Philippians 2:19–30

I HOPE IN the Lord Jesus 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 everyone looks out for his own interests, not those of Jesus Christ. 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 come soon.

25But I think it is 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 longs 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 men like him, 30because he almost died for the work of Christ, risking his life to make up for the help you could not give me.

Original Meaning

Why Not Timothy? (2:19–24)

Paul begins by telling the Philippians that he hopes to send Timothy to them “soon” (v. 20), which means, of course, that Timothy will not be coming right away. This news may have surprised and disappointed the Philippians, for Paul explains at length in the following verses why Timothy must stay with him until he knows the results of his trial. When Timothy is finally free to travel, however, Paul says that he will send him in order to be cheered by news from the Philippians.

Paul’s expectation of cheerful news does not mean, as some interpreters have suggested, that the Philippians were not experiencing problems with disunity after all and that those who were seeking their own interests above the interests of others (2:4) were people around Paul at the time he wrote the letter (cf. 1:15–17; 2:21).4 The statement is instead an example of Paul’s commendatory style of exhortation. Just as in 1 Corinthians Paul commends the Corinthian believers for the richness of their speech and knowledge and the abundance of spiritual gifts but then later in the letter issues stern admonitions on precisely these subjects, and just as he commends Philemon for refreshing “the hearts of the saints” (Philem. 7) before asking him to pardon Onesimus, “who,” he says, “is my very heart” (Philem. 10–12), so here he takes an optimistic view of the Philippians’ ability to stop their feuding.

His statement is both an encouragement to the Philippians not to disappoint his expectations (cf. 2 Cor. 7:14; 9:3–4) and a realistic appraisal of their spiritual maturity. If he had been worried about the Thessalonians’ steadfastness amid persecution and then been relieved to hear from Timothy that they were doing well (1 Thess. 3:2–6), and if he had been concerned about the Corinthians’ attitude toward him only to hear from Titus that they had repented of their belligerence (2 Cor. 7:5–7), then he had no reason to think that the Philippians would not also respond obediently to his admonitions in this letter.

But Timothy is not bearing the letter. Why? Paul answers this question by telling the Philippians something they already know (v. 22), and something that probably explains why they are eager to see him: Timothy is an exceptional ally in times of trouble. Paul shows this by giving Timothy three commendations. (1) Timothy understands what it means to be united in spirit with other believers, both with Paul and with the Philippians (v. 20). In 2:2 Paul had urged the Philippians to be “one in spirit” (sympsychoi), and here he uses a similar term to say that Timothy is of like mind with him (isopsychos). The way in which Timothy is like-minded with Paul, however, is that he has a genuine interest in the Philippians’ welfare. (2) Timothy stands apart from every other believer whom Paul might have sent to the Philippians because, unlike them, he puts the interests of Jesus Christ above his own interests (v. 21). Like Paul, who was more concerned for the advancement of the gospel than that he was in prison (1:12) or that other Christians were making his hardship more difficult (1:17–18), and like Christ, who put obedience ahead of exploiting the privileges available to him as God (2:6–8), Timothy subordinated his own interests to the “things of Jesus Christ” (pers. trans.). (3) Timothy’s mettle had been tested in the difficulty of apostolic service, and both Paul and the Philippians had found him as faithful as a son to his father, as willing to slave (douleuo; NIV “serve”) in the work of the gospel as Paul himself.5

It is no wonder that Paul, in light of these qualities, feels that he can send Timothy only after he gains a clear view of the outcome of his imprisonment. With some believers around him having their own interests more at heart than those of the gospel (v. 21) and some seeking to increase his affliction (1:17), it is understandable that Paul would not want to spare this trusted comrade. Eventually he will send him, and Paul expects eventually to come in person, but for the present another messenger must suffice.

Bridging Contexts

THIS PASSAGE POSES in an especially clear way the primary interpretive problem of all of Paul’s letters. How can correspondence intended to address ancient, culture-bound circumstances function as God’s eternally valid word? Even if we understand the answer to this question, how is it possible to determine, from our own cultural and chronological distance, precisely what those ancient circumstances were? In this passage one of Paul’s primary purposes is to tell the Philippians why Timothy is not coming to them as soon as they expected and why Epaphroditus is coming sooner. But who are Timothy and Epaphroditus anyway, and can we be sure that the scenario suggested above is the correct one? What, moreover, do the travels of two little-known ancient Christians have to do with Christians twenty centuries later? Karl Barth has put the dilemma succinctly:

Here we have a paragraph that does not contain any direct “teaching.” Paul discusses a few points of a purely personal human kind concerning the relationship and intercourse between himself and the Philippian congregation. If we did not know the context, it would be tempting to say that as far as the passage in itself is concerned, it is not absolutely necessary to conclude that the relationship and intercourse in question have any particular connexion with the cause of Jesus Christ.10

Specifically, a passage like this presents two stumbling blocks, one exegetical and the other theological. From the exegetical perspective, it is difficult to understand much of the passage because crucial details are missing. Paul could assume that the Philippians would fill in the gaps with their own knowledge of the situation or with information supplied orally by Epaphroditus. None of that information, of course, is available to us, and so the temptation to resort to speculation is strong. Thus some have said that Paul commends Timothy so highly because he expects resistance to his authority from a cantankerous and divided community and knows that Timothy needs his commendation because of his “somewhat spineless character.”11 Others have said the opposite: Paul’s expectation of cheerful news from Philippi (v. 19) shows that the community is not divided at all.12 Some believe that Epaphroditus was so homesick for his friends at Philippi that he had already left when Paul wrote the letter.13 Others think that he is “one of the most attractive and heroic characters to be found in the annals of early Christianity.”14 Some believe that Epaphroditus fell ill while with Paul, others that he became sick on the way.15 Occasionally interpreters even suggest the nature of the illness.16

As we seek to bring this passage out of Paul’s world and into our own, it seems prudent to base our understanding on the minimum amount of speculation necessary to make sense of the passage. If we do not follow this path, then the points of application we draw from the passage will be as ephemeral as the speculation on which they are based.

We can say with certainty that Timothy and Epaphroditus represent a small part of the complex network of fellow laborers and messengers that surrounded Paul and his churches.17 Coworkers appear to have always accompanied Paul in his missionary ventures as a means of extending the apostle’s efforts. Thus Timothy could be dispatched to Thessalonica to “strengthen and encourage” the church there and to “find out about [their] faith” (1 Thess. 2:2–5). He could also visit Corinth with Paul’s full authority to remind the Corinthians of Paul’s “way of life in Christ Jesus” (1 Cor. 4:17). Titus and Tychicus apparently functioned in much the same way (2 Cor. 8:16, 24; 12:18; Eph. 6:21–22; Col. 4:7; 2 Tim. 4:12; Titus 3:12).18

Paul also recruited coworkers from specific churches to remain in those churches as leaders. He apparently instructed them in the basics of Christian belief and ethics (2 Thess. 3:6–11; cf. 1 Cor. 4:17b; Phil. 3:17), and urged his churches to submit to their authority (Gal. 6:6; 1 Thess. 5:12–13). In Philippi, Euodia, Syntyche, Clement, an anonymous “loyal yokefellow,” and Epaphroditus (2:25; 4:2–3) were among these special coworkers; perhaps they were the “overseers and deacons” of 1:1.

Timothy and Epaphroditus, then, stand under Paul’s apostolic authority in much the same way as priests and ministers in various Episcopalian and Presbyterian denominations today stand under the authority of their bishops and presbyteries. Just as a Roman Catholic bishop or an Orthodox metropolitan can, at his discretion, remove a priest from a parish and send him to a new one, and just as a Presbyterian presbytery or synod can bar a minister from serving in churches within its jurisdiction, so Paul could keep Timothy with him and send Epaphroditus back earlier than expected as he thought best.19

Once we have understood all of this, however, we still face the question of whether the passage has much to say to us. The Philippians knew Timothy and Epaphroditus, but we do not. These two believers may have been able to serve as illustrations of the qualities Paul has advised the Philippians to cultivate in 2:1–4, and the Philippians may have been heartened to hear that friends whom they knew were doing what Paul considered necessary, but how does that help us? Can we glean from this passage anything more than a repetition of the list of qualities in 2:1–4?

