Dan Olinger

"If the Bible is true, then none of our fears are legitimate, none of our frustrations are permanent, and none of our opposition is significant."

Dan Olinger

 

Retired Bible Professor,

Bob Jones University

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On the Fruit of the Spirit, Part 3: Joy

May 3, 2021 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: Love

As the Spirit of God works on the character of his people, it should come as no surprise that right on the heels of love comes joy. Or maybe it might be surprising after all, if you consider the biblical definition of love rather than the common cultural one.

We all know that when people “fall in love,” there’s a lot of joy involved. But as we noted last time, love isn’t really about serendipity; it’s about a focus away from oneself and on others. And these days our culture takes it as axiomatic that you can’t love others until you first love yourself; that there’s nothing more joyous than “being true to yourself.”

Au contraire.

I’m not suggesting that we should be doormats or hypocrites, or that we should be obsessed with self-loathing. But I am confident that making yourself the center of the universe is no path to joy.

If we devote ourselves to acting in the best interests of those around us, though, the roadway is blossoming with joy.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. We should start with definitions.

The word translated “joy” here occurs 60 times in the New Testament. It’s used to describe

  • How a man feels when he learns that he’s finally, after decades of trying, going to be a father (Lk 1.14)
  • How the wise men felt when the star they had seen back home reappeared just as they needed help finding the newborn king (Mt 2.10)
  • How a man feels when he finds a hidden treasure (Mt 13.44)
  • How a woman feels after she gives birth (Jn 16.21)
  • How Jesus’ disciples felt when they found that they could cast out demons (Lk 10.17)
  • How the women at the tomb felt when the angel told them that Jesus was risen (Mt 28.8)
  • How the disciples felt when the risen Jesus appeared in the room with them (Lk 24.41)
  • How Rhoda felt when she realized that the imprisoned Peter, for whom the church was praying, was free and standing at the gate (Ac 12.14)
  • How a teacher feels when his students excel (Php 2.2; 4.1; 1Th 2.19-20; Heb 13.17; 1J 1.4; 3J 4)

I really get that last one.

If you scan through the uses of this word in the NT, you can’t help noticing something that you may find surprising—the frequent connection of joy with trials.

  • When Paul and Barnabas were opposed and then thrown out of the first major city they visited in Asia Minor on their first missionary journey, “the disciples were continually filled with joy and with the Holy Spirit” (Ac 13.52).
  • To the church in Corinth Paul writes, “I am overflowing with joy in all our affliction” (2Co 7.4).
  • To the same church he writes that for the churches of northern Greece, “in a great trial of affliction the abundance of their joy and their deep poverty abounded unto the riches of their liberality” (2Co 8.2).
  • He tells the Thessalonians that they had “received the word in much affliction, with joy of the Holy Spirit” (1Th 1.6).
  • The author of Hebrews writes that his audience “accepted joyfully the seizure of your property” (Heb 10.34).
  • James writes, “Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials” (Jam 1.2).

So joy is how we feel when we get really good news—but it’s possible to feel the same way when the news is not at all good. It’s delight that isn’t based on our circumstances.

How does the Spirit work this in us? The “trials” passages give us a clue.

  • God “comforts the depressed” (2Co 7.6). And, as Paul makes clear in this instance, the causes of sorrow are not permanent, and God brings good things out of hard times.
  • In the case of the Hebrews, they accepted persecution “knowing that you have for yourselves a better possession and a lasting one” (Heb 10.34).
  • And James, writing earlier than all the others—and before his execution by being thrown off “the pinnacle of the Temple” in Jerusalem, where his half-brother had refused Satan’s invitation to jump—notes that “the testing of your faith produces endurance” (Jam 1.3).

What’s the takeaway here?

When your perspective changes from the mud in the road to the eternal outcome of the beneficent divine plan—when we live “with eternity’s values in view,” as the gospel chorus says—we deal more joyously—more realistically!—with the instabilities of life. Like an experienced driver, who takes in the whole road and not just what’s happening right in front of his bumper, we’re much less likely to crash.

Joy.

It’s how we live.

Part 4: Peace | Part 5: Patience | Part 6: Kindness | Part 7: Goodness | Part 8: Faithfulness | Part 9: Gentleness | Part 10: Self-Control

Photo by Gabriele Lässer on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Ethics, Theology Tagged With: Galatians, New Testament, sanctification, soteriology

On the Fruit of the Spirit, Part 2: Love

April 29, 2021 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Introduction

Paul begins his list of Christ’s character qualities with love.

We all think we know what love is—it’s that tingling sensation we get when we “fall” for someone.

One of my seminary roommates used to call that “zing.”

Let me state for the record that zing is good. May we all experience zing, and may we rejoice in it.

