4 The Joy of Ministry— Part 1: In Spite of Trouble and Detractors (Philippians 1:12–18)
Now I want you to know, brethren, that my circumstances have turned out for the greater progress of the gospel, so that my imprisonment in the cause of Christ has become well known throughout the whole praetorian guard and to everyone else, and that most of the brethren, trusting in the Lord because of my imprisonment, have far more courage to speak the word of God without fear. Some, to be sure, are preaching Christ even from envy and strife, but some also from good will; the latter do it out of love, knowing that I am appointed for the defense of the gospel; the former proclaim Christ out of selfish ambition rather than from pure motives, thinking to cause me distress in my imprisonment. What then? Only that in every way, whether in pretense or in truth, Christ is proclaimed; and in this I rejoice. Yes, and I will rejoice, (1:12–18)
One of the surest measures of a Christian’s spiritual maturity is what it takes to rob him of his Spirit-bestowed joy. Paul’s maturity is evident in the present text as he makes it clear that difficult, unpleasant, painful, even life-threatening circumstances did not rob him of joy but rather caused it to increase.
Although it is a gift from God to every believer and administered by the Holy Spirit (Gal. 5:22), joy is not always constant and full (cf. 1 John 1:4). The only certain cause for loss of joy in a believer’s life is sin, which corrupts his fellowship with the Lord, who is the source of joy. Such sinful attitudes as dissatisfaction, bitterness, sullenness, doubt, fear, and negativism cause joy to be forfeited. Consequently, the only way to restore lost joy is to repent and return to proper worship of and obedience to God.
Anything other than sin—no matter how difficult, painful, or disappointing—need not take away the believer’s joy. Yet even minor things can do so if believers react sinfully to them. A change for the worse in health, job, finances, personal relationships, or other important areas of life can easily cause believers to question the Lord, His sovereign wisdom, and His gracious provision. When that happens, joy is one of the first casualties. Believers are especially vulnerable when such things happen suddenly, taking them off guard. Their response is often one of anger, doubt, distrust, fear, self-pity, ingratitude, or complaining. In such cases, events that are not sinful in themselves lead to sinful responses that steal joy.
God’s Word makes it clear that trouble in this life is certain to come (cf. Job 5:7; 14:1; Eccl. 2:23; John 16:33). Believers are not exempt from the common problems and difficulties all people face. They also face persecution for their faith from the hostile world system. “Remember the word that I said to you,” Jesus said, “‘A slave is not greater than his master.’ If they persecuted Me, they will also persecute you” (John 15:20). A short while later He added: “In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). To scattered Jewish Christians in the early church who were suffering great persecution, James wrote, “Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing” (James 1:2–4). But God can use even the most difficult trials for our good and for His glory.
No New Testament writer understood that truth better than Paul did. He was a larger-than-life model of a man of God whose joy never faltered. He resisted anything that threatened to come between him and his intimate fellowship with and trust in the Lord. Paul certainly experienced sorrow and tears, suffered grief and disappointment, and was troubled by sinful, weak, and contentious believers. Yet, there never seems to have been a time in his life as a believer when circumstances diminished his joy. In fact, it seems as if the worst affliction merely tightened his grip on salvation’s joy (Phil. 4:4,10–13).
By the time he wrote Philippians, Paul had experienced serious hardships of every sort. When he wrote this epistle, he was a prisoner in Rome. He had long desired to preach in that great city, having only a few years earlier written to the church there:
For God, whom I serve in my spirit in the preaching of the gospel of His Son, is my witness as to how unceasingly I make mention of you, always in my prayers making request, if perhaps now at last by the will of God I may succeed in coming to you. . . . I do not want you to be unaware, brethren, that often I have planned to come to you (and have been prevented so far) so that I may obtain some fruit among you also, even as among the rest of the Gentiles.” (Rom. 1:9–10, 13; cf. v. 15)
The apostle was expressing more than a personal desire to minister in a new and challenging place. He was convinced of the importance of bringing the gospel to that citadel of paganism and using Rome as a springboard for further ministry (even to Spain, Rom. 15:24). It seems doubtful he had in mind ministering in Rome as a prisoner. Nor did he likely envision getting there only after enduring a tempestuous storm that resulted in a disastrous shipwreck (cf. Acts 21:33–28:31). But however he got there or whatever the circumstances after he arrived, Paul intensely wanted to preach the gospel there “by the will of God” (Rom. 1:10).
