PHILIPPIANS 2:26-30

26 For he longs for all of you and is distressed because you heard he was ill. 27 Indeed 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. 28 Therefore 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. 29 Welcome him in the Lord with great joy, and honour men like him, 30 because he almost died for the work of Christ, risking his life to make up for the help you could not give me.

Verse 26 Epaphroditus had more than fond memories of his home town; he really wanted to get back there. The word epipotheo used to describe his feelings expresses the most intense desire; it can even be used of coveting or lust.

It’s the word chosen to describe the deer panting for the water in Greek translations of Psalm 42:1. It’s the word Peter uses when he says that we should earnestly desire pure spiritual milk, just as babies long for the breast (1 Peter 2:2 – and that echoes Psalm 119:131, where the Greek translation Peter knew uses epipotheo again). It’s the word Paul uses to express our desire for our heavenly dwelling, away from all the troubles of the body (2 Cor 5:2).

Paul longs for Timothy in this way (2 Tim 1:4) and longs to see the Romans so that he could impart some spiritual gift to them (Rom 1:11). He’s already said that he “longs” to see the Philippians (1:8) – same word exactly.

This all helps to give us a picture of Epaphroditus’ state of mind. He couldn’t wait to get back home, and yet he was willing to stay at his post for as long as Paul needed him. (The word Paul uses for “send” in verse 25 tells us that Epaphroditus was at his disposal; there was no understanding that he’d deliver the gift, then automatically go back to Philippi.)

I wonder how many missionaries have paid the same price since. To stay in someone else’s country while all your instincts are prompting you to go home – knowing that your mother is ill, or your affairs are being badly looked after, or your home church is in trouble – can be an extremely difficult calling. And when communications are irregular, and news comes in a tantalisingly piecemeal, unreliable fashion… it would almost drive you to distraction.

Missionaries – I’m told - need to learn very quickly that powerful, uncontrollable homesickness goes with the job. It isn’t a sign of faltering commitment or of misinterpreting the call of God. It isn’t sinful! It’s simply one of the hazards of Christian service.

What is important is not so much how strongly you feel it – but what you do with it. The Bible contains the story of another culturally misplaced servant of God who didn’t know how to handle his ethnic antipathy to the people he was with, and just wanted to get out of his calling. He ended by grimly sticking to his post, but developing a bitterness which made him absolutely useless, as well as personally frustrated to the point of death. That was Jonah.

Verse 27 Epaphroditus had clearly been in an extremely serious condition; Paul would have been devastated by his death. But “God had mercy on him”. It’s often been remarked that this shows the limits of Paul’s abilities: no miracles of instant healing for Epaphroditus – just a nerve-wracking feeling that, yes, he might die. The apostles couldn’t command miracles at will; they were simply the instruments of God’s power when he chose to act that way. Their miracles were “signs” (Acts 2:43, 5:12) – declarations of the gospel, visual aids for the coming kingdom; they weren’t automatically guaranteed, make-life-easier advantages enjoyed by all Christian leaders everywhere.

And so Epaphroditus’ healing happened because “God had mercy”, not because a wonder-working Christian leader channelled supernatural miracle power in a routine way. Unlike some evangelists today, Paul wouldn’t have conducted a “miracle crusade” in which everyone who came up on stage was instantaneously “slain in the Spirit” and claimed healing. Maybe that’s why Paul didn’t make $120 million a year…

But this particular evangelist reportedly has a very different theology from the one Paul expresses here:

"People of God," shouts Benny, "we must never speak such faith-destroying words as these: `If it be thy will, Lord.'

Instead, Paul makes it clear, healing is a gracious act of God’s mercy not something we can order up at will. And God does heal. The opposite and equal heresy would be to claim that since God’s people are vulnerable to the same difficulties in life as everybody else, with no exemptions, it is pointless to ask for God’s special intervention. Everyone suffers, and we will never understand why until we get to heaven.

But this little verse nails that particular heresy too. It does make sense to pray for people. It isn’t pointless, because God’s acts of providence are sometimes acts of mercy too. The events that take place in our life aren’t always beyond our comprehension; from time to time, God’s loving concern for us shines through.

Verse 28 In the last three verses Paul has kept on giving an unexpected topsy-turvy conclusion to his remarks. “Epaphroditus was ill, and extremely distressed… but not for himself: for you! God had mercy on him… which was great for me! So he’s coming back to see you… which will bring rejoicing to you and me, not just him!” Once again, he’s taking every opportunity to stress how inextricably our emotions and personal concerns are bound up with one another in the family of God. “If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honoured, every part rejoices with it” (1 Cor 12:26).