But zing is not all there is to love.

If we study the word as it’s used in the New Testament, we find that while it certainly includes an emotional component, it’s much bigger than that. I think the best definition I’ve come across is from my friend and colleague Randy Leedy: “a disposition to sacrifice oneself in order to secure the benefit of the loved one.” (For a considerably deeper discussion of the complexities of the term, try this dissertation by a former student of mine, the kind webmaster of this blog.)

Love is more than just an emotion, or a choice, or an understanding. Love is a perspective and its consequences; love is the way you look at something or someone, and the decision to elevate the worth of that object above your own interests.

Once you realize this, you realize how toxic much of our culture’s view of love is. Many people, informed by the artistic expressions of the age, love people for what they can do for them—you make me feel good, you “complete” me, you make my life worth living. “I can’t live without you,” after all.

But that’s upside down and backwards. Love, genuine love, impels me to give, not to take. It impels me to think of someone else, not my own joy or pleasure or desire.

Sure, it’s complicated; there are lots of facets to genuine love. But if there’s not at its core a greater valuation of the object than of the self, then it’s not love.

What can we learn about love from the Bible? Perhaps it was J.R. Fausset who first observed that Paul is the apostle of faith; Peter is the apostle of hope; and John is the apostle of love.

In that case, let’s see what John says.

In his brief first epistle, he talks a lot about love—

  • God is love (1J 4.8, 16).
  • He expresses that love toward us (1J 3.1) by sending his Son (1J 4.9-10) to lay down his life for us (1J 3.16) even before we loved him (1J 4.9-10).
  • We should love God in return (1J 4.19) and show that love by obeying him (1J 2.5; 5.2-3).
  • We should love our brothers, because that’s one way we obey him (1J 3.23; 4.21). And we should love them genuinely, in action, not merely in words (1J 3.18).
  • When we love our brothers, we demonstrate that we have passed from death to life (1J 3.14); that we know God (1J 4.7-8); that God is in us (1J 4.16-17); that we’re growing in our understanding of his love (1J 4.12); and that we’re walking in his light (1J 2.10).
  • We should not love “the world” (1J 2.15), defined as desires that are fundamentally self-focused (“the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life,” 1J 2.16).
  • And we learn that mature love “casts out fear” (1J 4.18).

There’s a lot of fear these days. And a lot of that fear is being expressed by Christians.

That doesn’t make any sense. If we’re in God, we exist—“abide in”—a state of love. And if we’re living with an external, loving focus, we have no business being afraid.

Perhaps you’ve seen the meme that says, “No one, in the history of ever, has ever calmed down after being told to calm down.”

Granted.

But calm down.

In this case, there’s supernatural power involved, which ought to make the impossible possible.

How do we walk in love?

  • We think about others. First.
    • How will what I’m about to say affect this person? Will it build him up or tear him down? Will it draw him to Christ or push him away?
  • We devalue our own rights and needs and wants.
    • Does the fact that I have a right to free speech mean that I have to exercise it at this moment? Is my winning this argument—or even just getting in a zinger as I walk away—more important to me than the value of my opponent—who is, by the way, in the image of God (Ge 1.27), and deeply loved by him (Jn 3.16)?

Jesus observed that in nature, you identify a tree by its fruit (Mt 7.16).

Who are you?

Part 3: Joy | Part 4: Peace | Part 5: Patience | Part 6: Kindness | Part 7: Goodness | Part 8: Faithfulness | Part 9: Gentleness | Part 10: Self-Control

Photo by Gabriele Lässer on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Ethics, Theology Tagged With: Galatians, New Testament, sanctification, soteriology

On the Fruit of the Spirit, Part 1: Introduction

April 26, 2021 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

In the current societal turmoil, there’s a lot of suspicion toward people we disagree with, and consequently there are a lot of charges being lobbed casually back and forth between opposing camps. Any historian will tell you that you should be suspicious of one group’s descriptions of a group they oppose—that principle has come into play notably in current skepticism about descriptions of historical people groups as cannibalistic, and it even played a role in our understanding of the Ecuadorian Huaorani (not “Auca”) who killed the 5 missionaries back in 1956.

So it shouldn’t surprise us when people on the other side of an issue from us describe us inaccurately. I see broad characterizations of Christians, for example, that are demonstrably, objectively inaccurate. No, Christians are not characterized by “hate”—an all too facile accusation these days—simply because they disagree with a policy decision or a view of morality. No, they’re not “phobic”—irrationally motivated by fear, another all too facile accusation that conveniently liberates the accuser from having to answer their rational statements rationally—when they allege that a given lifestyle will carry significant negative consequences, both culturally and individually. And no, they don’t believe—and this is my favorite—that they should read the Bible “literally”—they’re not knuckle-dragging troglodytes who wouldn’t recognize a metaphor or a synecdoche if it bit ‘em on the, um, kiester.