Although he was not writing this epistle from a dungeon but a private residence (Acts 28:16, 30), Paul was chained night and day to a Roman soldier. He had no privacy when he ate, when he slept, when he wrote, when he prayed, or when he preached, taught, or visited with friends (vv. 17–31). Yet for a period of two years this very lack of privacy made it impossible for the Roman soldiers guarding him to avoid hearing the gospel and witnessing Paul’s remarkable Christlikeness. As the next verses suggest, this apparently led some of them to salvation (Phil. 1:13–14; cf. 4:22). Paul rejoiced because of the ministry to which the Lord had called him and because of the spiritual fruit that ministry produced, even while he was in chains.
Verses 12–26 of chapter one reveal four elements of Paul’s joy in ministry. He was joyful in spite of trouble, as long as Christ’s cause progressed (vv. 12–14); in spite of detractors, as long as Christ’s name was proclaimed (vv. 15–18); in spite of death, as long as the Lord was glorified (vv. 19–21); and in spite of being in the flesh, as long as the church was benefited (vv. 22–26).
IN SPITE OF TROUBLE—AS LONG AS CHRIST’S CAUSE PROGRESSED
Now I want you to know, brethren, that my circumstances have turned out for the greater progress of the gospel, so that my imprisonment in the cause of Christ has become well known throughout the whole praetorian guard and to everyone else, and that most of the brethren, trusting in the Lord because of my imprisonment, have far more courage to speak the word of God without fear. (1:12–14)
Now I want you to know translates a common Greek expression often found in ancient letters. Similar expressions—such as “I want you to get this” or “I want you to understand this”—are used today to call attention to an important point, especially one that might easily be missed, misunderstood, or hard to accept. Conversely, Paul often declared that he did not want his readers to be uninformed (cf. Rom. 1:13; 11:25; 1 Cor. 10:1; 12:1; 2 Cor. 1:8; 1 Thess. 4:13). In the present verse he wanted his beloved brethren to understand that he meant exactly what he said. Despite his circumstances, Paul was not bitter or discouraged but had great reason to rejoice.
My circumstances translates ta kata eme, which literally means “the things pertaining or relating to me.” It is rendered “my circumstances” in Ephesians 6:21. In Colossians 4:7 it is translated “my affairs.” Paul’s circumstances, he explains, dire as they seem to be from a human perspective, have turned out for the greater progress of the gospel. He did not ignore or make light of his imprisonment (cf. 1:7,14, 17; Col. 4:3, 18; Philem. 9, 13), but it was incidental to his willing, joyous, and immeasurably privileged status as a bondservant of Jesus Christ (1:1). Mallon (greater) is better translated “rather” (KJV), “actually” (NKJV), or “really” (NIV). Instead of hindering and restricting his ministry, Paul’s difficult circumstances had done the very opposite (cf. 2 Cor. 12:9–10).
It was the progress of the gospel for which Paul lived so passionately. To the Ephesian elders he declared, “I do not consider my life of any account as dear to myself, so that I may finish my course and the ministry which I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify solemnly of the gospel of the grace of God” (Acts 20:24). Everything else in Paul’s life had importance only to the degree that it affected the progress of the gospel.
Paul not only considered himself under obligation to the Lord, but also “both to Greeks and to barbarians, both to the wise and to the foolish. . . . For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek” (Rom. 1:14, 16). So strong was that obligation that Paul declared himself to be “under compulsion; for woe is me,” he said, “if I do not preach the gospel” (1 Cor. 9:16). “I do all things for the sake of the gospel,” he explained a few verses later (v. 23). His ministry and his earthly life were inseparable. His earthly life would not be completed until his ministry was completed, and when his ministry was completed, his earthly life would have no further purpose (cf. Phil. 1:21–26; 2 Tim. 4:6–8).
