related to his conviction that God had especially cursed Jesus by having him hanged (Gal 3:13; Deut 21:23). In their own way, his Judaizing opponents are also persecuting the church; but Paul surpasses them even here. Is this also a way of emphasizing for the Philippians’ hearing, and in light of his and their present suffering, that he himself once stood on the other side on this issue? If so, there is a bit of irony in this usage as well.

(7) “As to righteousness in the Law, blameless.” This final item brings the catalogue to its climax; everything else is pointing here.18 But it is also the item that has generated long debates among later readers, since it seems to contradict what Paul says elsewhere about one’s ability to keep the Law. The key to the present usage lies at three points—the term “righteousness,” the qualifier “in the Law,” and the word “faultless”19—which together indicate that he is referring to Torah observance understood as observable conduct.

To begin with the final item, the key to “faultless” lies with the cultic overtones of this word (cf. 2:15). Paul has no “blemishes” on his record, as far as Torah observance is concerned,20 which means that he scrupulously adhered to the pharisaic interpretation of the Law, with its finely honed regulations for sabbath observance, food laws, and ritual cleanliness. His former blamelessness in these matters makes his Christian pronouncements on these items all the more telling.21

This means that “righteousness” in this context does not refer to God’s character or to the gift of right standing with God, but precisely as he qualifies it, that “righteousness” which is “in the Law.” Although “the Law” cannot always be so narrowly defined in Paul, here he is probably referring to matters of “food and drink” and “the observance of days,” since, along with circumcision, these are the two items regularly singled out whenever discussion of Torah observance emerges in his letters.22 Both the narrative that follows (vv. 8–9) and Rom 14:17 make it clear that for Paul true “righteousness” goes infinitely beyond these matters; indeed, the Kingdom of God has nothing at all to do with “food and drink” but with righteousness (!), peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit. What makes the present kind of righteousness so worthless is that it generates “confidence in the flesh”; it is “my own righteousness—my own achievement—predicated on Torah observance” (v. 9), which stands in stark contrast to the “righteousness that comes from God predicated on faith.” But the present usage also indicates, as argued in 1:11, that the concern for “righteousness” in this passage is not ultimately with “right standing,” but with “right living.”

Paul’s present point, of course, is not his sinlessness, but his being without fault in the kind of righteousness that Judaizers would bring one to, by insisting on Torah observance. But what has that to do with righteousness at all, is his point. He has excelled here, he says, and found it empty and meaningless; hence he insists for the Philippians’ benefit that there is “no future in it.”

A passage like this one, especially in light of Paul’s language of renunciation in vv. 7–8, should perhaps call into question both the confusion of Christian faith with pride in nation and the various brands of “religiousness” and legalism that variously abound. Confusion of being Christian with being a member of a given nation has a long history in the church; it is one of the pernicious bequests of the conversion of Constantine, which plagues not only officially “Christian” states, but perhaps even more insidiously a country like the United States, where the American flag often holds pride of place in Christian sanctuaries and where patriotic holidays are sometimes the more significant days in the American church calendar.

Equally pernicious is the pride of those who have defined godliness in terms of “food and drink and the observance of days,” who still maintain distinctions between “clean and unclean,” although variously defined. To be able to claim that one does not indulge in such “sins” is a badge of honor in many circles. Likewise for those who define righteousness in terms of “church”—rites, sacraments, forms—rather than in terms of “knowing Christ.” Paul has not given up his heritage, nor is he against “form” of various kinds. What for him is “refuse” is to “put confidence in them,” as if righteousness had anything to do with such. And if that seems too strong for some readers, at least that gives one an opportunity to sense the passion fellow Israelites would have felt toward Paul. Our problem in hearing this text lies with our ability to distance ourselves too easily from their passions, which Paul is treading on in this passage with characteristic single-mindedness. None of these things has anything at all to do with “knowing Christ,” he will go on to say.

2. The Future Lies with the Present—Knowing Christ (3:7–11)

7But1 whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. 8What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ 9and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ—the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith. 10I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the2 fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, 11and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead.

With engaging rhetoric,3 Paul now revises the balance sheet, reversing “gain” and “loss” in light of his experience of Christ. He begins with a simple sentence of renunciation, echoing earlier language in the letter4 and setting up the word plays that follow. “What things were gains to me,” he affirms, “these things I have come to consider loss because of Christ Jesus my Lord.” The rest of the paragraph is a single sentence, which begins by spelling out the “gain/loss” metaphor in light of “Christ,” and concludes by explaining what it means for him to “gain Christ.” The best way to see what is going on is by means of a structural display, again “translating” the Greek very literally (and picking up with the end of v. 6):5

(a)

6bAs to the righteousness in the Law, faultless.

(b)

7What things

were for me

gain

These things

I consider

loss(b)

(c)

because of

CHRIST.

8aWhat is more

All things

I consider to be

loss(b)

because of the surpassing worth

(d)

of KNOWING

CHRIST JESUS my LORD(c)

8bbecause of WHOM(c)

All things

I

have

lost(b)

and

consider refuse

8cin order that

I

might

gain(b) CHRIST(c)

9and

be found

in HIM(c)

not having

my own righteousness (a)

which is based on [ek] Law

but

that which is

through faith in CHRIST(c)

the

righteousness (a)

from [ek] God

based on [epi] faith

10so as

to

KNOW(d)

HIM(c)

A

both the

power

of HIS resurrection(c)

B

and participation

in HIS sufferings(c)

(e)

B′

being conformed

to HIS DEATH(c)

A′

11if somehow I might attain

the resurrection

which is from the dead

The renunciation in v. 7 sets forth the leading themes of the whole—the “gain-loss” metaphor and its reason, “because of Christ.” The elaborating sentence that follows is basically in four parts:

(1) The opening clause (8a) serves as the “theme sentence” for the rest of the sentence-turned-paragraph; it basically repeats v. 7b, with “because of Christ” now taking the form of “knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.”

(2) This is repeated again in v. 8b in the form of relative clause, which now begins with “because of whom” and then repeats for the final time the motif of “the loss of all [former] things,” punctuating with an earthy exclamation point, “refuse.” That much goes easily enough, as far as grammar is concerned; but not so with the final two clauses, toward which these opening affirmations are pointed.

(3) The first goal of the “loss because of Christ” theme is expressed in a twin purpose clause, “in order that I might gain Christ (8c), that is, be found in him” (9), which is then elaborated by taking up the theme of “righteousness” and “Law” from v. 6b and setting it in contrast to the righteousness that God has provided through Christ; the “when” of this clause is less certain, but most likely looks to the future, while presupposing the present. With that the themes of “righteousness” and “Law” disappear altogether.

(4) The final purpose clause (vv. 10–11), whose grammar is also uncertain, is best understood as modifying vv. 8c–9; it thus concludes the sentence by returning to the theme of “knowing Christ” in v. 8b, putting that into the larger context of the letter by stressing the themes of suffering and future resurrection, set forth in a chiasmus (A B B′ A′).

In getting to the ultimate goal expressed in vv. 10–11, the narrative moves in a kind of circular fashion, anticipating later themes while echoing and repeating present themes. Thus, the themes of “righteousness” and “Law” (a), which on the basis of vv. 2–3 and 4–6 would seem to be the main point, appear only in v. 9, as a kind of “framing” motif around the newly expressed theme of “loss” and “gain” (b) found in vv. 7–8, which is repeated in several forms before Paul lets go of it. Meanwhile, the theme of “knowing Christ” (d) is mentioned in the middle of the “loss/gain” word play (v. 8a), to be picked up again as the main point in the final clause (vv. 10–11). But knowing Christ is a two-sided reality, including both suffering and resurrection. Hence Paul expresses present suffering as “being conformed (summorphizomenos) to his death,” which word he then picks up at the end (v. 21) to describe what happens to “the bodies of our present humiliation” when they are raised; they will “be conformed (summorphon) to the body of his present glory.”

