Let us turn to the Epistle to the Philippians, Chapter 1, Verse 21:
For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.
Let us pray.
Lord, once again we commit this morning into Your hands. We thank You that You have brought us thus far, and we pray that in this time You will speak to our hearts. Where the Spirit is, there is liberty. So we pray that, Lord, You will grant us a time full of liberty in You.
Lord, we say to You that we are here. Speak to us, Lord. In the name of our Lord Jesus, we pray. Amen.
We would like to continue on the subject of experience, especially Christian experience. As you know, we are studying the life of Paul.
We have just read Philippians 1:21: “For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.” We all know very well that in the New Testament there is a book called the Epistle to the Ephesians. That book is especially about revelation. If we want to know the highest revelation shown in the Word of God, no doubt Ephesians is the book.
But when it comes to experience, if we want to look for one book that shows us the deepest experience, it must be the Epistle to the Philippians. If, after reading the whole letter, we ask the Lord to give us one phrase that tells us what that experience is, I think the phrase we have just read summarizes it: “For to me to live is Christ.”
Paul stated this while he was roughly in the middle of the third stage of his life. We have already said that Paul’s life can be divided into three periods, approximately eleven years each. From his own words, we know that “to live is Christ” was the feature of his last stage.
Before we enter into that last stage, I think we should return to the second stage and briefly review four major lessons Paul learned. We have already mentioned the first one: guidance.
The second lesson, according to my understanding, is bearing the cross. Paul never spoke directly about bearing the cross in his epistles. We hear that phrase in the four Gospels, but Paul did not speak much about it; rather, he acted upon it.
Bearing the cross is not something merely to talk about. It is something to enter into. Especially in the second stage of Paul’s life, we discover that he had indeed learned this wonderful lesson.
For example, in Romans 8:36, he says:
Even as it is written,
For Thy sake we are killed all the day long;
We were accounted as sheep for the slaughter.
And in 1 Corinthians 4:9-13, he says:
For, I think, God hath set forth us the apostles last of all, as men doomed to death: for we are made a spectacle unto the world, both to angels and men.
We are fools for Christ’s sake, but ye are wise in Christ; we are weak, but ye are strong; ye have glory, but we have dishonor.
Even unto this present hour we both hunger, and thirst, and are naked, and are buffeted, and have no certain dwelling-place;
And we toil, working with our own hands: being reviled, we bless; being persecuted, we endure;
Being defamed, we entreat: we are made as the filth of the world, the offscouring of all things, even until now.
A man bears his own cross and follows the Lord. That is the second lesson.
The third lesson may be expressed by a phrase from 1 Thessalonians 5:10:
Who died for us, that, whether we wake or sleep, we should live together with Him.
That is a very interesting phrase. To me, it somehow summarizes the two letters to the Thessalonians. What kind of life is it to live together with Him? If we read these two epistles, we come to the conclusion that it is a life of faith, love, and hope. It is a life in which the kingdom is within us, and, more than that, a life holy unto Christ.
That is why we read in 1 Thessalonians 5:23:
And the God of peace Himself sanctify you wholly; and may your spirit and soul and body be preserved entire, without blame at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.
This is a holy, sanctified life. Sanctification for the people of God, for Christians, is not only a position; it is also a life. We have a life that is holy within us, and we are supposed to live that life. This is true of our nature as well as our position.
There is an animal called the ermine. In China, we call it the silver rat. It is a kind of small animal with a very interesting characteristic: it keeps itself very clean. It always shies away from pollution, dirt, and filth.
If a hunter wants to catch it, he puts filthy material at the entrance to its home. Then the hunter chases the animal, and it flees back toward its home. But when it reaches the entrance, it discovers something filthy and polluted there.
The hunter is behind it, but in front of it is something dirty and defiled. Its nature is such that it would rather turn back and face the enemy than pass through the pollution. That is how hunters capture it. It would rather die than be defiled.