Prokop
(progress) describes not merely moving ahead but doing so against obstacles. The related verb was used of an explorer or of an army advance team hacking a path through dense trees and underbrush, moving ahead slowly and with considerable effort. Resistance is therefore inherent to that sort of progress, and no one knew better than Paul how inevitable the resistance of Satan (1 Thess. 2:18) and the world (1 John 2:15–16) is to the progress of the gospel. Resistance by pagan Rome had placed him in his present two-year imprisonment, and resistance by unbelieving Jewish leaders had imprisoned him in Caesarea for two years before that (Acts 24:27). He explained to the Corinthians that, although “a wide door for effective service has opened to me, . . . there are many adversaries” (1 Cor. 16:9). To the Thessalonians he wrote: “After we had already suffered and been mistreated in Philippi, as you know, we had the boldness in our God to speak to you the gospel of God amid much opposition” (1 Thess. 2:2). He encouraged Timothy,
Remember Jesus Christ, risen from the dead, descendant of David, according to my gospel, for which I suffer hardship even to imprisonment as a criminal; but the word of God is not imprisoned. For this reason I endure all things for the sake of those who are chosen, so that they also may obtain the salvation which is in Christ Jesus and with it eternal glory” (2 Tim. 2:8–10).
Far from lamenting, resenting, or complaining about his hardships, Paul acknowledged them as an unavoidable element of ministry. In his own eyes, however, they were but a small cost that he was more than willing to pay, because God used those trials as a means for furthering the progress of the gospel.
John Bunyan’s preaching was so popular and powerful, and so unacceptable to leaders in the seventeenth-century Church of England, that he was jailed in order to silence him. Refusing to be silent, he began to preach in the jail courtyard. He not only had a large audience of prisoners, but also hundreds of the citizens of Bedford and the surrounding area would come to the prison daily and stand outside to hear him expound Scripture. He was silenced verbally by being placed deep inside the jail and forbidden to preach at all. Yet in that silence, he spoke loudest of all and to more people than he could have imagined. It was during that time that he wrote The Pilgrim’s Progress, the great Christian classic that has ministered the gospel to tens of millions throughout the world. For several centuries, it was the most widely read and translated book in the world after the Bible. Bunyan’s opponents were able to stop his preaching for a few years, but they were not able to stop his ministry. Instead, they provided opportunity for it to be extended from deep within a jail in the small town of Bedford to the ends of the earth.
Paul could say to his persecutors what Joseph said to his brothers after they sold him into slavery: “It was not you who sent me here, but God; and He has made me a father to Pharaoh and lord of all his household and ruler over all the land of Egypt. . . . As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good” (Gen. 45:8; 50:20). Countless numbers of God’s saints have been able to echo that truth. Job could have expressed it to his “comforters,” Esther to Haman, Jeremiah to the false prophets and rulers in Judah, and the apostle John to those who exiled him to Patmos. As always, the Lord can turn efforts to thwart His kingdom into means for advancing it.
God’s supreme act of using men’s and Satan’s evil schemes to accomplish His purposes was, of course, His Son’s work of redemption. By His death and resurrection, Jesus Christ conquered sin and death, defeated Satan, and provided redemption for all in every age who turn to Him in genuine saving faith.
Paul next focused on two important achievements of his ministry, first on the progress of the gospel outside the church (v. 13) and then on its progress within the church (v. 14). First, he rejoiced that his imprisonment in the cause of Christ has become well known throughout the whole praetorian guard and to everyone else. Imprisonment is from desmon, which literally refers to a bond, such as that made with a chain or rope. By extension, the term came to be used of any forced restriction or confinement, in particular that of a prisoner. Speaking to a group of Jewish leaders in Rome during the time he wrote Philippians, Paul mentioned “wearing this chain for the sake of the hope of Israel” (Acts 28:20), and in Ephesians he spoke of being “an ambassador in chains” (Eph. 6:20). Paul’s “chains” (from halusis) were somewhat longer than a modern handcuff, about eighteen inches long. One end was attached to the prisoner’s wrist, the other to the guard’s. The chain was not removed from the prisoner as long as he was in custody, making both escape and privacy impossible. Although the apostle was allowed to live in private quarters (Acts 28:30), he was chained in that manner to a series of soldiers for a period of two years. Over those years, it is possible that several dozen different soldiers were assigned to guard Paul, each one becoming his captive audience. If they were not already aware of it, those soldiers soon came to realize that this amazing man was not imprisoned for committing a crime but for preaching the gospel. His faithfulness in the cause of Christ soon became well known throughout the whole praetorian guard and to everyone else. The faithful believers in the church at Rome had no doubt long prayed that the Lord would open a way to witness to the elite and influential praetorian guard. In His sovereign wisdom, He answered that prayer by making members of that guard captive to Paul for two years.