But in all of this the central theme is Christ (c), who is the heart of everything from beginning to end: former advantages are now considered “loss” because of “gaining” Christ; indeed, they are “street refuse” in comparison with the “surpassing worth of knowing Christ,” through whom true righteousness, righteousness from God, has now been made available; and this so that Paul might “know” Christ by participating in Christ’s suffering in the present through the power of his resurrection, which includes “being conformed to Christ’s death” while awaiting “being conformed to his glorified body” at the resurrection (v. 21).

Two further observations. First, this analysis suggests that v. 9, which emphasizes what it means “to be found in him” positionally, serves primarily as the ground for vv. 10–11: the aim of everything is “to know Christ” relationally, both the (present) power of his resurrection (A) and the fellowship of his sufferings (B), “being conformed to his death” (B′) so as to realize the future dimension of the former (“attaining the resurrection from the dead” A′). Since “pressing on to attain” the latter is the theme picked up in the rest of the narrative (vv. 12–14) as well as in the application that follows (vv. 15–21), and since the theme of “righteousness” appears early on only to disappear as the narrative unfolds, it seems highly likely that the latter theme (“righteousness”) exists primarily for the sake of theme of “knowing Christ.” This is not to downplay either the warning of v. 2 or the contrasts and theological affirmations of vv. 4–6 and 7–9; but it is to suggest that the emphasis in vv. 1–4a is precisely where we suggested them to be—on the Philippians’ “continually rejoicing in the Lord” because their common experience (with Paul) of Christ and the Spirit has removed them forever from Torah observance. Indeed, the righteousness they have already received in Christ serves as the theological ground for their “knowing Christ” in the way they are now experiencing, even if it involves suffering.

Second, even though the content differs considerably, both the linguistic echoes and the general “form” of the narrative seem intentionally designed to recall the Christ narrative in 2:6–11.6 While Christ did not consider God-likeness to accrue to his own advantage, but “made himself nothing,” so Paul now considers his former “gain” as “loss” for the surpassing worth of knowing Christ. As Christ was “found” in “human likeness,” Paul is now “found in Christ,” knowing whom means to be “conformed” (echoing the morphē of a slave, 2:7) to his death (2:8). Finally, as Christ’s humiliation was followed by God’s “glorious” vindication of him, so present “suffering” for Christ’s sake will be followed by “glory” in the form of resurrection. As he has appealed to the Philippians to do, Paul thus exemplifies Christ’s “mindset,” embracing suffering and death. This is what it means “to know Christ,” to be “found in him” by means of his gift of righteousness; and as he was raised and exalted to the highest place, so Paul and the Philippian believers, because they are now “conformed to Christ” in his death, will also be “conformed” to his glory.

This is one of the truly “surpassing” moments in the Pauline corpus; it would be a tragedy if its splendor were lost in analysis. Finally, therefore, one should go back and read it again and again, until what one learns in the analysis is absorbed in praise and worship over the “surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus our Lord.” The future does not lie in the past, but in the future, and it is guaranteed precisely because it has already come present through Christ’s death, to which we are presently being conformed, and his resurrection, whose power we know now and will realize fully at our resurrection.

7 With striking asyndeton,7 but no less bold contrast, Paul renounces his former advantages, those “gifts” and “achievements” which qualify him above others to have “confidence in the flesh.” “Because of8 Christ,” Paul declares, “whatever things9 were gains for me, these very things I have come to consider loss.” But this is said with flair. “Whatever things” and its accompanying demonstrative, “these things,” occupy the emphatic first position in their respective clauses, while the contrasting “gain” and “loss” occupy the emphatic final position. Thus:

Whatever things	were for me		gains,
These very things	I consider	because of Christ	loss

What is being renounced in particular, as v. 9 makes clear, is his “blamelessness as to the righteousness in the law.” Still in view is the warning against succumbing to Jewish identity symbols, which now are shown by way of personal example to be quite unrelated to righteousness.

The renunciation is expressed in the language of the marketplace, “gains” (“profit,” NIV) and “loss.” As v. 8c indicates, the word “gains”10 harks back to 1:21, where “to die is gain” refers to “gaining Christ” through death.11 The present usage is a clear play on the metaphor. Paul’s former “profits” are now collectively a “loss”12 because of his ultimate “gain,” Christ himself. While he cannot renounce—nor does he wish to13—what was given to him by birth (circumcision, being a member of Israel’s race, of the tribe of Benjamin, born of true Hebrew stock), he does renounce them as grounds for boasting, along with his achievements that expressed his zeal for the Law. Hence the significance of his use of the verb, “I have come to consider14 them as loss,” rather than a simple affirmation, “what things were gain are now loss,” which would have been both imprecise and misleading.

8a-b With an emphatic, “not only so, but what is more,”15 Paul sets out to explain the “how so” of the renunciation of v. 7. He begins with a “thesis sentence,” which reiterates v. 7b in grand and expansive language: “I consider16 all things to be loss”—not just the advantages enumerated in vv. 5–6—but all things, “because of the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.” This is a reprise on the theme struck in 1:21, “for to me to live is Christ.” What “all things” entails is not immediately apparent; it includes the former “gains” of vv. 5–6, but it implies more (see n. 9). Everything that others might consider to have value in the present age—religious advantages, status, material benefits, honor, comforts17—these appear to him as nothing at all, as total “loss,” in comparison with Christ.

But in this case, it is not simply “because of Christ” that he considers all things as loss, but “because of18 the surpassing greatness19 of knowing20 Christ Jesus my Lord.” This piling up of genitives has as its ultimate goal “knowing Christ Jesus my Lord,” which so far surpasses all other things in value that their net worth is zero; they are a total loss. As v. 10 will clarify, “knowing Christ” does not mean to have head knowledge about him, but to “know him” personally (BAGD) and relationally. Paul has thus taken up the Old Testament theme of “knowing God”21 and applied it to Christ. It means to know him as children and parent know each other, or wives and husbands—knowledge that has to do with personal experience and intimate relationship. It is such knowledge that makes Christ “trust-worthy.” The intimacy will be expressed in v. 10 in terms of “participation in his sufferings.” In the light of such expansive language, therefore, the object of his “knowing” is not simply “Christ,” nor even “Christ Jesus,” but “Christ Jesus my Lord.”

Here is the evidence of intimacy and devotion. Paul regularly refers to Christ with the full title and name, “our Lord, Jesus Christ”; only here does he reverse the order and substitute the first person singular pronoun. The “Christ Jesus,” because of whom he gladly considers all else to be loss, is none other than “my Lord.” The reason for such devotion and longing is not expressed here, but it rings forth clearly in Gal 2:20, “who loved me and gave himself for me.” This is not simply coming to know the deity—it is that, of course—but even more so, it is to know the one whose love for Paul, expressed in the cross and in his arrest on the Damascus road, has transformed the former persecutor of the church into Christ’s “love slave,” whose lifelong ambition is to “know him” in return, and to love him by loving his people. There is something unfortunate about a cerebral Christianity that “knows” but does not “know” in this way.

