but I have thought it necessary to send to you Epaphroditus, my brother and fellow-workman and fellow-soldier, but your messenger and minister to my need,
Paul is a prisoner in Rome, and the assembly at Philippi has sent one of their own with a gift to relieve him. In verse 25 Paul introduces him as he sends him home again. The five titles Paul gives him say more than any list of gifts could.
The gift from Philippi still had to reach a prison in Rome. Someone had to carry it.
There lay the beloved apostle in his prison at Rome, and there lay the loving offering of the saints at Philippi. But how could it reach him? These were not the days of bank cheques and post-office money orders. No, nor of railway travel. It was no easy matter to get from Philippi to Rome in those days. But Epaphroditus, that dear, modest, self-giving servant of Christ, offered himself to supply the missing link. He did exactly what was needed and nothing more. He became the channel of communication between the assembly at Philippi and the apostle at Rome.
The first title is the plainest, and one writer treats it as the weightiest of the five.
He was the apostle's co-worker and co-fighter. But first of all, and above all the rest, Paul calls him "my brother." He was not only a brother, as all "in Christ" were. He was a "brother indeed" to the apostle. The apostle clearly saw him as a brother true to his name, who loved Paul and his fellow-saints, not "in word or talk but in deed and in truth" (1 John 3:18); as "a brother is born for adversity" (Prov. 17:17).
Both titles describe what Paul himself went through. One of them Paul gives to almost no one else.
To be a fellow-workman of Paul meant sharing "toil and hardship," "weariness and painfulness" (2 Cor. 11:27). It meant never stopping "night and day," and doing it "with tears"… Many others held this title besides Epaphroditus. But the next title, fellow-soldier, belongs to only one other man: Archippus… You would hardly expect a man whose name means "Charming, Lovely" to be a soldier. That only draws out our hearts the more in loving admiration, as we see the courage with which he risked his life — gambled with it — to serve Paul.
The Greek word behind "messenger" is apostolos. One writer explains why that does not place Epaphroditus on the same footing as Paul.
The quality of the apostolos depends on the party sending, as well as on the nature of the mission. So I have no doubt the translators were right to keep the two missions apart. The Philippians sent Epaphroditus to minister to Paul's needs. The Lord sent and authorised men like Paul to build and regulate the Church.
The word Paul uses for "minister" is a special one. Its background is the Old Testament priesthood.
The word translated "minister" is also a special word: leitourgon. It appears about 140 times in the Greek Old Testament, mostly for the priestly service of those days. In the New Testament its usual associations are sacred, if not sacrificial… In chapter 4:18 Paul calls these gifts from Philippi "a fragrant offering, a sacrifice acceptable and pleasing to God." That shows he looked on the service of Epaphroditus as a priestly service, and on the gifts he carried as a sacrifice offered up to God. This gives great dignity to Epaphroditus and to his mission.
The titles explain why Paul would rather have kept him. He sends him back instead.
The Apostle may well have wished to keep him longer by his side. He valued him highly as a companion in labour and as a fellow-soldier in the good warfare of the faith, and he valued his diligent and loving personal service too. But, true to his own teaching as one who instructed others, he considers not himself but them.
Earlier in this chapter Paul sets out the Lord humbling Himself and being exalted. The chapter then turns to an ordinary man with the same mind.
The same life and mind was in Epaphroditus. He was one of the Philippians, an ordinary man like ourselves. Yet Paul heaped honours upon him when he described him as "my brother and fellow worker and fellow soldier, and your messenger and minister to my need." Our chapter gives six verses to the perfect pattern, to the Lord's humbling of Himself and His exaltation. It gives six more to Epaphroditus and the way he answered to that pattern. And Epaphroditus was neither an apostle nor an apostle's delegate; he was just a brother.
- Brother — the first title is family, not office. He was a brother "born for adversity" when Paul needed one.
- Worker — "fellow worker" was no light compliment. It meant sharing Paul's toil, tears and hardship.
- Soldier — a title Paul gives to only one other man, earned by the courage that risked his own life to serve.
- Messenger — the Philippians sent him; the Lord sent Paul. The sender measures the office.
- Minister — his errand carries a priestly word. The gift he carried was a sacrifice pleasing to God, and he was no mere courier.
since he had a longing desire after you all, and was distressed because ye had heard that he was sick;
Epaphroditus had carried a gift from the church at Philippi to Paul, and Paul is now sending him home. He explains why: the sick man's distress is not about his own body, but about the news that had reached his friends.
Paul does more than announce a travel plan. He opens his heart about the man who links him to the church that sent him.
I cannot imagine a more admirable picture of divine affections flowing out without hindrance to these saints… His heart glows, and he opened out all his feelings about this link between himself and them.
The verse puts the weight in a surprising place. The illness itself did not crush him. The report of it did.
He risked his life to serve other people. At death's door, he was not taken up with himself or his illnesses. He was thinking of others. "He has been longing for you all and has been distressed" — not because he was sick, but — "because you heard that he was ill." Here was true love. He knew what his beloved brothers at Philippi would feel when they heard of his serious illness — an illness brought on by his willing-hearted service to them.
One writer measures this against how most of us react when ill, and notes what Paul did about it:
If we are sick, we are rather glad for our friends to know, so that they may sympathize and pray for us. But with Epaphroditus it was just the opposite. And so, to relieve the deep distress of Epaphroditus and the anxiety of the Philippian believers, Paul thought it necessary to send him home quickly.
Older translations say "full of heaviness"; the ESV says "distressed." The Greek word behind it is rare. It appears in only one other place in Scripture, and that gives this moment great weight.