Brothers and sisters, this is a picture of a holy, sanctified life. We refuse to be polluted. We want to keep ourselves clean and pure unto the Lord.
The secret of living such a life is to live together with Him. On the one hand, each of us should know how to possess his own body in sanctification and honor. We refuse pollution and seek to keep ourselves clean. But on the other hand, we discover that it is the God of peace Himself who sanctifies us entirely.
This is the secret. When you come to the end of the two Thessalonian letters, you find two very similar phrases. In the first letter we read:
And the God of peace Himself sanctify you wholly.
In the second letter we read:
Now the Lord of peace Himself give you peace at all times in all ways.
When I surveyed these two letters, I was especially struck by one word: Himself. “May the God of peace Himself sanctify you wholly.”
Today we have many saints, many Christians, many servants of God, and many angels. But in order for us to be wholly sanctified, God Himself must do the work. God does not ask an angel to do it for Him. The God of peace Himself will sanctify us.
This really comforted me very much. I remember when I went through cataract surgery. It was very expensive. The operation cost about six thousand dollars for one eye, so naturally I wanted the best possible service.
The doctor had a clinic in the Empire State Building. He was a famous, internationally known doctor. Every morning he travelled to the building by helicopter. I thought that since I was paying so much, surely I would be able to speak with him for at least five minutes.
But when I entered the clinic, I discovered there were two hundred people there, and I was only one of them. The doctor had many assistants. I went from one to another; everyone checked something. I expected the doctor himself to do the examination, but his assistants handled the whole process.
Finally, I spoke to him. He read the records and said, “You will be fine. Make an appointment and come; we will help you.” That was all. I tried to say more, but he would not allow it. Later I discovered that I had probably only one minute with him.
I was frustrated. I worried because he had many students and apprentices working with him. How could I know who was actually handling my eye? I could not see anything. But one thing I could hear was his voice saying, “Dr. Chen, you will be all right.”
In the end, everything was fine. Brothers and sisters, this is very important. How can we live a holy, sanctified life? Thank God: the God of peace Himself sanctifies us entirely. That is the secret of living together with Him.
Now we come to the fourth lesson: the hindrance to the growth of life. What kind of hindrance is it? If you consider the second stage of Paul’s life, you must come to the conclusion that the hindrance is the flesh.
In Bible schools and theological colleges, students must normally take courses on Romans and Galatians. In studying Paul’s theology, professors will point out that one of Paul’s frequently used and important terms is “flesh.” It is indeed a central term in his understanding of the gospel.
Paul uses the word “flesh” many times, especially in Romans, Galatians, and 1 and 2 Corinthians. These letters were written near the end of the second stage of Paul’s life. But when you study 1 and 2 Thessalonians, you scarcely find the word “flesh” at all.
This indicates that Paul was learning some particular lessons during that period. What is the flesh? Let me put it simply: the flesh is the old man.
If you compare verses such as Romans 6:6, “our old man was crucified with Him,” with Galatians 5:24, “they that are of Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with the passions and the lusts thereof,” you will come to the conclusion that the old man and the flesh are closely related.
Yet there is a distinction that may help us, especially younger people. Consider someone with heart trouble. During normal times he may look perfectly well. You may not know that he has heart trouble. But when he has a heart attack, then you know that there is a problem.
In this sense, the flesh is the old man in action. A fleshly outburst is like a heart attack. When it comes, we discover the condition that was hidden within.
When my daughter was very small, I wanted to teach her lessons. Sometimes she would wonder what her great-grandmother looked like. So I waited until she lost her temper. Then immediately I put a mirror in front of her and said, “Look—that is exactly what she looked like.”
Most of the time my daughter was quiet, almost like an angel. But when she lost her temper, it was like a volcano exploding. Then you could see the old man exposed.
What is the old man? The old man is the flesh concealed. What is the flesh? The flesh is the old man exposed. We all know something of this terrible experience.