One more time, like a composer giving his theme yet another variation, Paul repeats: “because of whom22 I have lost all things and consider them rubbish.” The first element in these two clauses is straight repetition, with the verb “suffer loss” now replacing the noun. But the second element catches us by surprise, expressing as it does the depth of feeling Paul had for those who would “advantage” his Gentile converts with what is so utterly worthless. The word translated “rubbish”23 is well attested as a vulgarity, referring to excrement (hence “dung” in the KJV); on the other hand, it is also well attested to denote “refuse,” especially of the kind that was thrown out for the dogs to forage through.24 Although it could possibly mean “dung” here,25 more likely Paul is taking a parting shot at the “dogs” in v. 2,26 especially since he uses language very much like this in 1 Cor 4:13 to refer to all that is off-scouring and refuse.27 A translation like “filth” (NJB) perhaps captures both the ambiguity and vulgarity. In either case, it is hard to imagine a more pejorative epithet than this one now hurled at what the Judaizers would promote as advantages. Paul sees them strictly as disadvantages, as total loss, indeed as “foul-smelling street garbage” fit only for “dogs.”

8c–9 Paul expresses the goal of his “revising the balance sheet” with two verbs: “in order that I may gain Christ, that is,28 be found in him.” The first verb completes the metaphor—by turning v. 7 on its head: What was gain is now considered loss because of true gain, Christ himself. Paul now implies that the gaining of Christ requires the loss of all former things, because to be rich in Christ means to be rich in him alone, not in him plus in other gains. For Paul it is a theological truism that grace and self-confidence are in radical antithesis; grace plus anything cancels out grace. On the other hand, despite Paul’s way of putting it, which has been determined by the context, neither is there any sense of calculation, as though he were setting about in a crass way to “gain” eternal life and eventually settled on Christ as the means to that goal. In Paul’s case, the “gain” came first, and came in such a way that the rest fell away as utter “refuse” in comparison.29

The second verb (“be found”), along with its participial modifier (“not having a righteousness of my own”), elaborates what it means to “gain Christ,” contrasting his new experience of “righteousness” with that noted in v. 6, which is now “loss” and “street filth.” But how we are to understand this little “meteorite from Romans” is not as easy as describing it.

First, when does Paul expect this “gaining” and “being found” to take place? The answer lies with Paul’s “already but not yet” eschatological perspective (cf. vv. 10–11 that follow), which determines his existence in Christ and serves as the basic framework for all of this theological thinking.30 On the one hand, the first point of reference is almost certainly future, looking to the “day of Christ” mentioned in 1:6, 10 and 2:16. Such an understanding fits the future orientation both of the immediate context (vv. 11–14) and of the letter as a whole (see on 1:6).31 On the other hand, the modifying participial clause (“having righteousness”) is oriented toward the present, as is the final purpose clause (vv. 10–11), which is grammatically dependent on the present clause.

Thus, in keeping with the urgency of this passage, with its concluding emphasis on the “not yet realized” future toward which he—and hopefully they with him—are striving, Paul uses his own story as the paradigm for looking to the future on the basis of the “presence of the future” found in the righteousness that Christ has provided. He expects to “gain Christ and be found32 in him” on the day of Christ, precisely because this is already his experience of Christ.

Second, where Paul is now “found”—and expects to be at the end—is “in Christ.”33 He now lives in fellowship with Christ, who is both the source of this new life and the sphere in which it is lived. Having put his trust “in Christ Jesus” (v. 3), Paul is thus “found in Christ,” who has given him a righteousness that turns blameless Torah observance into “street garbage.”

The participial construction which elaborates this point is a piece of art. It is first expressed in a typical “not/but” contrast, the “not” referring back to Paul’s faultless “Torah observant righteousness” in v. 6, the “but” offering the new expression of righteousness, “through faith in Christ Jesus.” Together they form a three-part phrase:

I. a			not having my own righteousness
	b			that comes from the law,
		c			but that which is through faith in Christ

which is then repeated in an appositional phrase with the same three parts, the first two “lines” now reflecting the counterpoints to the former phrase:34

II. a			the righteousness
	b			that comes from God,
		c			which is based on faith.

That much is easy; some of the parts are less so: especially (a) the nuance of “righteousness”;35 (b) the contrasts “from law/from God”; and (c) the phrase “through faith in Christ.”

About “righteousness” Paul makes four affirmations: to gain Christ means (1) to be done with “my own righteousness” which (2) is ek nomou (from/predicated on law); this new righteousness (3) is “the from God (ek theou) righteousness,” which (4) is Paul’s “through faith in Christ.” The difficulty stems from the first phrase, “not having my own righteousness based on law,” which picks up on v. 6, where “righteousness” denotes “upright behavior”; yet in the rest of the present sentence “righteousness” seems to refer to one’s relationship with God.36

The key lies in the context, especially in vv. 3–4, where in contrast to those who insist on Gentile circumcision Paul asserts that those of the true circumcision “boast in Christ Jesus and put no confidence in the flesh.” Thus, despite the way the clause begins, Paul’s stress is not primarily on “right living”—that will come next—but on the predicate of such living.37 At issue, one must remember, is the circumcision of Gentile believers. But in this argument Paul has theologically transmuted circumcision from an ethnic-religious identity symbol, whereby in obedience to Torah Gentiles become full members of the covenantal people of God, into a means to and an expression of “righteousness.”38 However, it is a thoroughly useless expression of righteousness—indeed, “foul-smelling street garbage”—and therefore no means to righteousness at all, because it not only makes an end run around Christ Jesus but puts confidence in the symbol, mere flesh, rather than in the reality. Circumcision—and all other forms of Torah observance—means to “boast” in human achievement; and its “blamelessness” is expressed in ways that count for nothing at all. One is thus neither righteous in the sense of being rightly related to God nor righteous in the sense of living rightly as an expression of that relationship.

Thus Paul’s concern for the Philippians. He warns them once more against the Judaizers who would forever try to make them “religious.” There is no future in it, he tells them. But his greater concern is with their current behavior, in two directions: (1) that their love for one another will increase (1:9), as they learn in humility to consider the needs of others to be more important than their own (2:3–4)—just as Christ demonstrated by his death on the cross (2:5–8); and (2) that they learn to “rejoice in the Lord” even in the midst of their present suffering (2:17–18; cf. 3:1, 10–11), so that “conformed to Christ in his death” (v. 10b) they might also be “conformed to him” in his resurrection (v. 21).

To make these points he continues his personal story with this description of what it means to be “found in Christ”; it means to have a “righteousness” absolutely antithetical to that promoted by those who belong to the past, who think of relationship with God in terms of Torah observance.39 Such “righteousness” is nothing more than “a righteousness of my own40 that is ek nomou (lit., ‘from law’).” Even though this phrase stands in formal contrast to ek theou (“from God”), here it probably expresses not the “source” of the righteousness emphatically described as “of my own,” in the sense of its “proceeding from the law,” but Torah observance as the basis for it—as in vv. 3–6. Hence the NAB, “based on observance of the law.”41

In contrast to that, Paul has now experienced righteousness of a radically different kind, a new relationship with God that has come ek theou—“from God.” This, of course, is what the Judaizers also believe about their righteousness. But Paul sees through such covenantal identity symbols: the Judaizers have trivialized righteousness by making one’s relationship with God rest ultimately on observance, on the performance of religious trivia; the latter have nothing at all to do with a “right” relationship with the “righteous” God, as that is further demonstrated in “right living” of a kind that reflects his character.

