My Morning Meal

Put a dollar bill in my right hand and a hundred dollar bill in my left and tell me to choose one . . . I’ll take what’s in my left hand. Or tell me there’s an ’88 Toyota Tercel behind the first door and a Porsche behind the second and ask me to pick one . . . “I’ll take what’s behind door number two, Monty!” Kind of no brainers . . . picking something of greater value over something that’s of very little value . . . but only if you know the value of the objects in play. If you’re new to the paper money thing and you reason that $1 must be of more value than $100 because 1 is higher ranking than 100 . . . or, if you think a car with 5 doors (including the hatchback) must have taken more to make than a car with two doors . . . you might just choose the lesser over the greater.

So, what’s got me trying to come up with this sorta’ lame line of reasoning? I’m noodling on something Paul writes to the Philippians about relative value . . . and choosing the greater over the lesser . . .

But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For His sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ . . . ” (Philippians 3:7-8  ESV)

It’s that phrase, “the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord”, that’s my “hover point” this morning.

Behind Door #1 Paul had a rich pedigree and a prestigious future. His lineage distinguished him as a “Hebrew of the Hebrews” . . . his smarts concerning the law and his ambition concerning his religion made him a “shoo-in” for the highest rankings of the elite in Israeli society . . . and his drive in pursuit of that which he considered righteousness was unmatched. “Success” was his to lay hold of . . . for a good portion of his life he had pursued Door #1 and it was paying off.

But then . . . then Paul got a glimpse of what was behind “Door #2”. Well . . . a bit more than a glimpse. He met the risen Savior on the road to Damascus (Acts 9:3-5) . . . he received some personal tutoring at “Paradise U” (2Cor. 12:2-4) . . . he started to experience “knowing Christ.” Behind Door #2 was communion with the living Lord of Creation. The prize consisted not in physical or material returns but in the wonder, awe, and intimacy of being brought into close relationship with the One who formed Him . . . and knew Him . . . and intensely desired to “come in and sup with him”. Door #2 was less about the things of this world and all about things of the next . . . not so much about the treasures stored up here but coming into an inheritance as a co-heir with the precious Son of God . . . not so much about the sacrifices he might be called to make, but all about a continual abiding appreciation for the sacrifice made on his behalf by the spotless Lamb of God. So this . . . and so much more . . . were to Paul of a “surpassing worth.”

Doesn’t it come down to a value system . . . to looking at two “doors” and deciding the relative value of one over the other . .. and then choosing to pursue one, even if it costs the other? Paul counted everything behind Door #1 as loss . . . and he lost it all . . . the title, the esteem, the prestige, the “future”. But in Paul’s estimation it didn’t even compete with the surpassing worth of “gaining Christ”. He would readily let go of the things of this world in order to grow in the grace of knowledge of His Savior. He would release all claims to the “Tercel hatchback” of this age in order to enter into fully the fellowship available to him with the risen King of kings and Lord of lords.

Oh, the surpassing worth of know Christ Jesus my Lord . . .

I’ll take what’s behind Door #2, as well, Monty . . .

He’s kind of a background player in the overall story of the New Testament. Saved as a young man, he and Paul developed a very strong bond and he faithfully accompanied Paul on many of his travels . . . often being asked to stay behind and do “the follow up work” or being sent back in order to encourage the believers and find out how things were going. Reference to him is frequently made in Paul’s letters . . . and, he was himself a recipient of two epistles from Paul. That Paul loved him . . . that Paul valued him . . . is clear. According to Paul, there was no one like him.

I hope in the Lord Jesus to send Timothy to you soon, so that I too may be cheered by news of you. For I have no one like him, who will be genuinely concerned for your welfare. They all seek their own interests, not those of Jesus Christ. But you know Timothy’s proven worth, how as a son with a father he has served with me in the gospel.” (Philippians 2:19-22 ESV)

Timothy was with Paul when Paul wrote his letter to the church at Philippi (Php 1:1). And though Paul was a bit predisposed at the moment (aka chained to Roman guards in a Roman prison) his care for the saints was such that he wanted to be with them . . . he wanted to care for them . . . he wanted to encourage them . . . and he wanted to be encouraged BY them as he observed their faithful walk and service to the risen Lord. What’s the next best thing to being there himself? Have Timothy go . . . for there’s no one like him.