Prait
rion (praetorian guard) originally referred to an army commander’s tent, then to the residence of high-ranking military officers, and still later to that of any wealthy or influential person. In the Gospels it is used of the Roman governor’s residence in Jerusalem (cf. Matt. 27:27; Mark 15:16; John 18:28, 33; 19:9). In Acts 23:35 the governor’s palace in Caesarea is called Herod’s Praetorium.
Some commentators therefore take the reference in Philippians 1:13 to represent the barracks of the praetorian guard. But the following phrase (and to everyone else) indicates Paul was speaking of persons, not a place. The praetorian guard was originally composed of some ten thousand handpicked soldiers. It had been established by Caesar Augustus, who was emperor at the time of Jesus’ birth (Luke 2:1). These men were dispersed strategically throughout the city of Rome to keep the general peace and especially to protect the emperor. Later emperors greatly increased their numbers, and Tiberius built them a conspicuous fortified camp to make sure they had a high-profile presence in Rome. Members of the praetorian guard served for twelve (later sixteen) years, after which they were granted the highest honors and privileges, including very generous severance pay. Eventually they became so powerful that they were considered “king-makers,” who not only protected but also chose the emperors.
The results of Paul’s stay in Rome were predictable. In addition to hearing his preaching and teaching, the soldiers also experienced firsthand his graciousness, his remarkable patience and perseverance in great affliction, his wisdom, his deep convictions, his genuineness, his humility, and his genuine love and concern for them. They were aware of the false accusations made against him in Caesarea and the personal risk he had taken by appealing to Caesar. Both his message and his character had a profound impact on those elite, hardened, and influential soldiers. How many of the praetorian guard became Christians is unknown, but those who did became evangelists. It was doubtless through those men that members of Caesar’s own household were converted (4:22).
The news about Paul spread throughout the city of Rome (to everyone else), and for two years many visited him “in his own rented quarters, [where he] was welcoming all who came to him, preaching the kingdom of God and teaching concerning the Lord Jesus Christ with all openness, unhindered” (Acts 28:30–31). What to most people, including many Christians, would appear to have been an unmitigated disaster was an unequaled opportunity for the progress of the gospel.
At times the hired room would be thronged with people, to whom the Apostle spoke words of life; and after they withdrew the sentry would sit beside him, filled with many questionings as to the meaning of the words which this strange prisoner spoke. At other times, when all had gone, and especially at night, when the moonlight shone on the distant slopes of Soracte, soldier and Apostle would be left to talk, and in those dark, lonely hours the Apostle would tell soldier after soldier the story of his own proud career in early life, of his opposition to Christ, and his ultimate conversion, and would make it clear that he was there as a prisoner, not for any crime, not because he had raised rebellion or revolt, but because he believed that Him whom the Roman soldiers had crucified, under Pilate, was the Son of God and the Saviour of men. As these tidings spread, and the soldiers talked them over with one another, the whole guard would become influenced in sympathy with the meek and gentle Apostle, who always showed himself so kindly to the men as they shared, however involuntarily, his imprisonment.
How absolutely consistent the Apostle must have been! If there had been the least divergence, day or night, from the high standard which he upheld, his soldier-companion would have caught it, and passed it on to others. The fact that so many became earnest Christians, and that the Word of Jesus was known far and wide throughout the praetorian guard, indicates how absolutely consistent the Apostle’s life was. (The Epistle to the Philippians [Grand Rapids: Baker, 1952], 36–37)
Paul’s faithful perseverance not only was winning converts outside the church but also was strengthening and encouraging believers within the church. The apostle’s courage and faithfulness during his confinement caused most of his fellow brethren, both in Rome and beyond, to be more trusting in the Lord because of his imprisonment and to have far more courage to speak the word of God without fear. His influence was pervasive and far-reaching. It was not merely some believers, but most of the brethren, who were encouraged by his imprisonment. Although influential and disruptive, those who criticized and slandered Paul (1:15,17) were in the minority.
