Philippians 3:17-4:1 Commentary

Some biblical truths resonate with me more deeply than not just other truths, but also more than those truths did even a few years ago. Among them is this Sunday’s Epistolary Lesson’s Paul and Timothy’s assertion that we “eagerly await [apekdechometha*]” the return of our Lord Jesus Christ (Philippians 3:20).

For me that eagerness is fueled by things like the recent news that my fairly young cousin who was the mom of three relatively young children died after a battle with a virulent form of cancer. Once I stopped gasping my grief and (temporarily) stopped praying for K’s loved ones, I prayed “Come, Lord Jesus!”

Philippians’ largely joyful and pastoral tone makes it tempting to overlook its eschatological flavor. It can be easy to look past, for example, Philippians 3:10’s, “I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection of the dead.” In verse 14 he adds, “I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.”

Of course, this Sunday’s Epistolary Lesson’s eschatological talk has a biblical context. The apostles speak of Jesus’ friends’ eager awaiting of Christ’s return only after they describe what it’s like not to eagerly await it. In verse 18 Paul mourns that “Many [polloi] live [peripatousin] as enemies [echthrous] of the cross [staurou] of Christ.”

This at least suggests that some people don’t just reject Christ’s cross as the means by which God graciously rescues Jesus’ followers. They also somehow live as sworn enemies of that cross. Some of those enemies may be the “dogs” to whom Paul refers in Philippians 3:2-3 as putting their “confidence in the flesh.”

With tears perhaps streaming down his cheeks the apostle grieves for the people who live as though Jesus didn’t suffer so greatly for the sake of the world. The cross’s enemies live, instead, as though they must somehow do and say enough right things to be in a good relationship with the living God.

That hatred of Christ’s cross, Paul and Timothy go on to write, sometimes manifests itself in vulgar ways. While the NIV translates the cross’s enemies’ “destiny [telos]” as “destruction [apoleia],” telos can also mean “goal.” So it’s possible to interpret the apostles as saying the cross’s enemies see their life’s purpose as the ruin of both those around them and them.

Those enemies, what’s more, Paul writes, make their “stomach” [koilia] their “god” [theos]. They live as though their appetites are the most important thing in their lives. It’s as if the apostles suggest the cross’s enemies devote their whole lives to satisfying nothing but their various cravings.

On top of all that, the apostles grieve, the cross’s enemies’ “glory [doxa] is their shame [aischyne].” In other words, theirs’ isn’t the reflected glory of the living God. It isn’t even glory. The enemies of the cross think of what’s actually disgraceful as glorious. They have, quite simply, traded in God’s grace that we receive with our faith for debauchery that leads to destruction.

The “mind,” [phronountes] of those enemies, summarizes Paul at the end of verse 19, “is set on earthly things [epigeia].” As the NLT paraphrases it, the enemies of the cross “think only about this life here on earth.” “All they can think of,” as The Message paraphrases verse 19, “is their appetites.”

Most Christians readily think of people who make satisfying their various appetites the focus of their whole lives. However, if that awareness plays any part in our preaching, it should be largely as a stimulus to lament those enemies’ misery and pray for their well-being.

Preachers want the Spirit to help us draw at least some of our focus away from others’ enmity toward the cross and onto our own.  Paul is, after all, speaking to people he refers to in Philippians 1:1 as “the saints in Jesus Christ.” So preachers might invite God’s people to examine and confess the ways we make ourselves Christ’s cross’s enemies. Preachers might even consider confessing our own pursuit of the satiation of our appetites rather than a faithful relationship with our living God in Jesus Christ.

That helps us remember that even Philippians 3’s “hard words” are a gift of God’s grace. God could have, after all, abandoned us to our willful enmity toward the cross. God could also have abandoned our neighbors whom our stubborn pursuit of satisfying our appetites so deeply harms. But God loved both our neighbors and us too much to simply abandon them and us to our own devices. God, rather summons us to both confess our worship of false gods and to live in ways that both honor God and bless our neighbors.

After all, “Our citizenship [politeuma],” as writes Paul in verse 10, “is in heaven [ouranois].” By that he at least means that Christians’ primary loyalty isn’t to our appetites or anything or one else. Jesus’ friends’ first loyalty is to the living God in Jesus Christ. We don’t live to satisfy our cravings. Christians live to love God above all and our neighbors as ourselves.