But.

On the other hand, I see many of my Christian fellow-travelers saying and doing things that make these accusations, well, credible.

My brethren, these things ought not so to be.

Christianity is not at root a cultural position (“this is just the way I was brought up!”), a pragmatic political position (“they’re destroying our country!”), or even a change of worldview (“I see it all so clearly now!”), whether due to significant rational, emotional, or circumstantial experiences.

Christianity—personal salvation—is a work of God in the heart of a human that spiritually resurrects him from the dead and sets him on a radically different course of life, empowering him to instantiate that lifestyle consistently and progressively. A Christian—a real one—should be significantly different from the kind of person he was before, and he should get progressively better over time at resembling the character qualities of Christ.

Now, we all start out life broken morally and in many other ways, and that brokenness is never perfectly mended in this life. But we ought to have something in the way of character improvement as an unavoidable consequence of our new birth, and we ought to be making progress.

Paul speaks of this contrast in Ephesians 4, where he exhorts believers to “walk worthy of the calling with which you have been called” (Ep 4.1). Earlier in the epistle he has spoken of having been “dead in trespasses and sins” (Ep 2.1) but then “resurrected together with Christ” (Ep 2.5) and “created in Christ Jesus unto good works” (Ep 2.10).

Radical change.

For much of chapter 4, Paul contrasts the old way of life (“being alienated from the life of God,” Ep 4.18), characterized by “all uncleanness” (Ep 4.19), with the new way, “which after God is created in righteousness and true holiness” (Ep 4.24). He lists several specific examples of this new way:

  • We quit lying and tell the truth (Ep 4.25).
  • We control our anger (Ep 4.26).
  • We fight temptation (Ep 4.27).
  • We give instead of taking (Ep 4.28).
  • We use our words to build up rather than tear down (Ep 4.29).

And the list goes on (Ep 4.30-32), ending with kindness, tenderness, and forgiveness (Ep 4.32).

That last verse is the first one I ever memorized, in Sunday school back in 1960. After 6 decades, I’ve still got work to do, and I suspect you do too.

Paul makes the same point in an earlier epistle, contrasting the “works of the flesh” (Ga 5.19-21) with the “fruit of the Spirit” (Ga 5.22-23). The latter list amounts to a description of the character of Jesus, to whom God is conforming our character over time (Ro 8.29).

Christians are different from their fellow citizens. We’re always going to be seen as different, strange (1P 4.4), odd, even contemptible, even dangerous. It’s happened before, and it will happen again.

But as Paul’s apostolic predecessor and colleague Peter reminds us, we shouldn’t be giving them legitimate reasons to think that way about us (1P 3.14-17; 4.14-16). Suffering for Jesus is one thing; suffering because you’re not like Jesus is another thing entirely.

So it will be helpful to spend some time thinking about the fruit of the Spirit and assessing our own needs in these areas.

Next time.

 Part 2: Love | Part 3: Joy | Part 4: Peace | Part 5: Patience | Part 6: Kindness | Part 7: Goodness | Part 8: Faithfulness | Part 9: Gentleness | Part 10: Self-Control

Photo by Gabriele Lässer on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Ethics, Theology Tagged With: Galatians, New Testament, sanctification, soteriology

Just One Thing …, Part 2

April 1, 2021 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1

[Sidebar: Yes, I know it’s April Fool’s Day. No, I’m not participating. I don’t think it’s funny to lie to my friends. Seriously.]

In the previous post we noted Paul’s terse description of his mental state throughout a distraction-laden life: “one thing!” (Php 3.13).

We ended that post with a simple question: “How does he do it?”

He tells us in the passage—

[On the one hand] forgetting what lies behind and [on the other hand] reaching forward to what lies ahead, 14 I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus (Php 3.13-14).

I’ve cited the NASB 95 here and added the bracketed material to emphasize the polarity in Paul’s mind; he is completely abandoning one approach and completely committing himself to a different one. (Yep, that’s in the Greek.)

Forgetting the Past

Paul puts out of his mind what lies behind.

We need to note something key here: he’s in charge of his thinking; his mind is his servant, not his master.

You know, you can decide what and how you think. You can choose, by God’s grace, to think differently (Ro 12.2). It’s been suggested that what you think about when you’re not busy tells you what you care most about. Do you like what that says about you? If not, why not direct your mind elsewhere?

What he puts out of his mind is what lies behind.

What’s that?