The implication is that, before his imprisonment, believers were afraid, or at least reluctant, to openly share their faith. Hostility to this new sect of Judaism, as it was commonly considered throughout the empire, was growing. Not only were Jewish leaders intensifying their opposition and persecution, but pagans also began to see Christianity as a threat both to their religion and to their livelihood (Acts 19:23–41).
Paul’s example gave his brethren . . . far more courage to speak the word of God without fear. As they saw how God protected him and blessed his ministry, despite persecution and imprisonment, their courage was renewed and their boldness and zeal intensified. His strength became their strength, as his example touched them. Through the Holy Spirit, the impact of that one faithful life revolutionized and energized the entire church. The apostle’s fellow saints discovered that, like the cowardice they once experienced, courage is contagious.
Freedom to proclaim the gospel is understandably cherished today by Christians in the so-called free world. But many, if not most, of the great expansions of the faith and spiritual revivals within the church have come during times of opposition and persecution. Christianity was long outlawed in communist China and even today in much of that nation public expression of Christianity is still severely restricted. Yet by many responsible estimates, there are millions of Bible-believing Christians in that great country. By contrast, in most of the “free” Western world the influence, if not the size, of the evangelical church has been continually eroding.
Paul’s circumstances were beyond most people’s ability to comprehend. Yet he was a model of joy, contentment, and peace. Those inner qualities obviously were not based on his physical comfort, his possessions, his freedom, his self-satisfaction, or his reputation and prestige. They were based entirely on his trust in his gracious and sovereign Lord and his delight in the furtherance of the gospel.
IN SPITE OF DETRACTORS—
AS LONG AS CHRIST’S NAME WAS PROCLAIMED
Some, to be sure, are preaching Christ even from envy and strife, but some also from good will; the latter do it out of love, knowing that I am appointed for the defense of the gospel; the former proclaim Christ out of selfish ambition rather than from pure motives, thinking to cause me distress in my imprisonment. What then? Only that in every way, whether in pretense or in truth, Christ is proclaimed; and in this I rejoice. Yes, and I will rejoice, (1:15–18)
Like the Lord during His earthly ministry, Paul had more than his share of detractors, most of them from the Jewish and pagan religious establishments. The church soon came to have detractors within its own ranks who maligned their leaders, more often than not those who were the most godly and effective.
One of the most discouraging experiences for a servant of God is that of being falsely accused by fellow believers, especially coworkers in the church. To be maligned by an unbeliever is expected; to be maligned by another believer is unexpected. The pain runs very deep when one’s ministry is slandered, misrepresented, and unjustly criticized by fellow preachers and teachers of the gospel. That is precisely the situation Paul faced in Rome, where some of the church leaders, in opposition to him, were preaching Christ even from envy and strife.
In the church at Corinth there were anti-Paul as well as pro-Paul factions in the congregation. “Now I mean this,” he explained, “that each one of you is saying, ‘I am of Paul,’ and ‘I of Apollos,’ and ‘I of Cephas,’ and ‘I of Christ’” (1 Cor. 1:12). Those who favored Apollos and Peter (Cephas, 1 Cor. 3:22) doubtless had reservations about Paul, as those who favored him probably had about the other two. The “Christ” faction apparently considered themselves the spiritual elite and the others as inferior.
Paul’s detractors, who were preaching Christ even from envy and strife, were not heretics like the Judaizers, but were theologically orthodox. They preached and taught the true gospel of Jesus Christ. They were not heralding “a different gospel,” as were some in Corinth and Galatia (2 Cor. 11:4; Gal. 1:6). Nor were they “false apostles, deceitful workers, disguising themselves as apostles of Christ” (2 Cor. 11:13) or part of “the false circumcision” mentioned later in the present letter (Phil. 3:2).
To be sure indicates a type of parenthesis, a brief departure from Paul’s main theme of joy. “I realize full well,” he was saying in essence, “that everything is not as it should be in the church. I am not naive about the motives of a few pastors and evangelists. I know they are preaching Christ even from envy and strife.” The problem was not in those preachers’ theology but in their motives, not in what they preached but in why they preached it, namely, from envy and strife.