Paul’s primary concern in this sentence, however, is with “righteousness” as reflecting one’s (right) relationship with God. Such a relationship is “through42 faith in Christ,” a phrase that is shorthand for “by grace through faith,”43 where Christ’s death is the way God has graciously expressed his love in our behalf, which is realized by those who fully trust him to have so loved and accepted them—warts and all. Or at least that seems most likely Paul’s point, despite a growing number of interpreters who think this phrase means “through Christ’s [own] faith[fulness],” thus referring to what Christ has done for us on the cross in faithful obedience to God.44

While there is a certain theological attractiveness to this option—particularly since it would then refer back to the narrative in 2:6–8—it seems unlikely that Paul intended such here, for a number of contextual reasons, quite beyond those of usage already noted (n. 44): (a) It is altogether unlikely that in the second occurrence of “faith” in this sentence,45 Paul intends “based on Christ’s faithfulness.”46 As noted, this second clause basically repeats the first, in slightly different language, so as to reinforce its point; and there is simply no analogy for “based on faith” to refer to Christ’s activity, rather than ours. (b) In the present sentence Paul’s emphasis is between “my own righteousness” and that which is “through faith,” which makes more sense as referring to Paul’s faith rather than to Christ’s faithful obedience. (c) In the letter to this point, Paul has expressed concern about the Philippians’ “faith” in the context of suffering. They have “not only believed in Christ, but have been graced with suffering” (1:29), and their suffering, expressed in the sacrificial metaphor of sacrifice, is the result of their “faith” (2:17). Since the present passage reflects a similar context (vv. 10–11), it seems likely that the “faith” that leads to righteousness also leads to “the participation in Christ’s sufferings” in the next clause.

Thus, as usual in Paul, the contrast is between “works” and “faith,” not so much referring to forensic “justification”47—there is no hint here (including vv. 3–6) of a juridical setting, and therefore of God’s “justification” of those who have “broken the law”—but referring to the means to and expression of one’s relationship with God. Such righteousness comes “from God,” he insists, in contrast to being “my own” predicated on the law. And it has been made available through Christ, in whom Paul is now “found” and in whom he “boasts,” hence it is “through faith in Christ.”

10–11 Returning to the theme of “knowing Christ Jesus my Lord,” Paul concludes this long sentence (from v. 8) with a final purpose clause, now offering the primary reason for the rehearsal of his story. In keeping with Paul’s OT roots, “knowing Christ” is the ultimate goal of being in right relationship with God; and “knowing Christ” is both “already” and “not yet.”48 Because of the righteousness Christ has effected for his people, we know him now, both the power of his resurrection and participation in his sufferings; but the ultimate “prize,” to have present knowledge of him fully realized, awaits resurrection. This, then, is the decisive word over against those who would bring the Philippians under the old covenant. Obedience under that covenant could issue in blameless Torah observance, but it lacked the necessary power—the gift of the eschatological Spirit (v. 3) who alone brings life (2 Cor 3:6)—to enable God’s people truly to know him and thus bear his likeness (being “conformed to Christ’s death,” that is, living a cruciform existence—which is true “righteousness” in the “right living” sense).

Before looking at the parts, some grammatical and structural matters need resolution. First, the precise relationship of this clause to vv. 8–9 is not certain. It is possibly coordinate with the preceding clause (“that I may gain Christ and be found in him”),49 in which case Paul is offering a twofold reason for “suffering the loss of all things and considering them street garbage”: first, that he might gain Christ and be found in him, having the new righteousness provided by Christ; second, that he might know him, including the power of his resurrection and participation in his sufferings. Far more likely, however, in light of the grammar, the first clause presents the penultimate purpose and thus the ground for the ultimate purpose of “knowing Christ.”50 The latter, of course, cannot exist without the former; but in terms of the goal of life in Christ, everything points toward our present and future knowing of Christ. Thus:

in order that
	I	might gain Christ
			and
		be found in him
				having the righteousness that is from God based on
						faith in Christ
			so that
					I may know him etc.

“the power of his resurrection and participation in his sufferings” are related to the verb “know” and its object “him.” It is possible, as the NIV, to see a threefold object—him, the power of his resurrection, participation in his sufferings—the latter two coordinated with the first by the double kai (“and”).51 But more likely Paul intends the first kai to be epexegetic, so that the phrases explain, or give content to, what “knowing Christ” means.52 Thus:

either:	so that I may know him,
		both the	power of his resurrection
		and	participation in his sufferings
or:	so that I may know him,
		that is, the	power of his resurrection
				and
			participation in his sufferings53

This option is preferable since it coordinates the elements that are truly coordinate and makes better sense of how these two items from elsewhere in the letter function in the present narrative. Indeed, these are the surprising matters in this final clause, since we are so poorly prepared for them here; but in light of the whole letter, they are scarcely surprising, since concern for the Philippians’ remaining steadfast (with a keen eye to the future) in the midst of present suffering is a primary reason for the letter.54 Moreover, the emphasis on the future is what gets the larger billing in what follows.

Third, as pointed out in the structural analysis (p. 313), the four modifiers of the verb are expressed in perfect chiasm, emphasizing in turn Christ’s resurrection and sufferings and how Paul participates in both of them. Thus:

		so that I may know him
A			both the power of his resurrection
	B			and participation in his sufferings
	B′			being conformed to his death
A′			if somehow I might attain the resurrection from the dead

The forcefulness of this structure lies in lines A-A′, as they surround the B lines. In turn they point (1) to Christ’s resurrection (line A)—as the means whereby Paul is enabled to endure suffering (line B); and (2) to Paul’s resurrection as the eschatological issue of such suffering (A′)—as the latter is a portrayal of the Crucified One (B′).

On the meaning and significance of “knowing Christ” see on v. 8. We repeat here only that it implies intimate relationship. However, “knowing intimately” is not a form of mysticism, as the concrete appositional phrases that follow make clear.55 The “intimacy” comes in the B lines, where Paul sees present suffering as a participation in Christ’s suffering, as Paul’s way of being conformed into Christ’s likeness, whose “obedience unto death, even death on a cross” (2:8) is the ultimate paradigm of all Christian life.

As to the four lines:

(A) To know Christ now means first of all to know “the power of his resurrection,” that is, the power that comes to believers on the basis of Christ’s resurrection. Along with the gift of the eschatological Spirit, it was the resurrection of Christ that radically altered Paul’s (and the early church’s) understanding of present existence—as both “already” and “not yet.” In Jewish eschatological expectations these two events, above all, would mark the beginning of God’s final wrapup. Very early on the church recognized that the Resurrection (Christ’s) had already set the future in motion. Paul in particular saw the implications of this reality, which are spelled out in some detail in 1 Corinthians 15. The resurrection of Jesus, he argues there, makes our future resurrection both necessary and inevitable: necessary, because even though death has been de-fanged as it were, it still remains as God’s and our final enemy, but it will cease to be with our resurrection; and inevitable, because Christ’s resurrection set something in motion as “first-fruits” that guarantees the final harvest. Precisely because of the latter (Christ’s resurrection as guaranteeing ours), Paul understands the life of the future to be already at work in the present.

The reason for starting his explanation of “knowing Christ” with this word is twofold, and related to the ultimate concerns of the rest of the present appeal. First, the primary focus in what follows lies on the future, hence the connection between the two A lines: the power inherent in Christ’s resurrection guarantees our own resurrection.56 Second, and more apropos to Paul’s immediate concern, present suffering, and especially Paul’s urging the Philippians to “rejoice in the Lord” in the context of suffering (2:17–18), makes sense only in light of the resurrection of Christ.57 Without the power inherent in Christ’s resurrection, present suffering (even for Christ’s sake) is meaningless.

That alone explains the unusual language of this phrase, “the power of his resurrection.” Nowhere else does Paul speak of Christ’s resurrection in quite this way, of its inherent power, which by implication is made available to those who are his.58 Indeed, when speaking elsewhere of the “power” available to believers in the present age, he associates power with either God or the Spirit.59 But here “knowing Christ” first of all means knowing “the power of his resurrection” because the present subject matter is “knowing Christ,” and the empowering dimension of knowing him is reflected in his resurrection. Thus Paul has come to know, and continues to desire to know, the power of Christ’s resurrection at work in his present mortal body. As he puts it in the similar passage in 2 Cor 4:7–17, in these present “jars of clay” we “are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake so that his life might be revealed in our mortal body” (2 Cor 4:11).