  • It could be his previous success among his peers, his earthly accomplishments, as listed in Php 3.4-6. “Forgetting” those things might mean simply that he doesn’t value them anymore (Php 3.7-8). His priorities and values have shifted.
  • It could be the ministry difficulties and distractions that he’s talked about elsewhere (2Co 11). “Whatever comes my way in this walk toward Christlikeness, I’m going to work through it.”
  • It could be his own godly efforts, which so far haven’t brought him to final success (Php 3.12-13).

We all can waste a lot of time and effort focusing

  • on past failures—which, for the regenerate, are forgiven and forgotten by God
  • or on past successes—which smacks of pride and works-based approval
  • or on the pain of the struggle—which implies that the goal is not worth the pain

But those things are indeed insignificant, comparatively speaking.

Eyes on the Prize

By contrast—“on the other hand”—Paul throws himself completely forward, into the harness, straining every muscle, focusing every thought on reaching the goal.

I press toward the mark.

His word press is the same word he used back in verse 6 of his zeal for persecuting the church. Luke says of those days that Paul (then called Saul),

breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord, went to the high priest, 2 and asked for letters from him to the synagogues at Damascus, so that if he found any belonging to the Way, both men and women, he might bring them bound to Jerusalem (Ac 9.1-2).

Yikes.

With that kind of total commitment, he presses now toward the goal of knowing and obeying the one who set his face like flint (Is 50.7) to accomplish his own mission.

15 All of us, then, who are mature should take such a view of things (Php 3.15 NIV).

Turns out this isn’t just for Paul, the super-saint. This is how all of us should think, how we all should live.

Do I?

How many hours a day do I spend on the distractions? even on the trivial?

Oh, I’m not discounting the need to take care of earthly business, or even the need for rest and recreation—that’s good stewardship. I’m not painting with a broad brush all our time on TV or social media—I use the latter to stay in touch with quite a few people.

But what have I done today to reach the existential goal—the one that is supposed to define my life and be the purpose of my existence?

But one. One thing.

Press forward.

Photo by Nicolas Hoizey on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible Tagged With: focus, New Testament, Philippians

Just One Thing …, Part 1

March 29, 2021 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Since the New Year I’ve been engaged in a personal study of Paul’s Epistle to the Philippians. Back in January I posted a brief series about the theme of “thinking” in the epistle, and since then I’ve been noticing a lot of other things as well. My attention was captured a while back by Paul’s words in chapter 3—

12 Not that I have already obtained it or have already become perfect, but I press on so that I may lay hold of that for which also I was laid hold of by Christ Jesus. 13 Brethren, I do not regard myself as having laid hold of it yet; but one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead, 14 I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. 15 Let us therefore, as many as are perfect, have this attitude; and if in anything you have a different attitude, God will reveal that also to you; 16 however, let us keep living by that same standard to which we have attained.

There’s a lot to think about here, something I think is worth spending a post or two on.

Our culture is psychically frazzled. Our thoughts are every which way, now here, now there. There’s The Outrage of the Day, which I’ve noted before. There’s the eager reporting of Bad News, likely driven more by the desire for clicks than the public’s right to know. There’s our own personal schedule pressure, which even during the lockdown phase of a pandemic is surprisingly demanding—not everybody has spent the last months bingeing on Netflix, and a great many people are hanging on by a thread. There’s worry about people who are sick, and about the loved ones of those who have died.

So many pressures—some legitimate distractions, of course, and others not so much.

Paul lived similarly. There were certainly distractions. His theological opponents were following him around the Empire, countermanding his teaching and trying to steal his sheep. His churches had problems—some, like Corinth, more than others, but even Philippi, home of his biggest fans (Php 4.14-16), had its squabbles that were apparently sufficiently significant to require apostolic intervention (Php 4.2). The demands of those churches required Paul’s daily care (2Co 11.28). And of course there are the minor issues of robbers, beatings, imprisonments, hunger, cold, and oh, the occasional shipwreck (2Co 11.23ff).

Distractions, indeed.

But in the midst of all that, Paul had a character quality that propelled his effectiveness.

He was single-minded.

He was like the police dog who, in the chaos of sirens, gunfire, and shouted commands, goes after the target with single focus, intent on the mission to the successful end.

One thing I do.

Most of the English translations supply the clause “I do” in an attempt to clarify the meaning—and there’s nothing wrong with that. But Paul doesn’t write those words; he’s writing a short, clipped sentence fragment, more of a grunt than a statement—

But one.

The word “thing” is strongly implied by the neuter gender of “one,” but even that word isn’t technically there. The KJV adds the demonstrative “this,” but that’s not there either.

But one.

Grunt. Squint. Focus. Bow. Strain. Pull.

One thing.

How do you suppose he can maintain that focus in the midst of all the interruptions, the violence, the threats, the crises?

I suppose it’s because the mission, and the goal to which it points, is infinitely more important to him than anything else in the picture.