Phthonos (envy) is the desire to deprive others of what is rightfully theirs, to wish that they did not have it or had it to a lesser degree. It was “because of envy” that the Jewish multitude (Matt. 27:18) and the chief priests (Mark 15:10) handed Jesus over to Pilate for crucifixion. Among the many evil characteristics of “the ungodliness and unrighteousness of men who suppress the truth in unrighteousness” (Rom. 1:18) is envy—listed beside greed, murder, strife, deceit, malice, gossip, and other serious sins (Rom. 1:29; 13:13; 1 Cor. 1:11; 3:3; 2 Cor. 12:20; Gal. 5:19–21; 1 Tim. 6:4;Titus 3:9). Paul reminded Titus that “we also once were foolish ourselves, disobedient, deceived, enslaved to various lusts and pleasures, spending our life in malice and envy, hateful, hating one another” (Titus 3:3). But believers possess a new nature (2 Cor. 5:17) and are commanded by the Spirit’s power to put “aside all malice and all deceit and hypocrisy and envy and all slander” (1 Peter 2:1). It goes without saying that Christians frequently fail to be obedient to the Word and submissive to the Spirit.
Envy, wishing others did not have what they have, is closely related to jealousy, which is wishing to have what someone else possesses. From the context, it seems likely that Paul’s detractors were both envious and jealous of the apostle. They envied Paul’s giftedness, his blessings, his intellect, his effectiveness in ministry, and, perhaps especially, his being highly respected and beloved in the church. They may even have envied his personal encounters with the resurrected and exalted Lord Jesus Christ (cf. Acts 9:1–6; 18:9–11; 22:17–18; 23:11). Consequently, like all those motivated by envy and jealousy, they considered the apostle to be a threat to their own prominence and influence in the church.
Strife is from eris, which refers to contention, especially with a spirit of enmity. As it is used here, it is frequently associated with envy and jealousy, as well as with other sinful passions, such as greed and malice. Envy leads to competition, hostility, and conflict.
Paul’s purpose in confronting this issue was not to gain sympathy for himself, much less to retaliate against his detractors. He was rather pointing out that faithfulness in ministry includes right motives as well as right doctrine. There have always been those whose service in the church is to a large measure motivated by a desire to exceed others. That makes them resent those who are respected and whose ministries are fruitful. Such people inevitably breed envy and strife and thereby do great harm to Christ’s church.
Exactly what was being said about Paul to hurt him and wreck his reputation is not revealed. But because the charges were false, the particulars are not important. The apostle’s purpose was not to be defensive but simply to give a correct account of the situation. As in Corinth (cf. 1 Cor. 1:11–17), it is probable that several factions were involved, each claiming special allegiances, insight, and authority. When false teachers gained a hearing in Corinth, they ruthlessly attacked Paul, who wrote 2 Corinthians to answer those attacks (cf. 2 Cor. 10:10; 11:6). Like Job’s friends, some of the envious preachers in Rome may have claimed that Paul’s imprisonment was the Lord’s punishment for some secret sin (cf. John 9:1–2). Others may have believed Paul was in prison because he lacked the victorious faith that would have gained his release. In their view, he obviously failed to fully tap into the Holy Spirit’s power. The fact that they were free and he was in prison was proof to them that his spiritual power and usefulness were inferior to theirs. Otherwise, why did God not miraculously free Paul as He had at Philippi (Acts 16:25–26)?
Still others may have presumptuously thought that the Lord kept Paul in prison because of his supposed inadequate and misleading preaching of God’s Word. With access to the apostle limited, people had more opportunity to listen to his opponents, who claimed a deeper and more complete understanding of the faith. Like some Christians today, they perhaps felt Paul was old-fashioned and that a fresher, more relevant approach was needed to reach the sophisticated people of Rome. Others may have argued that if Paul had been completely uncompromising and true to the faith he would have been martyred long beforehand. Therefore he must have made a deal with the Romans to protect his life and to secure favorable treatment. Such speculations provide some reasonable idea of what was being said about Paul.
But some also, Paul goes on to say with obvious gratification, preach the gospel from good will. Like envy and strife, good will (eudokia) pertains to motive, in this case the positive motive of desiring what is best for others. Those believers in Rome not only did not criticize Paul but also enthusiastically supported him and appreciated his work. Their motives were unselfishly pure. They were sympathetic and grateful to the apostle for his faithfulness in proclaiming the gospel and for his loving ministry to them.