This passage has much to say to us theologically if we are content to dwell on what it implies more than on what it says directly. A rich theological subtext runs, like the road beneath Epaphroditus’ feet, throughout this passage. This subtext implies a direct connection between Paul’s understanding of the gospel and his day-to-day existence. His theology was hammered out in a pastoral context and retained its connection with that context. In a theological world where statements and confessions of faith have increasingly become objects of intense debate, we would do well to remember that we can come to precisely correct theological conclusions in the abstract and still fall short of what the gospel requires of those who believe it. For Paul, as for James, faith without works lay dead, and knowledge without love was worth nothing.20

This is not to say that a carefully considered theology is unimportant—Paul clearly had one, and if a pastoral need had required him to do so, he would probably have written it down in systematic form. But Paul understood that a theology abstracted from the behavior it demanded was distorted and inadequate. Karl Barth, the most influential systematic theologian of this century, said of this passage,

This is how it looks when a man does not only think these thoughts but, because they are true and necessary thoughts, must live constantly in their shadow and can never get away from them in his concrete decisions.21

The passage also highlights a common characteristic of Timothy and Epaphroditus that is not specifically addressed in 2:1–4 but which, if Paul has presented these two believers as models for imitation, is nevertheless important to observe. Both men are faithful to their assigned tasks despite having to fulfill them in the face of hardship. The phrase “But you know that Timothy has proved himself” could be translated more literally, “But his proven worth you know.” The phrase “proven worth” interprets a Greek word (dokime) that refers to the “character” of one who has remained faithful despite hardship. It is the quality that, according to Romans 5:4, results from perseverance and produces an eschatological hope that God will not disappoint. Timothy certainly had it. He remained with Paul and stood by the gospel from the time Paul first recruited him to be his coworker on the second missionary journey (Acts 16:1–3) to the period when, after Paul’s death, he faded from history (Heb. 13:23).

Epaphroditus had it too. Although we know of him only from this brief paragraph and 4:18, his willingness to risk his life to help Paul in the work of the gospel shows that he stands in Timothy’s tradition. Paul clearly points out the value of this quality when he tells the Philippians to “honor men like him.” As we bring this passage into the contemporary church, we should not ignore this emphasis.

This passage also illustrates how Paul put his theological convictions into action in a delicate interpersonal matter, and, in a letter that advises its readers to follow Paul’s example (3:17; 4:9), it is not inappropriate to learn from his actions in this situation. First, we observe Paul doing what he has asked the Philippians to do and what he probably intended the Philippians to see Timothy and Epaphroditus doing as well—he puts the interests of others ahead of his own. Paul could have used the help of both Timothy and Epaphroditus. Epaphroditus had, after all, been commissioned not only to bring him a monetary gift from Philippi but to minister to his needs in ways that the Philippian congregation could not; thus, Paul might have insisted that he stay with him. Instead, Paul not only sent him back in response to Epaphroditus’ longing for his countrymen, but he sent him back with a strong commendation. This is the kind of deference that Paul probably hoped Euodia and Syntyche would show each other (4:2) and that the whole congregation would show for their fellow believers (2:14). It is clearly the quality of self-sacrifice that should also characterize modern Christians, particularly those within the church who, like Paul, have authority over others.

Second, the way in which Paul speaks of his plans to send Timothy and to visit Philippi himself is theologically significant. In both verses 19 and 24

Paul says that he has made these travel plans “in the Lord (Jesus).” He probably means by this that although he plans to send Timothy and to come himself, the Lord Jesus may send him in a different direction.22 This happened frequently in Paul’s missionary endeavors. God had directed Paul to Philippi originally in spite of Paul’s own plans to minister elsewhere (Acts 16:6–10). Paul had promised to visit Corinth twice on a journey from Ephesus to Macedonia, but God apparently led him not to return after the congregation spurned him on his first visit (2 Cor. 1:12–2:1; cf. 1 Cor. 16:7). He had frequently hoped to visit Rome, but his divinely directed labors in the east had prevented him from doing so (Rom. 1:11; 15:23). Since Paul was a slave of Christ Jesus (1:1), his travel plans were not his own but were made “in the Lord,” under the command of his master.

Third, Paul’s understanding of hardship is clarified in this passage. Paul tells the Philippians that had Epaphroditus died, he would have experienced “sorrow upon sorrow.” Commentators differ about the precise cause of the sorrow that Epaphroditus’ death would have increased. Was it Paul’s sorrow over his friend’s illness? The sorrow that his believing opponents had caused him in prison? The imprisonment itself?23 The cause will always elude us, but it is nevertheless clear that Paul’s joyful attitude in the midst of his adversity did not exclude legitimate feelings of sorrow. The Philippians’ joy upon seeing Epaphroditus and the latter’s relief at being with his friends again give Paul “less anxiety” (more literally, “less sorrow”), but he is still not entirely without a sense of grief.24

Thus, the joy Paul experiences when the gospel makes progress is not a glib happiness that overlooks pain and suffering, but a mature understanding of God’s ability to make his purposes prosper even amid human pain. Believers may and should grieve over such pain, but as Paul says elsewhere, they should not “grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope” (1 Thess. 4:13). This hopeful grief falls well within the boundaries of Christian joy.

