It probably is one of the most inspiring yet most convicting declarations of Scripture. Just twelve simple words strung together . . . every word just a single syllable . . . in fact the longest word in this “mission statement” is only five characters long. Not a complicated sentence structure . . . but a combination of words that strikes you as deeply profound. A “life motto” that cries out for adoption . . . yet carries with it implications that give you pause as you consider what it would mean to seek to live up to such a declaration.

Paul writes to a group of people who are concerned about his Roman imprisonment. They worry about his safety . . . they worry about his health. Paul’s been through a lot . . . he’s aged, perhaps faster than most men, because of what he’s endured for the gospel . . . and now, he awaits a hearing before Caesar . . . his accusers determined to see him destroyed. And so, to this people Paul writes a letter of encouragement . . . a treatise under-girded by a sense of abiding joy . . . “Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I will say, rejoice!” he says. Where does that come from? What makes Paul tick? How can he be going through what he’s going through and still find it in Himself to write these letters of care and encouragement? Twelve simple words . . . one bottom line view of life . . .

“For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain.” (Philippians 1:21)

Simple, huh? Life was all about Christ . . . Paul didn’t see any “no win” scenario in front of him. Yes he was in prison, but it “actually turned out for the furtherance of the gospel” (1:12). The palace guard were getting schooled in “Good News 101” (1:13) . . . the local Christians were inspired by Paul’s life witness such that they were becoming much more bold to speak the gospel without fear (1:14). Paul may have been in chains, but the gospel was being preached! “And in this I rejoice,” writes Paul, “yes, and will rejoice.” For to me, to live is Christ . . .

Death was all about Christ, too! Paul didn’t fear death . . . in fact, there was a certain “appeal” to passing on. Not that death was about what he could escape and leave behind. No, instead it was about the One he would go to see . . . “having a desire to depart and be with Christ, which is far better” (1:23). For Paul, there was a continual “there and then” perspective which drove his “here and now” priorities and actions. To die would be gain . . . it would be advantage . . . it would lead to the ultimate “win scenario”. To exit this world and be with Christ . . . that was the grand prize. To see again, face to face, the One he had met on the Damascus road . . . that would exceed any pleasure, joy, or accomplishment that might be achieved in this life. But, until that day of the Lord’s calling, and though dying would mean seeing Christ . . . while he remained in time and space, for Paul, living meant serving Christ.

And so you hover over these twelve simple words . . . and you whisper them to yourself . . . and you reflect on the degree to which they reflect your inner heart. And to the degree that they ring true for you, you thank God for His work of grace in your life. And to the degree that they have yet to own every aspect of your life, you ask God to continue His work of grace in you . . . that Christ might truly be life’s all-in-all . . . that the gain of departing and being with Christ would become so real . . . that in all things there might be a deep, abiding joy.

Twelve simple words . . . for His glory . . . amen!