Unlike the detractors, the latter (those with good will) preached Christ out of love. Only a few years earlier, in his first letter to the bickering and factious church in Corinth, he wrote,
If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but do not have love, I have become a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy, and know all mysteries and all knowledge; and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. And if I give all my possessions to feed the poor, and if I surrender my body to be burned, but do not have love, it profits me nothing. . . . Now faith, hope, love, abide these three; but the greatest of these is love. (1 Cor. 13:1–3, 13)
Apart from the spirit and motive of love, nothing done in the Lord’s name—no preaching, teaching, or service, no matter how orthodox or impressive—is truly acceptable to Him. It amounts to nothing.
In context, it seems that the love Paul speaks of here is primarily personal love for him. Those believers motivated by good will doubtless loved the Lord and each other, but the emphasis here is on their love for the apostle. They deeply cared about him and were concerned for his personal welfare as well as for the impact of his ministry. They knew he was not in prison because of any secret sin or shortcoming. They knew he was not there because of unfaithfulness but because of loyalty to the Lord, not because his work was a failure but because it was a powerful success, not because he was out of God’s will but because he was in the very center of it. Those believers knew Paul was divinely appointed for the defense of the gospel (cf. Phil. 1:7) and were grateful for his faithful obedience to that call—an obedience that had brought them rich spiritual blessing.
Keimai (appointed), which has the root meaning of lying down or reclining, came to be used of an official appointment and sometimes of destiny. In the military it was used of a special assignment, such as guard duty or defense of a strategic position. When blessing the infant Jesus, Simeon “said to Mary His mother, ‘Behold, this Child is appointed for the fall and rise of many in Israel, and for a sign to be opposed’” (Luke 2:34). Using the term in a more figurative way, Paul reminded the Thessalonians that they should not “be disturbed by [their] afflictions; for [they themselves knew] that we have been destined [keimetha] for this” (1 Thess. 3:3).
Paul was divinely appointed for the defense of the gospel. Jesus declared at the apostle’s conversion that Paul was “to bear [His] name before the Gentiles and kings and the sons of Israel” (Acts 9:15; cf. 13:2; Gal. 1:15–16; Eph. 3:6–7). His imprisonment in Rome was neither an accident of fate nor primarily the decision of men, not even of Paul’s decision to appeal to Caesar (Acts 25:11). Above all else, it was an integral part of his divine assignment to defend the gospel. In this case, he was destined to be in that incarceration by God’s will, so he could preach the gospel in Rome.
In verse 17, Paul refers again to his detractors, the former group of believers (v. 15a), who proclaim Christ out of selfish ambition rather than from pure motives. As noted above, it was not their doctrine that was at fault; they did proclaim Christ. But they were not preaching Christ for His glory and honor but for their own, to fulfill their selfish ambition.
Eritheia (selfish ambition) did not originally have a bad connotation but merely referred to working for hire. Eventually, however, it acquired the meaning of looking out solely for one’s own interests, regardless of the consequences to others. It was used of career professionals who ruthlessly tried to climb to the top of their fields in any way they could, and of politicians who sought office at any expense.
Paul’s selfishly ambitious detractors obviously did not preach from pure motives. Not only were they self-seeking, but even worse, they also sought to do disservice to Paul, thinking to cause [him] distress in [his] imprisonment. They unjustly criticized and accused him for the malicious purpose of aggravating and intensifying his distress. They exhibited unbelievable cruelty born of jealousy, using Paul’s imprisonment to discredit him and to promote themselves.
But Paul’s primary distress was not due to his affliction, whether caused by Rome or his fellow believers. He knew that the hypocrisy and evil motives of his detractors were doing great harm to the cause of Christ, and that is what caused him the deepest grief. As already noted, he could not have helped being hurt personally. But he was not looking for sympathy or seeking to defend himself. He knew that other faithful leaders in the church faced criticism and opposition, both from the world and from fellow believers. His reaction to his present situation in Rome would set the example for other faithful servants of the Lord. They would then be able to face their own afflictions with the same peace of mind, spirit of forgiveness, and trust in the triumph of God’s truth that he exhibited.
Paul was fully aware that immature believers are prone to “strife, jealousy, angry tempers, disputes, slanders, gossip, arrogance, disturbances” (2 Cor. 12:20). He warned Timothy to be on guard against anyone in the churches who “has a morbid interest in controversial questions and disputes about words, out of which arise envy, strife, abusive language, evil suspicions” (1 Tim. 6:4).