What’s the goal? He expresses it several ways in this passage—

  • “knowing Christ Jesus my Lord” (Php 3.8; cf Php 3.10)
  • “be[ing] found in Him” (Php 3.9)
  • “attain[ing] to the resurrection from the dead” (Php 3.11)
  • “the upward call of God in Christ Jesus” (Php 3.14)

How good am I at keeping my eyes on the prize? How likely am I not to be distracted by dangerous things—or even trivial ones?

In verse 13 Paul tells us how he does that. We’ll take a look there next time.

Part 2

Photo by Nicolas Hoizey on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible Tagged With: focus, New Testament, Philippians

On Healthy Minds in Troubled Times, Part 5: Focus

February 4, 2021 by Dan Olinger 1 Comment

Part 1: This Has Happened Before | Part 2: Confidence | Part 3: Selflessness | Part 4: Perspective

As Paul nears the end of his epistle to the Philippian church, what we might call a meditation on the habits of a healthy mind in troubled times, he turns from character qualities to the content of thought.  We might say that he pivots from how to think to what to think.

He starts by telling a couple of church members to stop quarreling (Php 4.2). That sounds fairly mundane, but I think it’s something of a key to the rest of the chapter. These are people who have served God in the past, and apparently together. Now they have a disagreement about something. He tells them to cut it out.

And that means that they don’t have to be fighting; they are not driven to their stances by circumstances. They can decide what to think, and they can decide to get along.

You see, we’re not obligated to think about, let alone agree with, any old thought that pops into our heads. We can direct our minds. We can take charge of our thoughts.

These days we’ve had several decades of passivity, watching a screen and letting our minds be pulled here and there as the content creator wished. (Marshall McLuhan warned us about that way back in 1964—when this now-old guy was much too young to understand what he was talking about.) Mental passivity is an unbiblical way of living; as viceregents and stewards of this planet, we ought to be directing our thoughts, choosing how we think, not just reacting—usually merely emotionally—to our circumstances.

Paul spends the rest of the epistle specifying what we should be thinking about.

We ought to rejoice (Php 4.4)

That means that we ought to be focusing, in the midst of troubled times, on what is worth rejoicing over. We ought to be prioritizing our circumstances so that those that bring joy—legitimately—are valued more than those that frustrate us, cause us fear, or drive us to despair.

I have a lot to be thankful for. So do you. Dwell on those things, and revel in the joy they bring.

We ought to be at peace (Php 4.6-7)

… rather than full of anxiety, that is, about the challenges that face us. Why? Because there is a God in heaven, who hears our prayers and is moved to respond to them in ways that are unfailingly for our long-term benefit. Commit the darkness around you to your powerful and loving heavenly Father, and walk confidently through the darkness with your hand in his.

I’ll confess to being more than a little perplexed—and irritated, frankly—at the number of my spiritual brethren whose public words predominantly communicate fear and frustration and rage against the machine. Is there no God in heaven? Does he not skillfully and certainly direct in the affairs of people and nations? Are we not his people? Why, then, the rage? Why the frustration? Why the fear?

We ought to be mentally focused (Php 4.8)

… on the good, the true, the edifying. That means not filling our heads with the words of angry people, people who are constantly muckraking, spouting theories with no basis in fact, grasping daily for ratings, another listener or another click. We can and should direct our thoughts elsewhere.

We ought to be satisfied (Php 4.10ff)

… with what God has given us—our possessions, our relationships, our station in life, our circumstances. Satisfied knowing that whether we live in relative poverty or relative wealth, our Father supplies all our needs, wisely, benevolently, lovingly, perfectly. Children of the heavenly Father, after all, do indeed safely in his bosom gather.

Mine are days here as a stranger,
Pilgrim on a narrow way;
One with Christ I will encounter
Harm and hatred for His name.
But mine is armour for this battle
Strong enough to last the war;
And He has said He will deliver
Safely to the golden shore.

Come rejoice now, O my soul,
For His love is my reward—
Fear is gone and hope is sure;
Christ is mine forevermore!

Jonny Robinson and Rich Thompson

Photo by André Ventura on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Culture, Theology Tagged With: New Testament, Philippians

On Healthy Minds in Troubled Times, Part 4: Perspective

February 1, 2021 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: This Has Happened Before | Part 2: Confidence | Part 3: Selflessness

As Paul navigated the troubled times in which God called him to minister, he paused in Philippians 3 to reflect on where he was aiming—and to contrast that with the direction his life had been aimed before. He marveled at the way God had changed his perspective.