Actually, based on the few study tools I have access to on my computer, this might be a case where the NKJV and the NASB got it “more right” than did the ESV. The NKJV says of Timothy, ” For I have no one like-minded, who will sincerely care for your state,” while the NASB renders it, “for I have no one else of kindred spirit who will genuinely be concerned for your welfare.”

In Paul’s estimation there was no one like Timothy, because none was as like-minded with the blessed apostle as was Timothy. They shared a similar spirit . . . they connected on a kindred basis . . . literally, they were “equal in soul.”

Paul trusted these upstart churches to Timothy’s care and follow up because Timothy was genuinely concerned for their welfare . . . just as Paul was. Did Paul “labor” for believers to grow up until Christ was formed in them? (Gal. 3:19) . . . Timothy did too. Would Paul “pour himself out” as an offering in order to encourage and enhance “the sacrificial offering” of those he had “fathered” into the kingdom? (Php. 2:17) . . . so too Timothy was less concerned about himself than he was the things of the Head of the Church, Jesus Christ. There was no one like-minded as Timothy . . . there was no one like him.

Timothy was the real thing. He possessed the mind of Christ . . . the mind of a servant who did not grasp after the benefits of ministry but sought only to be a minister . . . who humbly counted others worth the effort of putting out — whether it was traveling miles and miles between churches or having to deal with the many, many trials presented by church members . . . who looked not to his own interests but to the interests of the other sheep for whom the Great Shepherd had given His life. Timothy was tested, tried, and proven . . . no one like him.

Oh, that I too would be like-minded . . . that I might know more and more the kindred spirit of those who are genuinely concerned for the welfare of others . . . that, though there is no one like him, I might be a bit more like Timothy . . . by the grace of Christ . . . through the power of the Spirit . . . for the glory of God.

That Paul desired unity among believers is evident in a number of his letters. In Paul’s view, salvation was about so much more than just securing “fire insurance” . . . it was the launching pad for a life with potential to bring glory to the Savior and to the Father. And while some of this potential might be realized on an individual level, I’m thinking that it really happens on the corporate level . . . at the “body of Christ” level. If I think back to Ephesians, when Paul says to walk in a manner worthy of our calling in Christ, the first thing he launches into is how to live as a body of believers in order to “maintain the unity of the faith” (Eph. 4:1-3). Reading in Philippians this morning, he again speaks of letting “your manner of life be worthy of the gospel of Christ” as you “stand firm . . . striving side by side for the faith” (Php. 1:27). And as I read Philippians 2 it’s clear that this “corporate challenge” is made in light of a common experience.

“So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind.” (Philippians 2:1-2)

The word “if” here is best understood as “since.” These are not attributes which are in question, but realities which are being experienced. They knew the encouragement of being in Christ . . . they had encountered the love of God and the warmth and comfort it brings . . . they could point to times when they sensed the intense desire and mercy of the Father, and . . . this one really caught my eye . . . they had known “participation in the Spirit.”

Other translations render it “fellowship of the Spirit.” The Greek word is koinonia . . . i.e. fellowship, association, community, communion, interaction, intimacy, joint participation. Because these believers shared in the common experience of the Holy Spirit, they were to make every effort to live in such community with one another that the community, in and of itself, would testify to the truth, power, and reality of the gospel.

And I think about “participation” or “fellowship” in the Spirit and I’m reminded of the privileged dynamic afforded the believer in terms of the depths to which we can interact with God as Jesus lives through us by the Holy Spirit, and the bond created among believers that makes us “instant family” in the Spirit.

My “participation” is with heaven itself through the agency of the Spirit of God. I have been made alive to the things of the kingdom of God and, as I learn more to hear the Spirit’s voice and seek to walk in and be led by the Spirit, I experience the realities of communion with the Father . . . I know more the mind and heart of Christ . . . I leverage increasingly the power of the resurrection. Not that I have “arrived” . . . but that I am gaining more and more a “real life” understanding of that “participation in the Spirit.”