It is easy for Christians to recognize the dark side of the flesh, because we all know what it is to sin, to lose our temper, and then to regret it. But the flesh is like a plant that can live in two environments. On the one hand, it is alive to sin; on the other hand, it is alive to something else.
In Galatians 3:3 Paul asks:
Are ye so foolish? having begun by the Spirit, are ye now perfected by the flesh?
We are speaking about spiritual growth. Our problem is that we begin by the Spirit, but then we try to grow and reach maturity by the flesh. The flesh is not only capable of sinning; it is also capable of trying to make us grow.
The flesh is alive to the highest standard of God, which we call the law. On the one hand, the flesh is alive to sin; on the other hand, it is alive to law. It tries to please God, but those who are in the flesh cannot please God.
Sometimes, when we speak of a fleshly attack, we think only of the dark side. We forget the other side: the flesh trying to perform, trying to be holy, trying to fulfil the law in its own strength.
The law represents the standard of God. It represents a holy, sanctified life. But that life must be lived together with Christ. We cannot use our flesh to perform or to reach that standard. We will never arrive there by our own strength.
That is why Romans 6 speaks of deliverance from sin, and Romans 7 speaks of deliverance from the law. When Jesus died for me, I do not have to die. That is good news. But equally good news is that when Christ lives in us, we do not live any longer in ourselves.
The good side of the flesh can be an even greater hindrance to growth. Many sisters try to live the life described in the Sermon on the Mount by sheer effort. They try hard to turn the other cheek, to be patient, and not to speak.
Before they were saved, they bore the burden of sin. After they are saved, they bear the burden of holiness. They try hard, swallow everything, and work in their own strength. But this is not the life of living together with Christ.
These are the four major lessons in the second stage of Paul’s life: guidance, bearing the cross, living together with Christ, and deliverance from the flesh.
Now we come to the last stage. At the end of the second stage, Paul had already reached the prime of both his life and ministry. He wrote 1 and 2 Corinthians, Galatians, and Romans. His ministry was fruitful, and his spiritual life had reached a remarkable maturity.
Then Paul wanted to go on and evangelize the world. He was aiming to go to Rome. When he wrote the Epistle to the Romans, he did not realize that he would suffer as he did. He said that he hoped to come to them in joy by the will of God.
But after he arrived in Jerusalem, he entered into a succession of imprisonments: first in Jerusalem, then in Caesarea, and finally in Rome. Within about five years, there were repeated captivities.
If we use a simple expression to describe this period, we may say that Paul was walking with God. The Book of Acts gives considerable attention to these years. Of its twenty-eight chapters, approximately seven and a half chapters describe this final period.
This reminds us of the Gospel of Luke, which devotes many chapters to the final days of our Lord’s earthly life. These final days in the life of the apostle Paul must therefore be meaningful and important, even if we do not fully understand them.
When I studied the life of Paul, I had a problem. I asked, “Lord, Paul was at the prime of his life and ministry. That was exactly when he was most useful. Why did You allow such limitations upon him?”
Paul had already shaken the world. If God had sent a hundred more Pauls, what a harvest there might have been! Yet God’s ways are higher than our ways.
I had the same question concerning Brother Watchman Nee. When I studied his books, I had the impression that many of his writings had been completed before he was fifty years old. I wondered why the Lord allowed him to be imprisoned rather than using him for many more productive years.
When I was young, I studied the lives of great believers and tried to discover how long they lived. I came to the conclusion that if you loved the Lord, you would live a long life. Darby lived to be eighty-one, George Müller lived to be ninety, and Andrew Murray also lived many years. I comforted myself by thinking that I too would live a long life if I loved the Lord.
But then you encounter someone such as Robert McCheyne, who loved the Lord but died at twenty-nine. Or Lady Powerscourt, who deeply loved the Lord and whose life was so heavenly that, as someone said, “her feet barely touched the ground.” Yet her life was not long.