The NRSV suggests two sections to this chapter: “Breaking with the Past” (Php 3.1-11) and “Pressing toward the Goal” (Php 3.12-4.1). Paul begins by looking back at what he valued Before Christ—complete devotion to the Law, climbing the ranks of those who held themselves up as examples of committed and devout followers of Moses:

  • He was circumcised 8 days after birth, as the Law required—in other words, he was born into Judaism, not a later convert. He had devoted his entire life to keeping the Law.
  • He’s of the stock of Israel—both his parents are Jewish.
  • He’s of the tribe of Benjamin—one of only two tribes descended from Israel’s favorite wife, the tribe of Israel’s first king (for whom Paul is named), the tribe where the capital and Temple were, the only tribe that remained with Judah during the rebellion of the northern tribes under Jeroboam, the tribe of whom Moses said in his final blessing, “May the beloved of the Lord dwell in security by him, who shields him all the day, and he dwells between his shoulders” (Dt 33.12).
  • He’s a “Hebrew”—he speaks the mother tongue as his heart language.
  • He’s a Pharisee, the sect devoted to the strictest obedience to the Law, tithing even his herbs and spices (Mt 23.23). Josephus, a Jewish contemporary of Paul, described the Pharisees as men “who valued themselves highly upon the exact skill they had in the law of their fathers, and made men believe they were highly favored by God” (Antiquities 17.2.4) and “who are esteemed most skillful in the exact explication of their laws” (War 2.8.14), and he notes that “the cities gave great attestations to them on account of their entire virtuous conduct, both in the actions of their lives and their discourses also” (Antiquities 18.1.3).
  • He persecuted the Christian “heretics” with incomparable zeal.
  • He stood “blameless” before the Law—an impressive claim, considering the breadth of the Law’s demands.

But now, having met the very Jesus whom he was persecuting, he views all of that former obsession, all of that former glory, as just trash (Php 3.8); the word can refer to garbage or even to excrement, as the KJV renders it. What he had held so close he now finds not merely worthless, but repugnant, malodorous, reprehensible.

Get it out of here; it’s stinking up the place.

Talk about a change of perspective.

So what does he value now? Where is his focus? To what goal are his energy and effort directed?

Christ.

  • Knowing him (Php 3.8).
  • Being united with him (Php 3.9).
  • Replacing his own righteousness with Christ’s (Php 3.9).
  • Suffering with him (Php 3.10).
  • Dying with him (Php 3.10).
  • Rising with him (Php 3.11).
  • Winning with him (Php 3.14).

Paul closes the chapter by contrasting this new perspective with that of the world.

  • They prioritize their appetites (Php 3.19).
  • They “set their minds on earthly things” (Php 3.19).

Paul, in stark contrast, understands that his “citizenship is in heaven” (Php 3.20).

His Philippian readers knew precisely what he was talking about. Nearly a century before, in 31 BC, Octavian had defeated Antony and Cleopatra at Actium. He had rewarded his soldiers by giving them land near Rome. He then rewarded the owners of that land, who were now displaced, by moving them to Philippi and designating that city a Roman “colony” (Ac 16.12) with extensive privileges, including exemption from some taxation and the full benefits of Roman law as if they were still in Italy.

The Philippians knew what a privilege citizenship was. And they knew what it was to be a citizen of a faraway place that was truly home.

And so are we.

We are God’s servants here, stewards of what he has entrusted us with, but this world is not our home, and our eyes are elsewhere. Anything we can achieve here is essentially worthless unless it affects what is waiting us at home.

And anything that draws our hearts away from home, or interferes with our commission to take others home with us, has to go.

We don’t live for Philippi, even though we live there for now.

Part 5: Focus

Photo by André Ventura on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Culture, Theology Tagged With: New Testament, Philippians

On Healthy Minds in Troubled Times, Part 3: Selflessness

January 28, 2021 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: This Has Happened Before | Part 2: Confidence

In troubled times, “looking out for Number One” is absolutely the wrong thing to do. Just as a threefold cord is not easily broken, so we as believers benefit by facing the certain troubles as a unified body, looking out for and supporting one another. Troubled times are the worst times to be fragmented or to go it alone.

Paul pleads with the Philippian believers to be

of the same mind, maintaining the same love, united in spirit, intent on one purpose. Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves; do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others (Php 2.2-4 NASB).

This verb “to be of [a] mind” occurs 10 times in this brief letter (Php 1.7; 2.2 [2x], 5; 3.15 [2x], 19; 4.2, 10 [2x]); it’s a major theme. How we think, how we set our attitude, has everything to do with how we fare in this world.

The kind of mind Paul describes here goes against our instincts. When we have problems, we’re inclined to give attention to them, not to the needs of others. But that’s illogical, even if natural. If we concentrate on our own problems, there’s just one person trying to take care of them—and that one person is limited in his creativity and strength. But if he takes that limited strength and creativity and applies it to the problems of others—many others—they will all benefit. And as they reciprocate and turn their attention to helping him with his troubles, he gets the input of exponentially more creativity and strength than he could ever have applied to his concerns by himself.