We can hardly pass over the word translated "sore distress." A sacredness attaches to it, because the only other place in Scripture that uses it is our Lord's agony in the garden: Matt. 26:37; Mark 14:33.
Another writer points to the same two places, and finds in the word the feeling of being far from home:
The word ademonein may rightly be called a deeply moving word. From a likely derivation, it means the homeless feeling of someone away from his own country and friends… It is found in Mark 14:33 and in the parallel passage in Matthew (Matt. 26:37), and only once more in the New Testament: Phil. 2:26, of Epaphroditus.
His worry assumes something about the Philippians: that they love him enough to be upset.
What made Epaphroditus anxious was that the Philippians had heard he had been sick, and he knew it. He counted on their love. They will be anxious, he thought, and will not rest until they know how I am. I must set off to them. Think of a son who knew a mother's love, and who had heard he was ill. He would count on her worry and her longing for news. He would be anxious for her to know he was well.
His worry had another edge. He had carried their gift to Paul, and his collapse could make the trip look wasted.
He also carried their messages and gifts to Paul, so he had a special reason for unease. They might think his illness had defeated the aims of his mission. So on his sickbed, and after his recovery, he thought less about his own case than about theirs.
Philippians 2 began by urging believers to look beyond their own interests. Epaphroditus is that teaching in flesh and blood.
The mind that was in Christ Jesus was found in him too. He ventured his life to serve his Lord… This was a fine case of a man not looking "only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others." It was unselfishness indeed!
- Mind — The chapter calls believers to look to the interests of others. Epaphroditus lives that out on a sickbed.
- Direction — His grief points outward. He is not distressed that he is ill, but that they heard he was ill.
- Word — The word for his distress is the one used of Christ's agony in the garden. His outward grief carried that kind of weight.
- Trust — His worry rests on their love. He knew they could not rest without news, as a son knows his mother cannot.
- Errand — He carried their gift to Paul. He feared they would think the trip had failed, so again his thoughts ran to them, not to himself.
for he was also sick close to death, but God had mercy on him, and not indeed on him alone, but also on me, that I might not have sorrow upon sorrow.
Epaphroditus came so close to dying that his recovery could only be called mercy. Paul counts that mercy twice — once for the sick man, once for himself, spared a second grief on top of the grief he already carried.
Many people assume that illness in a believer's life is God punishing a particular sin. Commentators answer that assumption with this case.
It would be a very serious mistake to say "that all the trials and sufferings of Christians are punishments for some particular sin." Very often God sends these things as a preventive and to draw the heart nearer to Christ. Who would dare say that the sickness of Epaphroditus in Philippians 2 was a punishment for some particular sin? The apostle expressly tells us that "for the work of Christ, he was near to death."
No miracle raised Epaphroditus; God's mercy did. One writer sets that beside what the apostles' miracles were for.
Notice that the disciples never did miracles to save themselves from suffering. They did none to heal their friends when they were ill either. Paul left Trophimus sick at Miletus; it was only God's mercy that healed Epaphroditus. The miracles the apostles did confirmed the testimony. Christ, glorified with the Father, was the object and source of that testimony.
Earlier in the same letter Paul had written that to depart and be with Christ is far better. So calling survival a mercy can look like a contradiction.
"But God had mercy on him." We must remember what Paul said only one chapter earlier. He said "to die is gain," and that to depart and be with Christ is "far better." Yet now he says God had mercy on Epaphroditus in sparing him... So God has mercy on us, and sometimes, if He sees fit, spares us or those we love, to stay down here a little longer, to live for Himself. But let us be careful. In our prayers about such a matter let us say, "Your will be done." Otherwise we may have the sad experience of Hezekiah. He gained fifteen years of life, but in those years he became the father of Manasseh, one of the most wicked of Judah's kings.
Paul does not stop at what God did for Epaphroditus. He counts the healing as kindness done to himself. One writer draws from that how God views the sickness of His children.
See how the apostle loves to trace the goodness of God, not merely toward the person who was the immediate object of God's dealings, but toward himself also. Scripture nowhere suggests such a thing in the mind of God as looking coldly on the sickness or death of His children. Too often this is the case with us, as if it did not much matter, or as if it were a mark of spirituality to be like a stone.
The phrase assumes sorrow already in place. Losing Epaphroditus would have added a second grief, and the Philippians would have felt the loss too.
Paul already had much sorrow. He would have had sorrow upon sorrow if the Philippians had lost their beloved servant and messenger through the services he had done for them. But God had spared Epaphroditus, and the apostle himself... What a picture of mutual love and kind concern!
That grief sits inside a letter known for joy.
Christians are richly blessed. They can draw on unfailing, unlimited and endless wells of joy, and circumstances cannot stop them flowing. And yet this is not to say that they do not know sorrow (or that they should pretend not to feel it). Not so in Paul's case. In this very letter he tells us about Epaphroditus, his fellow-worker and fellow-soldier. If illness had snatched Epaphroditus away, Paul would have had "sorrow upon sorrow" (2:27).
A quick miracle would have closed the story early. Instead the sickness became the reason this man's name is known at all.
And we have noticed what great losers you and I would be if God had miraculously healed Epaphroditus — for we would probably never have heard of him.
- Cause — he nearly died doing the work of Christ, so his illness was no punishment for some particular sin.
- Gift — Paul worked no miracle here; God's mercy healed Epaphroditus, and mercy is His to give, not ours to demand.
- Prayer — spared life is real mercy, but Hezekiah's extra fifteen years warn us to pray, "Your will be done."
- Reach — the mercy landed on Paul too. God never looks coldly on the sickness of His children, and neither should we.
- Result — joy in this letter never pretends sorrow away. And if God had healed him at once, we would never have heard of Epaphroditus.