In summary, this passage reminds us that Paul’s theology was a theology for life as he lived from day to day. He had no unhealthy gap between theological convictions and behavior, but a complex interweaving of the two. This is visible not only in the way Timothy and Epaphroditus exemplify what it means to put the interests of Jesus Christ, and therefore of other people, ahead of their own concerns, but also in the way that Paul himself puts the interests of Epaphroditus first, makes his plans contingent on the Lord’s guidance, and, despite the letter’s emphasis on joy, legitimizes sorrow over human pain.

Contemporary Significance

PERHAPS IT IS only during times of persecution that the church has been free from the plague of both clergy and laity who lend intellectual assent to its teaching and go through the motions of its liturgy but who never allow the gospel to soak deeply into their souls and transform their lives. There are professional theologians at leftward-leaning denominational colleges and seminaries who have little connection with the church and who seem unconcerned about their accommodations to a sin-tainted culture. They have counterparts at conservative Christian institutions who are so concerned that everyone confess precisely the same creed that they, like the Pharisees of old, need to “go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice’ ” (Matt. 9:13; cf. 12:7; Hosea 6:6).25 Some ministers of the gospel can skillfully proclaim God’s word in the pulpit, but refuse to take much time away from their sermon preparation schedules for the mundane matters of pastoral service: calling on the sick, helping the needy, and cheering the discouraged. Many lay people attend church services and can recite sections of the catechism, the creed, the liturgy, and the Bible but conduct their day-to-day affairs in ways little different from those around them who lay no claim to Christian commitment. Assent to Christian doctrine is somehow segregated in all of these instances from commitment to Christian behavior.

Against this psychologically and spiritually unhealthy separation of belief from behavior, Philippians 2:19–30 places the examples of Timothy, Epaphroditus, and Paul himself. Because of their commitment to the gospel, Paul and Timothy have adopted the role of slaves (2:22; cf. 1:1), and both have been willing to put the spiritual welfare of the Philippians above their own interests (2:20). Epaphroditus, likewise, has been willing to risk his life to help Paul as he seeks to fulfill his apostolic calling (2:30). Timothy, Epaphroditus, and Paul, then, have understood that Christian commitment means losing one’s life in order to find it, forfeiting the whole world but gaining one’s soul. A divided commitment to the gospel, as Jesus never tired of saying in various ways, is actually no commitment at all.26

One of the most important ways in which an undivided commitment to the gospel can be expressed, as Timothy illustrates, is in faithfulness to the gospel and its demands despite the hardship that such faithfulness sometimes requires. Timothy’s mettle had been tested over the years of his slave-labor with Paul for the advancement of the gospel, and both Paul and the Philippians valued this quality (2:22)—a quality that is important because it produces assurance that we belong to God’s people and will stand before him acquitted on the final day (Rom. 5:4).

It is not a quality, however, that Western, and particularly American, culture presently reinforces. This is most clearly visible in the now well-known statistics on divorce in the United States. Although many who marry promise something similar to the traditional vow to be a “loving and faithful” husband or wife “in plenty and in want; in joy and in sorrow; in sickness and in health; as long as we both shall live,” Americans divorce with astonishing frequency. Research published in 1989 predicted that between 50 and 60 percent of all new marriages would end in divorce and that over half of all children would, by the year 2000, become stepchildren.27 Among social scientists, divorce is often viewed not as a deviation from the norm or as something undesirable, but as “one path in the normal family life cycle.”28 Unfaithfulness to others, it seems, has been replaced by the notion of faithfulness, at all costs, to one’s self.

In such a climate, it is not likely that Christians will receive much encouragement from the broader culture to be faithful, in spite of hardship, to their commitment to the gospel. The notion that someone might become a “slave” in the service of anything or risk one’s health to fulfill a higher calling appears extraordinary, even abnormal. Yet it is precisely such people that Paul in this passage asks his Philippian readers, and us, to hold in high esteem (2:28). Indeed, the exemplary function of Timothy and Epaphroditus in this passage shows that Paul hopes that all of his readers will, because they are believers, view the commitment of Timothy and Epaphroditus as the norm and not follow the path of those who look out for their “own interests, not those of Jesus Christ” (2:21).

