Philippians 2:25–30

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.

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).

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 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 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 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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."

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.

"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.

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.

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!

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).

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.

Epaphroditus had been sent twice: first by his brothers in Philippi, then by Paul — and Epaphroditus went. And when he got home to Philippi, how his friends and brothers would rejoice! They had been so sad and anxious, and so Paul had sent him the more diligently, or speedily. But now they rejoiced again. Paul does not say he rejoiced to see his beloved friend and brother leave him. He says he was less sorrowful, because he knew the joy of that meeting so soon to take place in Philippi.

The verb has a second meaning: it is used for greeting someone, and so for "farewell." But the context keeps that sense within narrow limits... Everywhere else it means "rejoice," or "be glad." That is strikingly true in the letter to the Philippians, where it is a clear keynote: Philippians 1:18; 2:17-18, 28; 3:1; and 4:4, 10.

There is such a thing as the Spirit of God identifying Himself with human affections, as well as with divine ones. We find divine affections in Philippians 1, and human affections here in Philippians 2. The Holy Spirit has been pleased to bring down divine affections, so to speak, and put them into us. He has also been pleased to bring the human affections of the saints to life... The Apostle does not say, "And that I may rejoice too." There is no unreality here, nothing but transparent truthfulness, as well as the most blessed love... He did feel the pain of parting with Epaphroditus. But he could rejoice that such a help went to them, because they would rejoice. And he himself would be the less sorrowful. It was his loss, but it would certainly be their gain.

Verses 26-28 give us a fine picture of delicate affection and tender thought for others. Epaphroditus had been sick, and for the work of Christ he came close to death. The Philippians had heard of it, and this distressed the heart of the devoted sufferer. It was a deep trial to him that he had caused them even a moment's anxiety. It made him long to see them again, so that their hearts would be at rest. Paul fully shared this feeling. He wanted to keep him, but he urged him to return, so that the saints would rejoice when they saw him again. Wonderful! What does the selfish heart of man, as man, know of such feelings? This is the Spirit's fruit — He forms the new man after Christ.

God's all-wise dealings with His children form a mysterious chain. The weightiest results often hang on the slenderest links! Without the sickness of Epaphroditus, and the kind sympathies that followed, we might never have had this priceless letter. Both the blow and the mercy came upon Epaphroditus for our sake — for us in later generations, who have thought over this matchless writing to the profit and delight of our souls. God's Church would then keep a living picture and example before it to the end. It shows what His grace is, and what that grace works out in practice when men receive it with understanding into their hearts. To part from Epaphroditus was no joy to Paul; but in thinking of the glad effect of his return to them, he found a medicine for his grief.

I gather from this instruction, which might seem unnecessary, that the Philippians did not hold Epaphroditus in as high esteem as the Apostle thought right. There were both overseers and deacons in God's assembly there, as we know. But Epaphroditus was likely an untried man. He came into public notice for the first time as a volunteer, carrying the aid the Philippian saints meant to send to Paul.

Everywhere else it means "rejoice," or "be glad," and especially so in the letter to the Philippians, where it is a clear keynote: Philippians 1:18; 2:17-18, 28; 3:1; and 4:4, 10. We must also take account of the related word "joy" in the same letter: Philippians 1:4, 25; 2:2, 29; and 4:1. That is impossible to mistake.

Notice how careful he is to commend his fellow labourer to the esteem of the saints. Epaphroditus does not seem to have been a man of much outward mark. But men with great gift ought to stand firm for those with lesser gift. In the Apostle's case there is no jealousy about others. There is the greatest desire to keep up their value in the eyes of the saints... We find no great account of what he had done in preaching or teaching. But there was the earnest, unselfish service of love in this blessed man of God. That was enough for the Apostle Paul, and it ought to be enough for God's children too.

Sometimes we are quicker to honour the ready speakers, or those who take the leading part in a conference, or those who can press home the teachings we love most. So the Lord reminds us through Epaphroditus who it is that He delights to honour. They are the men who go when and where they are sent, and who are ready to gamble their lives, if need be, for the work of Christ.

Then notice the tender care of the blessed apostle. It is like a tender mother sending her beloved son away. She commits him with earnest affection to the care of a friend. "So receive him in the Lord with all joy, and honor such men." Why? Was it because of his gifts, his rank or his wealth? No; but because of his self-surrender.

I can know and acknowledge all those who labour according to God among His flock. Show me your authority for appointing them. That is the question. Here are the passages that teach me to know and recognise those who give themselves to the work, and to obey them because of this work: 1 Corinthians 16:15-16; Philippians 2:29; 1 Thessalonians 5:12-13; Hebrews 13:7, 17... An exhortation to obey is quite a different thing from the authority to appoint.

A messenger on such an errand ran many risks that modern travel has removed. Epaphroditus likely set out in weak health on his dangerous errand. But he took no account of his life, if only he might spend it in the direct service of his Lord. And to serve His apostle in his chains was, he was sure, to serve Christ Himself. Clearly, something in his illness tied it to his visit to Rome and his personal service to the apostle. At home he would not have run the same risk of such a sickness.

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 to prevent something, and to draw the heart nearer to Christ. Who would dare to say that the sickness of Epaphroditus in Philippians 2 was a punishment for some particular sin? The apostle tells us plainly that he "nearly died for the work of Christ."

"He drew near even to death, gambling his life." The word translated gambling is another very rare word. It appears nowhere else in the New Testament. It means to "throw down a stake," as a gambler does. The stake he threw down was his life.

There lay the beloved apostle in his prison at Rome, and there lay the loving gift of the saints at Philippi. But how was it to be got to him? These were not the days of bank cheques and postal money orders. Nor of railway travel. It was no easy matter to get from Philippi to Rome in those days. But Epaphroditus, that dear, unassuming, self-surrendering servant of Christ, offered himself to supply the missing link. He did the very thing that was needed and nothing more. He became the channel of communication between the assembly at Philippi and the apostle at Rome.

In the last verse he seems to hint that they had been a little careless about him — "your lack of service" — and he hints the same in chapter 4:10. He gives a very gentle rebuke. Then he softens it by expressing his confidence in their loving care.

Notice how careful he is to commend his fellow labourer to the esteem of the saints. Epaphroditus does not seem to have been a man of much outward standing. But highly gifted men ought to stand up firmly for those of lesser gift... We find no great account of what he had done in preaching or teaching. But there was the earnest, unselfish service of love in this blessed man of God. That was enough for the apostle Paul, and it ought to be enough for God's children too.

What a tide of divine affection and sympathy rolled in on that unassuming, self-sacrificing servant of Christ! The whole assembly at Philippi, the blessed apostle and, above all, God Himself — all engaged in thinking about a man who did not think about himself. Suppose Epaphroditus had been a self-seeker, taken up with himself, his interests, or even his work. Then his name would never have shone on the page of inspiration. But no; he thought of others, not of himself. Therefore God and His apostle and His Church thought of him.