PHILIPPIANS 2:17-18

17 But even if I am being poured out like a drink offering on the sacrifice and service coming from your faith, I am glad and rejoice with all of you. 18 So you too should be glad and rejoice with me.

Verse 17 What kind of “drink offering” is Paul speaking about? Probably the Old Testament kind; even if the Philippian Christians weren’t Jewish in background, they would probably have learned a fair bit about Jewish beliefs and practices as they started to explore their new faith. And some of them had been interested in Judaism even before they had heard the gospel from Paul, going each Sabbath to the “place of prayer” south of the city on the bank of the River Gangitis.

There were drink offerings involved in Greek customs too: ritual libations to the gods; ceremonial outpourings of wine on new graves; splashing wine on the floor to inaugurate a party. But the key thing about the Old Testament drink offering was that it was a supplement to something else. It was poured out to accompany another kind of sacrifice. Every day, for example, the Jewish priests sacrificed a lamb in the morning and another at sunset; and each time a litre of wine (approximately) was poured out around the altar as well.

And the drink offering was for God alone. The worshippers didn’t share any of it (as they did with other sacrifices).

All of this makes sense of the picture Paul is drawing here: the “sacrifice and service” of the Philippians was one kind of offering to God; his own contribution (is he talking about the possibility of his death here, or of all the sacrifices of his life?) is an additional, supplementary drink offering, poured out to God alone.

In days gone by there were old Bible teachers who used to write extensively about the “typical” meaning of the Old Testament offerings, and it’s interesting that they always associated the drink offering with joy. Wine is what makes the heart glad (Psalm 104:15). Perhaps that was Paul associated with the drink offering too; and it would explain why he includes this picture in his great epistle of joy – then goes on from it to say, “I am glad… So you too should be glad.”

The sacrifice of his life will be worth it if the Philippians hold firmly to the word of life. In fact, it will be more than worth it; it will be a source of exultation. He will “rejoice and co-rejoice with you” (chairo kai sugchairo) , and they should “rejoice and co-rejoice with me” (same words, repeated).

We’re back again to the themes of joy in sacrifice and joy in other people. Our lives need to be so interlinked that the joy of others transfers naturally into our emotions too. And we need to be so committed to the service of God that anything that advances it brings us joy too, however painful it may be for us personally.

What’s the connection of this verse with what goes before? The IVP New Testament Commentary is helpful here. It claims that the “even if” at the start of verse 17 is “not to be taken as concessive (‘even though’) but as intensive, ‘if indeed this is happening’ (as the case really is)”. Paul isn’t saying he may be “poured out”; he’s saying he already is being. Then the Commentary continues:

If this is how we are to understand the if part of the clause, then what of the connection with verse 16? The logic seems to be that rather than Paul's having run in vain, which in fact is unthinkable, his present suffering, which is also on their behalf in the midst of their own suffering, presents the real picture of their relationship. What is missing is an implied middle step. Thus the whole would go something like "I expect you to be my grounds for boasting at the day of Christ, evidence that I have not laboured in vain. (And presently my labour includes imprisonment, as yours does suffering in Philippi.) But if indeed my present struggle represents a kind of drink offering to go along with your own suffering on behalf of the gospel, then I rejoice."

Verse 18 Rejoicing because Paul is being “poured out” for them? It almost sounds cruel. But it isn’t. When we see how much other Christians may sacrifice for us, simply because we’re brothers and sisters, it humbles us, fills us with gratitude and amazement, and helps us catch a glimpse of the staggering depths of the love of God, which is being modelled by those who are suffering on our behalf. And that brings joy.

But it’s sugchairo as well as chairo – we’re rejoicing with those who suffer too. It isn’t that we do the rejoicing while they do the tough bit. Those who pay the price, and those who reap the benefit, can share the gladness together.

It always humbled me, when I went to Poland in the Communist years, to see how impoverished and oppressed Christians were encouraged by the presence of Westerners. Surely they should have been resentful of our comfort, or at least proud of their superior, costly track record of service? Shouldn’t they have demanded our gratitude for keeping the flame alive in a part of the world where atheist materialism was trying hard to snuff it out? But they never were.

Was their friendliness motivated by a desire to exploit the relationship, to gain Western contacts and financial advantages for themselves? Very, very rarely. It was just pure joy at meeting other Christians, wherever they came from, and having an opportunity to share the life of Christ with people from a different culture. Who was doing better, and who was enduring suffering, didn’t enter into it. We could rejoice in what God was doing to all of us, different though our situations were.