The Lord has a higher way and a better way. A good book is not necessarily a thick book. A small book may still be a good book. It is not merely a matter of how long we live; it is how we live in the present.
Paul himself, and the saints in Philippi, may have had questions about his imprisonment. That is why Paul wrote:
Now I would have you know, brethren, that the things which happened unto me have fallen out rather unto the progress of the gospel.
At first, Paul’s circumstances may not have seemed like progress for the gospel. They may have seemed like a great hindrance. But Paul went on to say:
So that my bonds became manifest in Christ throughout the whole praetorian guard, and to all the rest.
This is very interesting. Lightfoot, the great scholar, explains that by appealing to Caesar, Paul had placed himself at the emperor’s disposal. When he arrived in Rome, he was handed over to the commander of the imperial guard, the prefect of the Praetorian Guard.
Paul appears to have remained under this guard throughout his captivity. At times he used precise language concerning the chain by which he was bound. According to Roman custom, he was bound by the hand to the soldier guarding him and was never left alone.
As the soldiers relieved one another in constant succession, the praetorians were brought one by one into communication with the prisoner of Jesus Christ.
Day and night, these guards were with Paul. During the daytime he might speak with visitors, receive people, or dictate letters. But for twenty-four hours each day, he was chained to a soldier.
Perhaps at first Paul did not understand the meaning of this chain. He only knew that it was something he had to suffer. But every time the guards changed, he had a new opportunity to speak to another soldier.
When Paul wrote Ephesians 6 about the full armor of God, perhaps he had these soldiers before his eyes. He could describe the armor so vividly because he constantly saw the guards around him.
But more importantly, Paul used the opportunity to preach the gospel to them. After one guard had listened for several hours, another would take his place. One by one, the soldiers heard the gospel. Even if a guard did not want to listen, he could not leave, because he was chained to Paul.
When I was young, some brothers and sisters discussed what kind of occupation would give the best opportunity to win people for the Lord. Someone suggested becoming a barber. If a man is sitting in the chair in the middle of a haircut, especially while his beard is being shaved, he cannot easily leave. He has to listen!
But Paul had an opportunity far greater than that. He was able to preach the gospel to the imperial guard.
What was the result? At the end of Philippians, Paul says:
All the saints salute you, especially they that are of Caesar’s household.
Through Paul’s witness to one guard after another, the gospel penetrated into the very heart of the Roman Empire. Paul could never have planned this. If he had simply walked through the streets of Rome, how could he have brought the gospel into Caesar’s household?
Therefore Paul could say, “My circumstances have turned out for the greater progress of the gospel.” Even Paul’s captivity became very good for the gospel.
We might imagine that, if Paul had gone to Rome without chains, he could have rented a great arena and conducted mass evangelism. Yet God’s way is always higher than ours. We can do nothing but worship the ways of God.
After two years in Rome, according to the biblical record and also according to tradition, Paul was released from his Roman imprisonment. He was free again.
From the pastoral epistles, we know that Paul travelled after his release. Bible students therefore speak of Paul’s fourth missionary journey. He most likely visited Ephesus, Crete, Troas, Corinth, Philippi, and other places. Clement of Rome indicates that Paul may even have gone to Spain.
Paul had previously told the Ephesian elders:
And now, behold, I know that ye all, among whom I went about preaching the kingdom, shall see my face no more.
The elders were grieved, especially over the word that they would see his face no more. They accompanied him to the ship, and they prayed for him. It was a very sad farewell.
Yet Paul later returned to Ephesus. I wonder how he felt. Did he feel a little embarrassed? Sometimes people hold a farewell gathering, say goodbye to everyone, and then return the next year to say, “I am not leaving after all. I will be with you again.”
But this experience teaches us something important: it is an experience of death and resurrection. Paul had expected one thing, but the Lord gave him another.