On the other hand, we know enough about Pauline theology from what he says elsewhere to add that his experience of the Spirit is the way the power of the resurrection is available to him—and them. After all, this personal narrative begins with the assertion that must be understood to be presuppositional throughout: that in contrast to the backward-looking Judaizers, Paul and the Philippians presently live the life of the future by the power of the (eschatological) Spirit of God (v. 3).

A final theological word is needed regarding the inherent tension created by this line in light of the second one, and the frequent ambivalence one finds in the church toward these two clauses, so that it often becomes a matter of either/or rather than of Paul’s both/and. The power of Christ’s resurrection is neither the only way of knowing Christ in the present nor a way of knowing him independently from participation in his sufferings. In Paul’s sentence the two go together hand-in-glove. Thus, there is not a moment of triumphalism in this first phrase; but neither does Paul emphasize suffering in such a way as to diminish the power of Christ’s resurrection as genuinely present for us. Paul knows nothing of the rather gloomy stoicism that is so often exhibited in historic Christianity, where the lot of the believer is basically that of “slugging it out in the trenches,” with little or no sense of Christ’s presence and power. On the contrary, the power of Christ’s resurrection was the greater reality for him. So certain was Paul that it had happened—after all, he had been accosted and claimed by the Risen Lord on the Damascus Road—and that Christ’s resurrection guaranteed his own, that he could throw himself into the present with a kind of holy abandon, full of rejoicing and thanksgiving; and that not because he enjoyed suffering, but because Christ’s resurrection had given him a unique perspective on present suffering (spelled out in the next two lines) as well as an empowering presence whereby the suffering was transformed into intimate fellowship with Christ himself.

(B) With the phrase, “and participation in his sufferings,”60 Paul gives perspective both to the present warning (v. 2) and to his, and therefore especially to the Philippians’, present circumstances. What began as yet another warning against the Judaizers (v. 2) evolved into his own personal story in which he has made clear to them that there is no future in going backward. He has been that route and has gladly suffered the loss of it all—and everything else—for the surpassing worth of knowing Christ, because, as he has said repeatedly and will say again, this alone has future to it. But the way forward lies with the “road less traveled,” through the present with its suffering for the sake of Christ, not through the past with its safe, religious conformity. Although more speculative, all of this makes a great deal of sense if the possible attraction to Torah observance for the Philippians might lie in its being a way of avoiding suffering, while maintaining faith in Christ.61 But Paul will have none of that, precisely because from his perspective any genuine knowing of Christ means participation in his sufferings, since only in such sufferings does one truly know Christ—as 2:6–8 has made plain.

Here, then, we come to the heart of Paul’s understanding both of his relationship with Christ and of the nature of existence in the “already/not yet.” He frequently refers to suffering on behalf of Christ as the ordinary lot of believers.62 With the present phrase we get some theological insight into such an understanding. First, as was made plain in the Christ narrative (2:6–11), Christ’s resurrection and present exaltation is the direct result of his having suffered for us to the point of death on a cross; by analogy, therefore, the only way for his followers to experience resurrection is through the same path of suffering. Second, and more importantly, the language “participation in his sufferings” gives the theological clue to everything. While believers’ sufferings do not have the expiatory significance of Christ’s, they are nonetheless seen as intimately related to his. Through our suffering the significance of Christ’s suffering is manifested to the world,63 which is why in 1:29–30 Paul describes such suffering as “on behalf of Christ.”64 This also further explains the reason for the sacrificial metaphor in 2:17–18 that follows hard on the heels of their “holding firm the message of life in the world,” including “the world” that stands in opposition to them: Paul’s suffering is the drink offering poured out in conjunction with their “sacrifice” and service resulting from their faith. As noted above on v. 8, it is difficult to imagine that Paul is not here reflecting the teaching of his Lord, that those who follow Christ will likewise have to “bear the cross” on behalf of others.

Hence, “knowing Christ” for Paul involves “participation in his sufferings”—and is a cause for constant joy, not because suffering is enjoyable, but because it is certain evidence of his intimate relationship with his Lord. Now at last the opening imperative, “rejoice in the Lord,” which reiterates the same imperative in 2:18 in the context of suffering, begins to fall into place. The grounds for joy in the Lord come from “knowing him,” as one participates in his sufferings, while awaiting our glorious future.

(B′) With this participial phrase (“becoming like him in his death”) and its companion clause that follows (v. 11), Paul now responds to the twofold way he desires to know Christ. Although grammatically dependent on the verb “to know,” the participle first of all amplifies “participation in his sufferings,” indicating the character of that participation,65 while at the same time it probably reaches beyond that to the whole of present life in Christ, which is to be marked by the death of Christ above all else. Several matters of significance converge here:

First, the combination “being conformed” (summorphizomenos) and “death” recall the Christ narrative in 2:6–11, offering the strongest kind of linguistic ties between Paul’s story and the story of Christ. In pouring himself out by taking on human likeness, Christ, who is in the “form” (morphē) of God, also took on the morphē of a slave; and “being found” in human likeness, he humbled himself to death on a cross. Now Paul—and by implication the Philippians should as well—sees his and their sufferings in Christ’s behalf as God’s way of “conforming” them into the likeness of Christ, which was quite the point of the prior narrative in the first place. Thus Christ’s sufferings do not refer to “sufferings in general,” but to those sufferings that culminated in his death, all of which was for the sake of others. Likewise, it is not just any kind of present suffering to which Paul refers in the preceding phrase, but to those which in particular express participation in Christ’s sufferings; and the aim, as well as the character, of such suffering is to “become like him in his death,” which almost certainly means suffering that is in some way on behalf of the gospel, thus for the sake of others, since no other suffering is in conformity to his.66

Second, and at the same time, this expression, which focuses simultaneously on Christ’s death and Paul’s being “conformed” to it, probably includes more than the suffering in line B. That is, since “participation in his sufferings” (B) is not an end in itself, but embraces Paul’s life as lived in behalf of the gospel, so also “being conformed to his death” (B′) very likely includes the whole of his life, including suffering, as that which marks, or characterizes, life in Christ. Thus it reaches back at least to 2:5–11, where “obedience unto death” is what ultimately marks the life of him who thereby manifests what “being equal with God” was all about. Since that passage was primarily paradigmatic, so here “being conformed to his death” means for those who “know” Christ to live in such a way that their lives bear that same likeness. Thus they are continually in process of “being conformed to his death.”67

Third, since “resurrection” and “sufferings” are not naturally antithetical, this phrase thus serves as the transition between Paul’s knowing the power of Christ’s resurrection (A) in the context of participating in his sufferings (B) and his own future resurrection (A′) noted in v. 11. Resurrection applies only to those who have first experienced “death.” Christian life is cruciform in character; God’s people, even as they live presently through the power made available through Christ’s resurrection, are as their Lord forever marked by the cross. The heavenly Lion, one must never forget, is a slain Lamb (Rev 5:5–6).

Fourth, this participle is picked up again in its adjectival form in v. 21, indicating once more the closest possible ties between death and resurrection and especially the close relationship between our present suffering (by which we are being “conformed” into the likeness of his death) and our future resurrection (in which our present bodies “of humiliation” will be “conformed” into the likeness of his present resurrected, and therefore “glorified,” body).

Together these phenomena demonstrate not only that chapter 3 is an integral part of this letter in its present form, but also that with this clause (vv. 10–11) Paul has now brought the narrative to the point it has been heading all along. The rest of our chapter 3 is a spelling out and application of what is said here.