This means three things.

(a) If I am unconcerned about the joys and sorrows of other Christians, as much as if they were my own, I am not living in the love of God as I should be.

(b) Whatever I do and whatever happens to me, I need to be concerned about its impact on other Christians who love me, as well as its impact on me personally. If I’m worried about others (as Epaphroditus was when he was ill), I won’t have time to become neurotically obsessed with my own problems. Self-pity is a killer.

(c) Part of the price of belonging to the family of God is an openness to others. Unless people can see far enough into my life to share my concerns, and rejoice and suffer with me, I’m shutting myself off from the shared life which is supposed to sustain me. So my vulnerability to inspection is a prerequisite of my continuing health: “Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed,” advises James (5:16).


Verse 29 The word Paul uses for “welcome” has two quite different senses in the New Testament. Prosdechomai means “I accept to myself, I admit”, but it’s also the word used in several passages for “waiting for the coming of Christ”.

That’s because its literal Greek meaning is “I receive towards”. Waiting for Jesus’ coming is more than a matter of looking out for it; it implies a whole way of ordering and patterning our lives, getting ready for the great event. And so prosdechomai talks about receiving expectantly. It takes forward planning, imagination, to “welcome” it properly.

The Philippians aren’t just to have Epaphroditus back peaceably. They are to accept him, to admit him to the very centre of their shared life again. (How many missionaries come home and feel they don’t belong any longer? An American church planter in Spain once told me that his kids complained that they didn’t belong in Spain, and they certainly didn’t belong in America; they felt as if their homeland must be somewhere in mid-Atlantic.)

And there is to be a forward look, an anticipation, “receiving towards”. What will Epaphroditus contribute to their shared life that isn’t already there? What will he have to bring back from the dramatic experiences of the last few months, which will broaden their experience and understanding? How will his gifts and insights strengthen the life of the church?

A proper welcome means more than a banner and a cake. It means allowing the newcomer to find his true, valued place in the group of people he’s come to.

Verse 30 Epaphroditus deserves their honour because of the risks he took with his own life. There’s a play on words here (something Paul enjoyed – look at Philemon 10-11, where he has fun with the name “Onesimus”, which means “useful”). Epaphroditus, as we’ve seen, is named after the goddess Aphrodite (Venus), and she was the patron goddess of gamblers. Indeed, as Paul knew well, when gamblers in his day rolled a lucky dice, they would exclaim, “Epaphrodite!” – “Aphrodite has favoured me!”

And so Paul invents a new Greek word to describe how Epaphroditus “gambled” with his own life – parabouleusamenos. No existing word would do! Christian “risky living” isn’t quite the same as gambling, but it’s close. Says Shawn Rabon,

“We are called to live risky lives, whether the risk is a life or death one or simply a risk of losing friends or popularity. When God calls us to follow him at all costs, that means accepting the risk factor. That’s why he asks us to count the cost, take up our cross and follow him. Risky living isn’t about disregarding the rules or authority but having the courage to follow the authority of God.”

In the year 250, when the Decian persecution broke out, Cyprian was bishop of Carthage. He fled the city and managed to lead his flock from a safe distance. For this, he was accused of cowardice.

Two years later, a plague broke out in Carthage. Pagans were fleeing in terror; bodies were being left in the streets, where they rotted and caused further pestilence. Cyprian assembled the Christians together and told them they mustn’t desert their post; God wanted them to risk everything for him. So they stayed and buried the dead, tended the sick, cared for the abandoned. Many of them lost the wager and paid with their own lives.

Cyprian didn’t die; but only six years later, in the next wave of persecution, he didn’t run away. He was condemned and died with great bravery. He’d learned something about risky living. As he told the Christians in Carthage when the plague broke out:

“What a grandeur of spirit it is to struggle with all the powers of an unshaken mind against so many onsets of devastation and death! what sublimity, to stand erect amid the desolation of the human race, and not to lie prostrate with those who have no hope in God; but rather to rejoice, and to embrace the benefit of the occasion; that in thus bravely showing forth our faith, and by suffering endured, going forward to Christ by the narrow way that Christ trod, we may receive the reward of His life and faith according to His own judgment!"

And the Christians of Carthage became known as the parabolani – the gamblers.

He was a gambler too, my Christ,
He took His life and threw
It for a world redeemed.
And ere His agony was done,
Before the weltering sun went down,
Crowning that day with its crimson crown,
He knew that He had won.

G A Studdert Kennedy