More important, though, he saw the larger picture. Because those envious men were actually preaching the true gospel, people were being saved. “What then?” he therefore asked rhetorically, answering: Only that in every way, whether in pretense or in truth, Christ is proclaimed; and in this I rejoice. Yes, and I will rejoice. In other words, if the cause of Christ was being served, even in pretense by those envious detractors, he was glad. Although the detractors’ motive was not primarily to exalt Christ or to win souls but to exalt themselves at Paul’s expense, he was not bitter. He knew that, although He did not honor those men who preached the truth out of pretense, the sovereign God nevertheless honored their message when Christ [was] proclaimed. That reality greatly pleased Paul.
God’s Word is always powerful, no matter what the motives of the one who proclaims it. The last thing the prophet Jonah wanted to happen was for Nineveh to repent at his preaching; but the message he gave from God produced repentance in spite of his ill intentions (cf. Jonah 4:1–9). Even a preacher or teacher who is envious, jealous, and selfish can be used by God when his message is true to the Word. God always honors His Word, and His Word always bears fruit. “My word . . . which goes forth from My mouth . . . will not return to Me empty, without accomplishing what I desire, and without succeeding in the matter for which I sent it” (Isa. 55:11). As the nineteenth-century Scottish minister John Eadie wisely commented, “The virtue lies in the gospel, not in the gospeller; in the exposition, and not in the expounder” (A Commentary on the Greek Text of the Epistle of Paul to the Philippians [reprint; Grand Rapids: Baker, 1979], 40).
In truth refers back to those who were preaching “from good will; . . . out of love, . . . [and] from pure motives” (Phil. 1:15–17). Truth here refers not to the accuracy of what they said, but rather to the truthfulness and integrity of their hearts. In marked contrast to the detractors, they were not hypocrites preaching the pure gospel from impure motives.
Katangell (proclaimed) refers to announcing or declaring something with authority. Whether the gospel was proclaimed by jealous, hurtful preachers, or by those who were faithfully and humbly preaching the gospel with pure motives, it was accurately proclaimed, it bore fruit, and Paul could only rejoice. He reinforced his earnestness by adding, Yes, and I will rejoice. His joy, his gracious attitude, and his grasp of the greater issue of gospel truth were not transitory, but were resolutely permanent (cf. Ps. 4:7–8; Rom. 12:12; 2 Cor. 6:10).
Absolutely nothing could steal Paul’s God-given joy. He was expendable; the gospel was not. His own privacy and freedom were incidental, and he cared nothing for personal recognition or credit. Neither the painful chains of Rome nor the even more painful criticism of fellow Christians could keep him from rejoicing, because Christ was being proclaimed and His church was growing and maturing. The apostle’s view of his life and ministry are perhaps best expressed in 2 Corinthians:
And working together with Him, we also urge you not to receive the grace of God in vain—for He says, “At the acceptable time I listened to you, and on the day of salvation I helped you.” Behold, now is “the acceptable time,” behold, now is “the day of salvation”—giving no cause for offense in anything, so that the ministry will not be discredited, but in everything commending ourselves as servants of God, in much endurance, in afflictions, in hardships, in distresses, in beatings, in imprisonments, in tumults, in labors, in sleeplessness, in hunger, in purity, in knowledge, in patience, in kindness, in the Holy Spirit, in genuine love, in the word of truth, in the power of God; by the weapons of righteousness for the right hand and the left, by glory and dishonor, by evil report and good report; regarded as deceivers and yet true; as unknown yet well-known, as dying yet behold, we live; as punished yet not put to death, as sorrowful yet always rejoicing, as poor yet making many rich, as having nothing yet possessing all things. (2 Cor. 6:1–10)
Paul’s example of selfless humility shows that the worse circumstances are, the greater joy can be. When the seemingly secure things in life begin to collapse, when suffering and sorrow increase, believers should be drawn into ever-deeper fellowship with the Lord. It is then that they will most fully experience the enduring joy the apostle knew so well. This joy is far greater and more satisfying than any fleeting circumstantial happiness. And this unmixed joy comes not because of circumstances but in spite of them and through them.