(A′) Finally, Paul moves from “knowing Christ” in the present to its full realization in the future. The point of this final clause is easy enough: Conformity to Christ’s death in the present, which is possible for Paul because he also “knows the power of Christ’s resurrection” in the present, will be followed by his own “resurrection from among the dead”68 at the end. But how he says it is especially puzzling, particularly since the next paragraph (vv. 12–14), which concludes his story, and which has some equally puzzling moments, is an elaboration of this clause. The puzzles are two, but belong together: why he should begin the sentence with “if somehow,” which might seem to imply doubt;69 and why he should refer to his own resurrection as “attaining unto”70 the “resurrection from among the dead.”

The answer seems to be twofold and interrelated. First, this hesitation is not to be understood as lack of confidence about his own—or their—future; rather, it emphasizes that the resurrection of believers is intimately tied to their first “being conformed to his death.”71 Without “death” of this kind, there is no resurrection.72 Thus, in keeping with the soaring certainties of Rom 8:1–17a, where Paul qualifies our being heirs to future glory with the proviso “that we also suffer with him,” so here, Paul’s certain future resurrection (when viewed “from above”) has the similar proviso (when viewed “from below”), expressed in this case by the “if somehow.” As Luke has reported Paul and Barnabas to have “encouraged” (!) the believers in Asia Minor, here is Paul’s way of saying, “we must go through many hardships to enter the kingdom of God” (Acts 14:22). But his future itself is not in doubt—everything in Paul, including vv. 12–21 that follow, refutes such a notion; what is uncertain for him is whether his certain future is to be realized by resurrection or by transformation (as implied in vv. 20–21). This matter is in God’s hands, to which Paul gladly submits by his use of this language.73

Second, this is his way of moving toward the concern that they “stand firm” in the present (4:1; cf. 1:27), and, above all, not lose their clear focus on, and keen anticipation of, their certain future in Christ. Hence this last clause exists primarily as the direct lead-in to the final section of the narrative (vv. 12–14) and its final application (3:15–4:1). In whatever way the future is realized—through resurrection or transformation at the Parousia (as in vv. 20–21)—the present involves knowing the power of his resurrection as key to participating in Christ’s sufferings. But the final, complete knowing of Christ is “not yet”; neither he nor they have attained to it. Nonetheless, such a future prize is the one certain reality of present existence and is thus worth bending every effort in order to realize. Thus, the “perhaps” is partly for their sakes, to encourage them to join with him in pursuing the prize that has not yet been attained.

As suggested earlier, this text in particular—because it is so popular and thus so easy to read apart from its context—needs careful detailed analysis; but when the analysis is over, one should return to the text and read it again and again. Here is quintessential Paul, and a quintessential expression of the NT view of Christian life. Such life means to be finished with one’s religious past as having value before God or as a means of right relationship with God; it means to trust wholly in Christ as God’s means to righteousness. But such “righteousness” has as its ultimate aim “the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus our Lord”; and “knowing Christ” means to experience the power of his resurrection now through the Spirit, as God’s empowering presence for present “participation in his sufferings,” as those sufferings are in “conformity with his death.” The final two clauses put it all in perspective: to “know Christ” in the present means to be “conformed to his death,” so that all of Christian life is stamped with the divine imprint of the cross as we live out the gospel in the present age, while we await the hope of resurrection.

As with 1:21 and 2:5–11, this selective personal history once again demonstrates how totally Christ-focused Paul is. For him Christian life is not simply a matter of “salvation” and “ethics”; it is ultimately a matter of knowing Christ. So too with resurrection; Paul’s focus is not on “everlasting life” or anything else such. The goal of the resurrection, the “prize” for which Paul strains every effort in the present, is Christ himself.

If suffering and the temptation to become religious were causing the dimming of such vision for some in Philippi, in contemporary Western (and much of the rest of the world) culture the dimming is for different reasons, more often connected with values related to material gain. Paul’s “vision” seems to have the better of it in every imaginable way; and a common return to “the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus our Lord” could go a long way toward renewing the church for its task in the post-modern world. Our lives must be cruciform if they are to count for anything at all; but that word is preceded by the equally important one—the power of his resurrection, which both enables us to live as those marked by the cross and guarantees our final glory.

3. The Future Lies with the Future—Attaining Christ (3:12–14)

12Not that I have already obtained all this, or1 have already been made perfect, but I press on to2 take hold of that for which Christ Jesus3 took hold of me. 13Brothers [and sisters],4 I do not consider myself yet5 to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, 14I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God6 has called me heavenward7 in Christ Jesus.8

With a considerable change of metaphors Paul’s story takes a final turn, which simultaneously looks back to vv. 4–8 (forgetting the past), embraces the present (he is neither fully conformed to Christ’s death nor has he arrived at the goal; vv. 10–11), and emphasizes his present pursuit of the final goal. But in light of how the story began (vv. 4–6) and where it got to in vv. 10–11, this turn in the argument is so unexpected (by us) that it is hard to hold it in context. Indeed, at the popular level, the contextual question is scarcely raised; thus these sentences, like their predecessor, are read in a very personal way and understood to mean pretty much whatever the reader intends. Unfortunately, this kind of reading has been abetted by scholarship—which tends to view this passage as beginning something altogether new, as though Paul were intending to use his story to fight on two fronts—and by translations like the NIV and GNB, which not only make a major paragraph break here, but (in the case of the GNB) offer a new title as well.9

But such a reading of the text is unwarranted, especially since the “not that” with which Paul’s new sentence begins requires one to read what follows as standing in some form of contrast to what has just been said.10 To be sure, in contrast with what may not be immediately apparent, since two of the key verbs in v. 12 (obtained, take hold of) have no object(s). And even if we could be sure of the “what,” there still remains the question of “why.”

As usual in such moments, the way forward lies first with a careful look at the structure of the whole and at how the narrative proceeds. First, the structure (in this case in a “literal” presentation of the Greek text that tries to capture the various linguistic connections):

	12Not that
			already	I have taken (elabon)
		or	already	I have been completed/perfected
	but
			I press on
			if	I also may			take hold of (kata-labo)
					that for which
				I also have been			taken hold of
								by Christ Jesus
13Brothers and sisters,
	I do not consider myself to have taken hold
			but one thing:
				on the one hand,
					the things behind			disregarding
				on the other hand,
					the things before			straining toward,
			14I press on
				toward the goal
				for the prize
						of the upward calling of God
								in Christ Jesus.

Some observations:

(1) The passage comes in two similar, fairly balanced sentences (vv. 12 and 13–14). In both cases (a) the main verb is “I press on,” which is (b) preceded by a disclaimer about “not having arrived” and (c) followed by a word about what he is pressing toward, which in each case (d) is qualified by a “divine passive” (he presses toward something Christ has already “taken hold” of him for). The only additional point made in the second sentence not found in the first is the notation about “disregarding what lies behind.”

(2) Our difficulties with interpretation lie for the most part with the first sentence, resulting from two factors: (a) some unusual language, which stems from two word plays (on the verb lambanō and its compound katalambanō; and on the verb teleiō and its cognate adjective teleioi in v. 15 and noun telos in v. 19);11 and (b) the fact that the lambanō verbs have no expressed object.

(3) Under the ordinary “rules” of rhetoric, such repetition leads one to expect the second sentence to reinforce the first, often by clarification as well—which seems to be exactly what has happened in this case. Fortunately for us, the second sentence is much easier to grasp, because by taking up the main verb from the first sentence, Paul transforms the whole into a metaphor from the races at the games.12 At each point, therefore, we can first of all isolate what is pictured about the “runner” and then find the analogy in Paul’s life in terms of his reasons for this rehearsal of his personal story; and it is precisely at this point (vv. 13–14) that the present paragraph wraps up the narrative that has preceded.