This idea of our heavenly citizenship may, however, require some “unpacking.” After all, it’s tempting to interpret our heavenly citizenship as meaning that our true home is in heaven or the new creation. That certainly is the place to which God is ultimately leading us. However, God has placed Jesus’ followers in a specific time and space. Since our first loyalty is to God and God’ kingdom, we gladly and joyful submit to God’s reign over everything, including our relationships, communities and the creation.

What’s more, while the NIV and other translations render the Greek word politeuma as “citizenship,” the word can also mean “community.” So it’s not just that heaven’s citizens’ first loyalty is to God and God’s kingdom. Our primary identity is as God’s adopted children whose first loyalties are to God and other Christians – no matter what other Christians’ political and national loyalties are.

God has graciously placed Jesus’ followers in community with Christians of all times and places. In fact, you can argue, we have more in common with Christians of nations we consider to be our enemies than we have with non-Christian citizens of our own countries.

With not only American, Canadian and other western Christians, but also with Russian, North Korean, Chinese and countless other citizens of heaven, heaven’s citizens eagerly await our Savior’s return from the heavenly realm. After all, as the apostles write in verse 21, “by the power that enables [dynasthai] [the Lord Jesus Christ] to bring everything under his control [hypotaxai hauto ta panta], [he] will transform [metaschemasitei] our lowly [tapeinoseos] bodies so that they will be like [symmorphon] his glorious body [doxes].”

The Message lyrically paraphrases this as, “We’re awaiting the arrival of the Savior, the Master, Jesus Christ, who will transform our earthly bodies into glorious bodies like his own. He’ll make us beautiful and whole with the same powerful skill by which he is putting everything as it should be, under and around him.”

So we don’t just wait for Jesus’ return to subdue all that would oppose God and God’s good plans. God’s dearly beloved people are eagerly expecting our King to return from the heavenly realm to fully conform all things to God’s good purposes. We stand on tiptoes, as it were, as we watch for the arrival of the One who will condemn to hell the deaths of young moms, the senseless slaughter of war’s innocent victims, as well as all of the other death-dealing ways of the evil one.

What’s more, Philippians 3:20-21 contains a thinly veiled critique of the behavior of those whose gods are their appetites. The “stomachs” whom so many people worship aren’t just “lowly;” they’re also destined for “transformation.” At Christ’s return, all of our countless efforts to satisfy our misdirected longings will prove to have been a colossal waste of time.

After all, that on which we naturally spend so much time fixating will be changed at the return of Jesus Christ from the heavenly realm. We might even interpret Paul to claim that Christ will both subdue the appetites to which we naturally give so much power and transform our cravings so that they more closely resemble Christ’s glorious ones.

As a result, Paul’s Christian brothers and sisters whom he loves and longs for can, as this Sunday’s Epistolary Lesson ends, “stand firm [stekete] in the Lord in this way.” Jesus’ “dear friends´[agapetoi] can gladly submit our whole selves, including our appetites and cravings, to Jesus Christ’s lordship. God’s adopted children don’t have to “waver,” says The Message. We can “Stay on track, steady in God.” After all, we don’t just know to whom we belong. We also know the way forward that God has shown us.

*I have here and elsewhere added in brackets the italicized Greek words for the English words the NIV translation uses.

Illustration

In his book, The Seven Perennial Sins and Their Offspring, Ken Bazyn cites the work of the French author Francois Rabelais. Rabelais invented an outrageous baby whose god was his stomach. The author noted that the first words of “Gargantua (named for his enormous throat) … after being born were ‘Give me a drink! a drink! a drink!’ So, he was given a good, stiff drink, and afterward, 17,913 cows were rounded up to provide him milk until he was twenty-two months of age.

“Whenever [Gargantua] cried, stamped his feet, or appeared out of sorts, some soothing liquid was placed between his lips, and instantly his good humor was restored. One of his maids claimed that ‘he was so accustomed to this treatment that at the very sound of pints and flagons, he would fall into ecstasy, as though he were tasting the joys of paradise. . . .To amuse him every morning they would ring glasses with a knife in front of him, or flagons with their stoppers, or pints with their lids, at which sound he would become merry and leap for joy, and would rock himself back and forth in his cradle.”