In addition, this “fellowship in the Spirit” is about the community I’ve come to know with other believers. It’s about the kinship and responsibility I sense towards other “sinners saved by grace.” It’s about more than shaking hands on a Sunday morning, but it’s the privilege of being drawn into pathways of other pilgrims working their way home. It’s that bond that connects us as living stones being built into a holy temple, a dwelling place for God through the Spirit (Eph. 2:21-22). It sensing the reality of being a body part in the body of Christ . . . have a role . . . being part of the “building itself up in love” dynamic He has designed (Eph. 4:16). And it’s because of the reality of this common experience in the Spirit that I’m called to humbly count my brothers and sisters “more significant” than myself . . . that I’m to look out for their interests and not just consider my own (Php. 2:3-4).

A common experience . . . a divine participation . . . for the glory of God.

Paul was less worried about the destination and more concerned with the journey . . . he seems to have cared more about the process than the outcome . . . focused more on how he did life than on how life treated him. I’m reading in Philippians this morning and am again impressed and inspired by the apostle’s singular focus applied to what’s going down in his life at the time.

He’s in prison . . . but, he says, “My imprisonment is for Christ” (Php. 1:13). His “field of ministry” has been restricted to just the palace guard but he rejoices that “most of the brothers, having become confident in the Lord by my imprisonment, are much more bold to speak the word without fear” (1:14). There are those on the outside who are taking advantage of Paul’s imprisonment to increase their own ministry . . . trying to “out preach” the apostle . . . to build themselves up by putting him down while he’s out of the way . . . and to this Paul’s response is, “What then? Only that in every way, whether in pretense or in truth, Christ is proclaimed, and in that I rejoice” (1:18).

What’s with the guy? Is he just little Mr. Sunshine? Are the only glasses he has rose-colored? Is he just a lemonade maker? Does he just try and escape from reality by continually going to his own little happy place? No, not really. What he is, is focused. What he has is a filter . . . a way of looking at all that happens in his life . . . the good, the bad, and the ugly . . . through a single lens . . . evaluating how it aligns with his overriding life’s “mission statement.”

“. . . it is my eager expectation and hope that I will not be at all ashamed, but that with full courage now as always Christ will be honored in my body, whether by life or by death.” (Philippians 1:20 ESV)

I’m in prison? . . . may Christ be honored in my body. I can only preach to a few Roman soldiers? . . . may Christ be “magnified” (NKJV) in my body. There are doofuses out their preaching the gospel out of rivalry and envy? . . . may Christ be “exalted” (NASB, NIV) in how I respond. I might die in this prison? . . . may it happen in such a way as “to make Christ more accurately known” (MSG). Don’t you get jazzed by Paul’s singular, overriding desire for his life? I do. Bringing honor to Jesus should be life’s great umbrella.

Oh, to be so sold out to Christ that everything . . . absolutely everything . . . is brought under the over-arching desire to honor Him. That all of life’s blessings would be received and then leveraged in such a way as to exalt Him. That life’s trials, persecutions, imprisonments, and even death would all be brought into subjection to the grand purpose of magnifying the Savior. That even the mundane, day-in-day-out stuff, would be influenced with the desire to walk in manner worthy of, and consistent with, the Christ being formed in me by the Spirit’s sanctifying work.

Paul’s greatest fear was that through the trials of his imprisonment he might do something of which he would be ashamed . . . literally, something that would “disfigure.” He dreaded the thought of reacting in some manner, or saying some word, that would bring shame upon him and would distort and dishonor the One he desired to proclaim in his body. And what was true for Paul in the trials and testings of Roman confinement should be true for me in whatever state I find myself in. That I would be guarded and directed by an intense inner dread of doing anything that reflects poorly on the One who died for me . . . the One who is, one day soon, coming again for me.

That Christ would be honored in my body . . . that He would be exalted . . . that He would be magnified . . . in all things . . . through all circumstance . . . so that He might receive all glory. Not a bad umbrella to get under. Amen?