(4) Finally, in both sentences there is nearly as strong an emphasis on the disclaimer not to have “arrived already” as there is on his present eager pursuit of the goal. We should thus take seriously that, even though pursuit of the goal is his primary—and last—word in each case,13 he intends them to hear the disclaimers with equal stress.14

But what, then, is the goal, and why this conclusion to his story, and this emphatic way of putting it? On the first matter we can be fairly certain: in light of what has just been said in vv. 10–11, the “goal” is not “perfection” but the eschatological conclusion of present life, while the “prize” is none other than the final realization of his lifelong passion—the full “knowing” of Christ. To this end all else is not only “loss” and “street garbage” (v. 8) but is to be “forgotten” altogether.

The why remains speculative, especially in light of the double emphasis on his “not being there yet” and on his straining every nerve “to get there.” Many see the primary emphasis to lie on the disclaimers and are prepared to see that emphasis in light of alleged “opponents.” The difficulty with doing so, however, is that it requires one to “mirror read” the text with remarkable clairvoyance, since nothing else explicit in the letter comes forward to offer help; the nature of the “opposition,” therefore, lies strictly in the eyes of the beholder, not in the text of Paul.15 What we can point to from the letter, as we have noted throughout, are the twin emphases on (a) their “rejoicing in the Lord even in the midst of suffering” as (b) they “stand firm in the Lord” in the face of opposition with a keen eye toward future realities. That much at least belongs to the letter as a whole, and it is precisely the double note on which the present passage concludes (3:20–21 and 4:1). A careful look at the parts seems likewise to point in this direction.

The reason for the disclaimers is more difficult to assess. Perhaps a temptation toward the Judaizers also carried with it the idea that Torah observance makes one “more complete” in Christ,16 not in the sense of “moral perfection” but of having achieved ultimate status in the people of God. One simply cannot know Paul’s mind here, although historically it can be noted that the tendency to settle into a religious mode, especially by becoming “observant,” is often accompanied by a dulling of one’s eagerness for Christ himself, either conformity to his death or keen anticipation for his coming.

12 The “not that”17 which begins this sentence is a Greek idiom that qualifies something previously said, so that the readers will not draw the wrong inference from it.18 Along with the repeated adverb “[not] already” Paul thus offers a twofold disclaimer—what not to infer about the already present future—plus a contrast presenting the “not yet” dimension of that same future. The elaboration in vv. 13–14 indicates that the disclaimer has to do with realities that will be realized only at the eschatological consummation. The context, therefore, suggests that what is being disclaimed as “already brought to full completion” is the knowing of Christ which can only be Paul’s when the eschatological goal,19 referred to in terms of the resurrection from the dead in v. 11, is realized at the coming of Christ (cf. vv. 20–21).

To this point Paul has asserted that he has left his religious past behind him so that he might “gain Christ and be found in him”—already but not yet—having now the new righteousness effected by Christ. The goal of everything is to know Christ, which in the present means to experience the power of Christ’s resurrection as Paul participates in Christ’s sufferings, thereby being conformed to Christ’s death—marked by the cross—so that he might also thereby attain the resurrection from the dead. Now he qualifies, “not that I already obtained.”20 Since this verb seems to cry out for an object, the question is, “obtained what?” The NIV suggests “all this,” but that probably reaches too far back into the preceding sentence. Despite an early scribe who thought otherwise and added, “or am already fully justified,”21 it is unlikely that Paul considers his present “righteousness” as something yet to be realized.22 Righteousness is the given, which has made possible his “knowing Christ” in the present at all. What he has not yet “obtained,” therefore, is the eschatological realization of the goal expressed in vv. 10–11, the kind of knowing of Christ that will be his only when he has “attained unto the resurrection from the dead”—or its equivalent, as vv. 20–21 clarify.

In that case, and both the preceding and ensuing contexts clamor for such a meaning, then the next verb probably carries a nuance other than “have already been made perfect,”23 as though it dealt with “righteousness” or some form of “perfectionism.”24 Although this verb and its cognates can sometimes mean “perfect,” its origins lie with the noun telos, whose primary sense has to do with the “goal” or “aim” toward which something is pointing, often in the sense of “completing” or “fulfilling” it. Since there is nothing elsewhere in this letter, nor anywhere else in the Pauline churches for that matter, that smacks of “perfectionism,”25 it is doubtful whether Paul is here intentionally countering such a point of view. More likely, since this verb seems intended to further clarify the first one,26 it carries the sense of having “been brought to completion,” by having arrived at the final goal with regard to his knowing Christ.27 Together, therefore, these two disclaimers emphasize that the future, even though Paul considers it certain, has not yet been fully realized. But what future, and how are the two clauses related? Most likely Paul is affirming two things: that he has not yet come to know Christ in the way that only the eschaton will bring, and therefore that even though he knows Christ now, including the power of his resurrection, such knowledge does not mean either that his is now “completed” or that he has arrived at the final goal.

The future, however, belongs only to those who persevere (to use the language of theology). Paul thus immediately sets them right regarding the future that is “not yet”: “but I press on,”28 he says. In this first case the object of his present “pursuit” is expressed with a set of clauses that play on a compound of the verb “take” in the first disclaimer: “whether I also may take hold of29 that for which I was also taken hold of by Christ Jesus.” If that comes out a bit awkwardly, both in Greek and English,30 it is because Paul is simultaneously playing on the word “take hold of” while “putting it straight” theologically. His meaning is plain enough, since it is clarified by the elaboration in vv. 13–14. Precisely because he has not yet arrived at the goal specified in vv. 10–11, he is “pursuing” it with all his might, which in this first instance is expressed in terms of “taking hold of” the very thing31 for which Christ first “took hold of” him. While Paul is indeed pursuing the eschatological goal with all his might, that is only because Christ was there first, pursuing him as it were, and “apprehending” him so as to make Paul one of his own.32 Paul’s point, as always, is that Christ’s work is the prior one, and that all his own effort is simply in response to, and for the sake of, that prior “apprehension” of him by “Christ Jesus my Lord.”

It is hard to imagine that this could refer to anything other than his final apprehension of Christ. Granted the mention of the resurrection in v. 11; but vv. 20–21 indicate that for Paul it is not resurrection per se that interests him but the final glory. The one whose motto is “to live is Christ, to die is [to] gain [Christ]” is not focusing now on the means to that end, but on the eschatological culmination itself—the ultimate apprehension of Christ.

13–14 With an introductory vocative, “brothers and sisters,” Paul elaborates the point of v. 12 with an athletic metaphor,33 picturing himself as a runner whose every muscle and nerve is singularly focused on the goal, in hopes of winning the prize. Although he begins by emphatically repeating the disclaimer,34 that is now secondary to the emphasis on the pursuit of the prize itself—Paul’s primary concern regarding the Philippians, and his reason for concluding his story in this way.35 That all of this is being narrated for their sakes is equally evidenced by the sudden—and surprising—appearance of the vocative (the first explicit reference to the Philippians since vv. 2–3) in the middle of his own personal story.36

The disclaimer in this case repeats the verb from the immediately preceding clauses: “I do not consider myself to have taken hold.” The reference seems to be so clearly to the eschatological wrapup, with the final gaining of Christ as its focus,37 that to add an object (even the “it” of the NIV) seems pedestrian. This is what he longs for with regard to his Philippian brothers and sisters as well, that they not lose their “eager expectation” of Christ’s coming (v. 20) in the midst of present difficulty and opposition. Perfectionism is hardly an issue; but perseverance with regard to Christ and the gospel is.

Thus he presents himself to them as a runner, whose reason for running is “one thing”38—winning the prize. As most analogies do, this one breaks down at one crucial point; in this case, all who run to the finish receive the prize. But Paul’s point is not winning as such; rather his focus is on the runner, who runs so as to win.39 The analogy is in three parts.