Paul spends the rest of this chapter giving examples—and he begins with the greatest of all. Christ himself provides the supreme example of selflessness by not clinging to his divine privileges, but adding to his person a genuinely human nature, living among us, and even dying in our place—and dying the most cruel and ignominious death ever conceived.

Because I’ve written elsewhere on this passage, I won’t develop it at length here. But Christ is certainly the ultimate example of selfless service in troubled times. And as we are “in him” (Php 3.9), we are certain to be empowered by him to live as he did (Php 2.13).

There are three more examples that fill out the chapter.

Paul encourages the Philippians to imitate him (Php 2.17-18). This is not an apostle holding himself up as some great one—that would make nonsense of the entire chapter—but a man who has learned to serve, and who counts all his earlier achievements, which are considerable (Php 3.4-6), as rubbish, in order to win Christ and be found in him (Php 3.7-8), inviting his friends to join him in this delightful and joyous exercise. “Come on in!” he shouts, “The water’s fine!”

Another example is Timothy. Amidst a school of fish “looking out for Number One” (Php 2.21), Timothy swims upstream; he “will genuinely be concerned with your welfare” (Php 2.20). When Timothy arrives, the church will do well to follow his example.

But in the meantime, Paul is sending Epaphroditus (Php 2.25). Everything we know about this man is in this verse and one more later in the epistle (Php 4.18). It’s intriguing that he’s named for the Greek goddess of love, Aphrodite; his name literally means “On Aphrodite,” a term that gamblers would use as a wish for luck. From that pagan background he came to Christ and is probably a leader in the church at Philippi, who has come to Rome to serve Paul for an extended time and is now returning, carrying this letter.

Selfless service. Rapt attention to what others need, at the expense of your own assets.

This is how you deal with troubled times.

Part 4: Perspective | Part 5: Focus

Photo by André Ventura on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Culture, Theology Tagged With: New Testament, Philippians

On Healthy Minds in Troubled Times, Part 2: Confidence

January 25, 2021 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: This Has Happened Before

As we noted in the previous post, Paul writes his letter to the Philippian church from house arrest in Rome, probably toward the end of the two years he was confined there. And that two-year period follows another two-year stint in confinement in Caesarea, all on the same false charge.

Four years. Four years of sitting and waiting for justice—punctuated by a shipwreck in the middle.

How’s your day going?

We would expect Paul to do some complaining in this letter—life’s not fair; what’s going to happen to me now; nobody loves me; so this is the thanks I get. “Scary!”

Nope.

Right out of the gate Paul exudes confidence.

  • He offers “grace” (the Greek greeting) and “peace” (the Jewish greeting) to this little church, followed immediately by a word of thanksgiving (Php 1.2-3).
  • He tells them he prays for them with “joy” (Php 1.4) because they are sharing in his experiences—as will become clear later, with financial as well as other support (Php 4.18). Turns out it’s simply not true that “nobody loves me.”
  • He’s confident that God will finish the work he has started (Php 1.6).

Ah. There, my friend, is the basis of his confidence in troubled and trying times.

There is a God in heaven, and he is sovereignly and certainly working his plan.

  • Paul’s “trouble with the law” has advanced his calling, the spread of the gospel (Php 1.12). You see, he hasn’t just been sitting around for four years wishing he could be on the road founding churches. At least for the two years of Roman house arrest, he’s been tended by Roman guards, probably in 6-hour shifts, perhaps even chained to them. Four soldiers a day, a captive audience. Chained or not, they can’t leave; Paul is their military post. And apparently, some of them have listened to what their prisoner said; the “whole imperial guard” (Php 1.13) knows that he’s a prisoner for the cause of Christ. And they’re not just gossiping about the interesting prisoner; later in the same letter Paul sends greetings from “saints … of Caesar’s household” (Php 4.22). Caesar’s staff, his guard, maybe even his family include believers. It’s not likely Paul could have accomplished that by traipsing around the empire planting churches.
  • Fellow believers, Paul says, are emboldened by his example and are speaking the word without fear (Php 1.14). Scores, perhaps hundreds, of believers are more than making up for the loss of Paul’s public voice. Where there was one voice, there is now a throng. The word goes forth with more volume, more power, than it had while Paul was free.
  • Some people are even spreading the word in an attempt to supplant the now absent authority of the apostle (Php 1.15-17). Paul, not jealous for his personal position, simply rejoices that the word is going forth (Php 1.18).
  • Paul thinks it’s likely that he’s going to win his appeal and gain release to preach again (Php 1.19). (I’m pretty sure he’s right—there’s good indication in the Pastoral Epistles that Paul engaged in travels not recorded in Acts, and there’s a very strong early-church tradition that he went to Spain.)
  • But whether he wins or loses his case, Christ is exalted, and that’s been the real goal all along (Php 1.20).