This level of integrated commitment and faithfulness to the gospel will mean that as with Paul, our plans need to be subject to the Lord’s sovereign control. Jesus submitted to death on the cross although he did not want to experience it (Matt. 26:39; Mark 14:36; Luke 22:42; Phil. 2:8). Paul wanted to preach in Bithynia (Acts 16:7) and to visit the Roman church (Rom. 1:13), but submitted to God’s call to go elsewhere (Acts 16:7–10; Rom. 15:23). Paul also hoped to visit the Philippians and was confident that he would be able to do so, but knew that his plans were subject to the Lord’s control (Phil. 2:24).

Christians throughout the ages have experienced similar divine interruptions of their plans. In June, 1939, Dietrich Bonhoeffer believed that he could help the cause of the struggling Confessing Church—the group of Christians in Germany who refused to compromise with Adolf Hitler—if he visited America. Such a visit, he reasoned, might provide a spiritual bond between the Confessing Church and Christians outside Germany and enable him to avoid his country’s inevitable call to military duty for a cause he considered evil.

Bonhoeffer had received several invitations to do various types of church work in America, one of which was to work with German refugees from Hitler’s Third Reich. Such an invitation, in order to pass through government censors, had to be worded in a veiled way, and Bonhoeffer misunderstood it. The telegram spoke of a combined task of giving theological lectures and working in college and university summer conferences, but the intention of those who sent it was that Bonhoeffer should work with German refugees for at least three years. When Bonhoeffer arrived in New York and understood the real nature of the invitation, he faced a crisis: Should he remain in America while the Confessing Church he had left behind in Germany struggled to resist the efforts of Hitler to conform the church to Nazi ideals, or should he return to face a bleak personal future? Many good reasons presented themselves for staying in America, but he chose to return. He explained in a letter to Reinhold Niebuhr that the Christian community in Germany would shortly face the terrible alternative of either willing the victory of their country and the destruction of civilization or the survival of civilization and the defeat of their country. He knew what he would choose, he explained, but he could not make that decision in the safe haven of another country.29

Bonhoeffer made the hard choice—a choice that left some of his friends in America surprised and disappointed—because he knew it was the choice that the advancement of the gospel demanded. He is perhaps the outstanding example from modern times of a theologian who lived his theology, who interrupted the sensible course that the world had mapped out for him in order to respond to God’s clear direction. In following Jesus he lost his life, but, in losing it, gained it again.30

Original Meaning

Why Epaphroditus? (2:25–30)

How surprised the Philippians must have been to see Epaphroditus again! They had sent him to Paul not only to deliver a monetary gift from the church (4:18) but also to stay with Paul and minister to his other needs (2:25), something they could not do themselves from such a distance (2:30). Why was he back so soon despite Paul’s continued imprisonment? Apparently in order to answer this question and to forestall any ill will toward Epaphroditus for not completing his assigned task, in this paragraph Paul both explains why Epaphroditus has returned and commends him to the Philippians for his diligence.

The basic reasons for Epaphroditus’ return are clear. He yearned to be reunited with his friends at Philippi, particularly because they had learned of an illness he had contracted since leaving them (v. 26). There is no need to make light of Epaphroditus’ longing as mere “homesickness.”6 Paul uses the same term to describe his own desire to see the Philippians in 1:8, and such expressions of longing for those at home are not unknown in other letters from the period.7 Epaphroditus had endured a life-threatening illness in order to complete his commission from the Philippian church (vv. 27, 30). Somehow the church had learned of this illness, and Epaphroditus was understandably distressed. Compassion dictated that he be released from his responsibility to care for Paul’s needs and be sent home with Paul’s blessing.

Compassion also mandated that Paul make clear to the Philippians that they should welcome Epaphroditus back. Paul tries to ensure a hearty welcome for him by the way in which he describes Epaphroditus and his service. He first shows how highly he regards Epaphroditus by describing him with two titles of honor, “messenger” and “minister”—titles that rightfully belonged to Paul himself. The term “messenger” (NIV) is more literally “apostle” (apostolos), a word Paul often uses in his letters to refer to witnesses of Jesus’ resurrection who also carry a special commission to preach the gospel (Rom. 1:1; 1 Cor. 15:7).8 Paul does not use the term here in this full-bodied sense (cf. 2 Cor. 8:23), but it retains honorable connotations, much in the way that our term “president” is dignified by its use to refer to the chief executive of many republics.