First, he pictures the runner as one who is not distracted by other things, presumably by others in the race. The imagery is probably that of the runner who is in the lead and does not look back to see where the competitors are; rather he focuses all his energy on the goal. Thus: “paying no attention to40 what is behind and straining toward what is ahead.”41 Paul’s interest in this part of the imagery is not with others in the race. Indeed, it is quite possible that this is simply part of the imagery to emphasize his eager pursuit of the goal and therefore that he does not “mean” anything by it at all, in the sense that the analogy has a real life counterpart of some kind. If he does “mean” something, which seems likely, it is probably to be understood in light of vv. 4–8: Paul as a runner who “pays no attention to the things that are behind” is probably a parting shot at what some of the Philippians might now be finding attractive. By “pursuing” Torah observance as “advancement,” they would in fact be after the very things Paul has gladly put behind him as refuse.42 In any case, as the rest of the analogy makes clear, the present accent is on “straining toward what is ahead.”

The second point in the analogy is contained in the clause, “straining toward those things that lie before, I press on toward the goal.”43 The “goal” in the imagery, of course, is the finish line. For Paul the “goal” is the eschatological consummation of what is “already” his in Christ. Thus, it is not the resurrection as such, but the conclusion itself that is the goal; and despite what the imagery on its own might yield in terms of meaning, Paul is concerned only that the Philippians follow him in keeping a firm grip on their certain future, that they not be distracted along the way with lesser things (either Torah observance or opposition). Hence the concern expressed in 1:25, that he has “their progress and joy in the faith” uppermost in his concern for them. Progress in the faith means to hold steady to their future orientation, that they are a people headed for final glory with Christ himself.

Third, Paul images himself as a runner whose pursuit of the goal has “the prize”44 as his—and by implication their—ultimate reason for running.45 No mere celery wreath for Paul;46 his prize is of “surpassing worth by far”—to gain Christ fully and completely. Not one to leave such imagery alone without mentioning the God whose love for him has made it possible, Paul adds a series of (mostly genitive) qualifiers—“of the upward (= heavenward) calling of God in Christ Jesus”—whose sense is easier to sort out than its grammar.47 Whatever names we may give to his genitives, Paul intends the following relationships: First, God has “called” Paul to himself, which will culminate in glory; second, that call, which began at his conversion, is “heavenward” in terms of its final goal; third, God’s call found its historical and experiential locus “in Christ Jesus”; and fourth, at the end of the race Paul will gain the prize, the tangible evidence that the goal of God’s call has been reached.48

Paul tends to see all of Christian life in terms of “God’s calling.”49 It begins as a call, call into fellowship with his Son (1 Cor 1:9), thus a call to “be saints,” and thereby joined to his people who are destined for glory. The present usage is unusual in that it looks at the believer’s calling from the perspective of its completion rather than its beginnings, as in most instances. This has been the aim of God’s call right along, to lift them “heavenward”50 to share in his eternal Presence. Here, then, is the first note of what will be emphasized at the end of the appeal in vv. 19–21: some, who are no longer “walking” in the way set forth by Paul, have their “minds set on earthly things”; whereas Paul and the Philippians are among those whose “citizenship is [already] in heaven,” from whence they await the coming of the Savior.

But as in the preceding sentence (v. 12), the final word is “Christ Jesus”; in this case God’s call has been effected for him and them “in Christ Jesus.” As throughout the letter, this preposition is probably locative, not instrumental,51 pointing to the sphere in which God’s calling took place; it happened “in Christ Jesus,” meaning in his death and resurrection, and it has been effected for Paul as one who trusts in and therefore lives “in Christ Jesus.” Thus Christ is both the means and the end of God’s call; and “knowing him” finally and fully is the “prize” toward which Paul stretches every nerve. As he will now go on to urge (vv. 15–16), by way of application, they should do the same.

This singular and passionate focus on the future consummation, which Paul clearly intends as paradigmatic, often gets lost in the church—for a whole variety of reasons: in a scientific age, it is something of an embarrassment to many; in a world “come of age,” only the oppressed think eschatologically, for reasons of weakness we are told; in an affluent age, who needs it? But Paul’s voice should not be muffled so quickly and easily. For a race who by their very nature are oriented to the future but who have no real future to look forward to, here is a strikingly and powerfully Christian moment. The tragedy that attends the rather thoroughgoing loss of hope in contemporary Western culture is that we are now trying to make the present eternal. Hence North Americans in particular are the most death-denying culture in the history of the race. How else, pray tell, can one explain cosmetic surgery having become a multi-million dollar industry?

In the midst of such banal hopelessness the believer in Christ, who recognizes Christ as the beginning and end of all things meaningful, needs to be reminded again—and to think in terms of sharing it with the world—that God’s purposes for his creation are not finished until he has brought our salvation to its consummation. Indeed, to deny the consummation is to deny what is essential to any meaningful Christian faith. Paul finds life meaningful precisely because he sees the future with great clarity, and the future has to do with beginnings—the (now redeemed) realization of God’s creative purposes through Christ the Lord. There is no other prize; hence nothing else counts for much except “knowing Christ,” both now and with clear and certain hope for the future.

C. APPLICATION AND FINAL APPEAL (3:15–4:3)

Having used himself as an example of one who not only rejected his Jewish privileges for the gospel but also lives in the present totally oriented to the future, Paul now explicitly turns to apply this remarkable testimony to the situation in Philippi. But it is an application singularly difficult for the average reader to follow, and full of pitfalls for the scholar. Some things are clear enough: (1) Paul intends his story to be exemplary for them, since he makes that point two times running (vv. 15–16 and 17);1 (2) after this twofold application, the second of which is accompanied by a contrasting indictment (vv. 18–19), he returns in turn (a) to his and their certain future in Christ (vv. 20–21), specifically picking up the latter part of the narrative (vv. 12–14, by way of vv. 10–11), (b) to the imperative to “stand firm in the Lord” (4:1), thus repeating the primary appeal from 1:27, and (c) to the appeal “have one mindset” (4:2–3) from 2:2–5, this time specifically applying it to two leaders of the community. Thus, Paul’s application of his story recalls the two major concerns addressed in the two sections of the letter given to their “circumstances”: steadfastness (including their keeping a steady gaze on Christ and their sure future) and unity.

But there are difficulties as well: to determine (a) what in his story Paul wants them to emulate in the appeals in vv. 15–16 and 17, and thus to determine precisely what he is after in these appeals; (b) how the various parts described above are related to one another in terms of the “argument” of the letter;2 and (c) how the indictment of vv. 18–19 in particular is related to these materials. These in turn are related (in a typical exegetical circle) to our difficulties in determining with precision the meaning of a considerable number of details along the way.

As a way of approaching these matters, we should note that between the story itself and this application the three-way bond that holds the letter together3 is in full evidence; and this may help us to resolve some of the larger contextual questions. The narrative (vv. 4–14) was devoted altogether to the relationship of Paul to Christ; these appeals now link that with the other two “sides of the triangle” (see p. 13): First, his secure relationship with them allows him to tell his story for purposes of “imitation,” as he now explicitly tells them; moreover, he begins (vv. 15–16) and ends (20–21) with verbs in the first plural, rather than second, thus reinforcing that he and they are in this together. Second, the clear aim of all this is with the Philippians’ relationship with Christ, which is specifically picked up in the three final appeals (vv. 20–21; 4:1, and 2–3). Thus, there is no evidence, including in vv. 18–19, of “opposition” between him and them; some of them apparently need correction and exhortation, but that is not the same thing as “opposition.”4 This suggests further that vv. 18–19, rather than pointing to opponents, function exactly as Paul indicates—as a negative example of some who have stopped “running” and who are thus no longer either friends of the cross or eagerly pursuing the heavenly prize; rather, “their minds are set on present earthly existence,” whose only future is “destruction.” Even if we cannot identify these people with certainty, and we cannot, their function in the appeal is clearly expressed.