Joy in Chains

A prisoner sits with a chain on his wrist, waiting to hear whether he will be set free or sentenced to death. And he is writing a letter. Over and over, one word keeps appearing in it. Joy.

Paul is writing to the church in Philippi, in northern Greece. It was the first church he ever started in Europe. He remembers it well: Lydia the cloth dealer who opened her home, the night in the Philippian jail when he and Silas sang hymns at midnight and an earthquake shook the doors open. The believers there love Paul. When they heard he was in prison again, they sent a friend called Epaphroditus with a gift to help him. Now Paul writes back. They must be worried about him. So the first thing he does is tell them how he is really doing.

I want you to know, brothers and sisters, Paul writes, that what has happened to me has actually helped the good news move forward. How? Everyone in the whole palace guard, and everyone else around, knows that I am in chains because of Christ. The soldiers who take turns guarding him have all heard why he's there. And it doesn't stop there. Because of my chains, Paul says, most of the believers here have become more confident in the Lord. They dare to speak God's word more boldly and without fear. Paul's chains were meant to stop the message. Instead they've given it a push.

Not everyone's motives are pure, Paul admits. Some are preaching Christ out of envy and rivalry, hoping to stir up trouble for Paul while he's stuck in prison. Others preach out of goodwill and love, knowing Paul is there to defend the gospel. You might expect Paul to be upset. But listen to what he says. “What then? notwithstanding, every way, whether in pretence, or in truth, Christ is preached; and I therein do rejoice, yea, and will rejoice.” It isn't about me, Paul says. Jesus is being talked about. That's what matters. And I know that through your prayers and the help of the Spirit of Jesus Christ, this will all turn out for my deliverance.

Then Paul faces the hardest question of all. Will he live or die? His hope is that he won't be ashamed, but that Christ will be honoured in his body, whether by life or by death. “For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.” If I go on living, Paul says, that means more fruitful work. If I die, I go to be with Christ. Which would I choose? I don't know. I'm torn between the two. I long to depart and be with Christ, which is far better. But it's more necessary for you that I stay. So, Paul says, I am convinced I will remain, and continue with you all, for your progress and joy in the faith. Then, when I come to you again, you will have even more reason to boast in Christ Jesus because of me.

Philippi was named after King Philip of Macedon, the father of Alexander the Great. In forty-two BC, the armies of Mark Antony and Octavian defeated Brutus and Cassius, the assassins of Julius Caesar, in a famous battle just outside the city. Afterwards, Roman army veterans were settled there, and Philippi became a Roman colony. Acts calls it exactly that. So when Paul mentions the palace guard, his Philippian friends, living in a city full of old soldiers, knew just the kind of men he meant.

Joy in chains. You'll find it in Philippians chapter one, verses twelve to twenty-six. A prisoner who could not know his future, but knew that whatever happened, Christ would be honoured, and that was enough to fill him with joy. So here is a question to carry with you. In a hard situation you are facing, how might God be using it for good?