Since God’s plan will be accomplished, and since the “worst” that can happen—death—is actually victory, what’s the reason for things to be “Scary!”?

But things look so … dark. We might face opposition, or deprivation, or suffering, or persecution.

Indeed. On the day Christ commissioned Saul as apostle to the Gentiles, he told him he would suffer. He told Ananias, the believer who healed Saul of his heaven-sent blindness,

“Go, for he is a chosen instrument of Mine, to bear My name before the Gentiles and kings and the sons of Israel; for I will show him how much he must suffer for My name’s sake” (Ac 9.15-16).

And Saul, now Paul the apostle, tells the believers in the little church at Philippi that this is the common fate—no, the “privilege”—of all believers (Php 1.29). Persecution means you’re confronting successfully the lostness of the world and contrasting it with the grace and hope that is in Christ. It means you’re doing it right.

Confidence. Not fear.

Go, in this thy might.

Part 3: Selflessness | Part 4: Perspective | Part 5: Focus

Photo by André Ventura on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Culture, Theology Tagged With: New Testament, Philippians

On Healthy Minds in Troubled Times, Part 1: This Has Happened Before

January 21, 2021 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

One common human characteristic is to think that whatever you’re facing is new. One benefit of being an old codger like me is that 66 years is long enough to realize that that just ain’t so. Even within a single lifetime, history tends to run in cycles—I’ve written about that before—and Solomon has famously told us that there’s nothing new under the sun (Ec 1.9).

What the church is facing these days is not new or even unusual; in fact, it’s pretty tame by historical standards. The American church in particular has had an extraordinary run of good times, of perhaps unprecedented opportunity to “lead a quiet and peaceable life” (1Ti 2.2) for literally centuries. While anything could happen, even the most pessimistic and nightmarish predictions that I hear from the prophets of doom don’t come close to what the church experienced in its first two centuries, or during the Inquisition, or even under Communist rule in the last century.

In the first century, even before Emperor Nero went cuckoo for cocoa puffs and blamed the fire in Rome on the Christians, there was violent opposition to the practitioners of The Way. Preaching the resurrection of Messiah—or anything else about him—was ruled illegal within a few days of its occurrence (Ac 4.18). Within a year or so the first preacher was violently killed by a mob (Ac 7.54-60), with the approval of the local government (Ac 8.1; 26.10). A decade later the first apostle was executed by Judea’s puppet “king,” Herod Agrippa I (Ac 12.1-2). And a little more than a decade after that, Paul returns to Jerusalem only to be attacked by a mob—in the very Temple precincts!—under the demonstrably false charge that he had brought a Gentile into the Court of the Women (Ac 21.27ff). He is jailed for more than two years, even though the Roman arresting officer believes him innocent (Ac 23.29), just on the off chance that the governor can squeeze a bribe out of him (Ac 24.26). To thwart an assassination conspiracy, Paul appeals to Caesar, gaining safe passage to Rome, where he waits under house arrest for another two years (Ac 28.30).

Keep in mind that Paul has been commissioned by the risen and ascended Christ himself as the apostle (“sent one”) to the Gentiles, a task that requires a lot of traveling around and talking to people, as Acts 13-21 make abundantly clear. Spending four years in jail for something you didn’t do—indeed, for a charge that every official along the way has pronounced unfounded (e.g. Ac 25.13-20)—puts a pretty significant crimp in your life’s calling.

Toward the end of those two years renting a house in Rome, waiting for his appeal to be heard, Paul writes a letter to the first church he founded in Europe, the one at Philippi, over in Macedonia (northern Greece). He wants to thank them for a generous gift they’d sent him (Php 4.15ff) and explain what’s been happening with one of their members, Epaphroditus, who’s been with him in Rome for some time (Php 2.25).

In the letter he takes the opportunity to catch them up on events in Rome, and to encourage them to stay faithful to Christ even though times are tough.

As I’ve been studying this epistle lately, it has occurred to me that its major points form a pretty good list of how we should react to troubled times—how we should think, how we should respond, how we should proceed.

It’s also occurred to me that hardly any Christians I know—at least, the ones I know who are making the most noise—are putting the list to work. Maybe it would do us all good to run the list through our heads and do a little introspection and self-evaluation.

Can’t hurt, right?

We’ll get started in the next post.

Part 2: Confidence | Part 3: Selflessness | Part 4: Perspective | Part 5: Focus

Photo by André Ventura on Unsplash

Filed Under: Bible, Culture, Theology Tagged With: New Testament, Philippians

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