Paul also calls Epaphroditus the Philippians’ “minister” (leitourgos) to Paul’s needs, again a title of dignity. The New Testament uses this term to refer to government officials (Rom. 13:6), to the angels who serve God (Heb. 1:7), and to temple priests (Heb. 8:2). Paul uses it of himself in Romans 15:16 to describe his role as a “priest” of Christ Jesus to the Gentiles.9 As with the term “messenger,” Epaphroditus is not a “minister” in the same sense that Paul is, but Paul gladly lends him the title to demonstrate to the Philippians his esteem for Epaphroditus.

Three other important words are used to describe Epaphroditus: “brother,” “fellow worker,” and “fellow soldier.” Paul can use the term “brothers” in Philippians to refer to believers generally, even to those who oppose him (1:14–15), but most often he uses it with an affectionate nuance (1:12; 3:1, 13, 17; 4:1, 8), and its affectionate connotations resound here. The term “fellow worker” similarly refers to one who has labored beside Paul in the cause of the gospel (cf. 4:3; 2 Cor. 8:23; Col. 4:11; 1 Thess. 3:2; Philem. 1, 24). Although rare, “fellow soldier” also signifies one who has suffered the rigors of service to the gospel along with Paul (Philem. 2; cf. 2 Tim. 2:3).

In verse 25, then, Paul introduces Epaphroditus with a fanfare of complimentary language, leaving little doubt in the minds of the Philippians that their messenger is returning with the apostle’s blessing. As if this were not enough, Paul explains to his readers that the illness Epaphroditus suffered was neither minor nor incidental to the mission itself. It almost resulted in his death, an event that would have added to Paul’s suffering (cf. 1:17), and it happened because Epaphroditus was trying to carry out his commission faithfully (v. 30). Thus, Paul has not sent him back with reservations about his conduct, but eagerly. The Philippians will be relieved to know that he is safe, Epaphroditus will be relieved to be home, and Paul himself will be less anxious about Epaphroditus’ well-being (v. 28). For all these reasons, and in spite of their surprise at seeing Epaphroditus earlier than expected, the Philippians should “welcome him in the Lord with great joy” (v. 29).

Timothy and Epaphroditus as Examples. Paul’s other letters commonly (although not invariably) discuss travel plans near their conclusions. In Philippians, however, Paul has probably moved the discussion forward into the present context because Timothy and Epaphroditus serve as such good examples of the kind of conduct Paul has been urging on the Philippians explicitly since 1:27 and implicitly since the first lines of the letter. The Philippians have been complaining and arguing among themselves (2:14; 4:2). The remedy to this divisiveness, Paul says in the first half of chapter 2, is to squelch selfish ambition and vain conceit, to cultivate unity of spirit and humility, and to put the interests of others first—qualities that Christ himself exhibited.

Now, in 2:19–30, Paul discusses his travel plans to show how Timothy and Epaphroditus have successfully adopted these attitudes as well. Timothy understands the practical meaning of the unity of spirit and purpose that Paul urged on the Philippians in 2:2. He is one with Paul in his concern for the Philippians, a unity that also puts him in unity with the Philippians themselves (2:20). In 2:4 Paul had encouraged the Philippians not to seek their own interests but the interests of others. Timothy seeks the interests of Jesus Christ (2:21), and this goal leads him to seek the best interests of others (2:20). Like Christ Jesus (2:7), he has become a slave to the gospel (2:22).

Similarly, Epaphroditus became a servant to Paul in his need (2:25), and just as Christ Jesus “became obedient to death—even death on a cross” (2:8), so Epaphroditus came near death in faithful service to his commission (2:27, 30). Just as God, in response to Christ’s obedience, exalted Christ to the highest place, so Epaphroditus should be welcomed back to Philippi with joy and honor (2:29).

So Paul’s discussion of Timothy and Epaphroditus is far more than a mere “travelogue.” It is an illustration of how two fellow believers, both well known to the Philippians, can put into practice the principles of conduct that Paul has suggested the Philippians follow. These two coworkers provide tangible evidence that the ethical principles implied in the gospel do not ask more than God gives the power to obey.

Bridging Contexts

Second, the way in which Paul speaks of his plans to send Timothy and to visit Philippi himself is theologically significant. In both verses 19 and 24

Contemporary Significance