I told you about my cataract surgery. When I look back, I thank the Lord. If you ask me whether I had fear, I must say yes, because I did not know what would happen. I did not know my future.
But when I regained my eyesight, I had to say, “This is the Lord.” He used the hands of doctors, but I still believe that He preserved my two eyes that I might be used by Him.
After that, I consecrated myself to the Lord again. I said, “Lord, from now on, these eyes are for You, because they belong to You.”
Sometimes we pass through something that feels like death. We go through the shadow of death, even the valley of the shadow of death. Yet, by the grace of the Lord, we come out. This is the experience of death and resurrection.
Now we come to another lesson. When Paul wrote the prison epistles, he was limited in his movements. He could not travel far. The dimensions of his outward world were very restricted.
Yet, from that small prison, he wrote one letter after another. When we read those letters, we discover another dimension of life—a dimension very different from the limitations of his physical circumstances.
Theological students love Romans and Galatians. In Romans, Paul begins with human need on earth, and by Romans 8 he brings us from earth to heaven, from man to God.
But when you come to Ephesians, you find something different. From the very beginning we read:
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath blessed us with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places in Christ.
In Ephesians 2, Paul speaks of being seated with Christ in the heavenly places. In Ephesians 6, he speaks of spiritual warfare in the heavenly places. Though Paul was confined in a small cell, his vision had been expanded. He saw things from the heavenly point of view.
When you study Ephesians, everything is heavenly. The church is not merely local; it is universal. In 1 Corinthians, when Paul says, “Ye are the body of Christ,” he is referring to the local church in that city. But in Ephesians, the church as the body of Christ has a universal and heavenly character.
Paul’s outward world had become smaller, but inwardly and spiritually his view had expanded from the global to the universal, even to the cosmic. Though he was in a small Roman cell, he possessed heaven.
Samuel Rutherford called his prison “the palace of Christ at Aberdeen.” This is wonderful. Paul, too, was limited in a small cell, yet his writings are full of heavenly reality.
In Colossians, Paul speaks of heavenly life:
If then ye were raised together with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated on the right hand of God.
Set your mind on the things that are above, not on the things that are upon the earth.
For ye died, and your life is hid with Christ in God.
This does not mean that we cease to live on earth. Paul immediately speaks of the members of our earthly body. We are still on earth, yet our life is hidden with Christ in God. We learn to live a heavenly life while still walking upon the earth.
Philippians also gives us this heavenly perspective. Paul presses toward the goal for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus. Everything is directed toward heaven.
This reminds us of the Song of Solomon. It portrays union and communion between the Lord and His people. In the central portion, Solomon appears as king, and the Shulamite is called “My sister, My bride.” They are not separated. It speaks of a heavenly place of communion.
This, then, is another lesson in Paul’s life: the experience of a heavenly life.
Finally, we come to one of the most difficult lessons Paul learned: the life of being poured out.
Philippians 2:17 says:
Yea, and if I am offered upon the sacrifice and service of your faith, I joy, and rejoice with you all.
Paul considered his work an offering to the Lord. Sometimes a worker may regard his work as his own enjoyment or achievement. But Paul offered his work to the Lord as a sacrifice. He says that he was being poured out as a drink offering upon the sacrifice and service of the Philippians’ faith.
Then, in 2 Timothy 4:6, he says:
For I am already being offered, and the time of my departure is come.
In both passages we have the drink offering. This was a wine offering associated with other sacrifices in the Old Testament. The wine was poured out. It speaks of a life being poured out.
This is the result of a deeper work of the cross within us. Philippians 3:10 says:
That I may know Him, and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, becoming conformed unto His death.
Paul wrote this about six years after he had written in Galatians, “I have been crucified with Christ.” Even after those years, he still spoke about being conformed to Christ’s death. This indicates something deeper.
To be conformed to His death means to take on the pattern or form of His death. It is not merely that we have been crucified with Christ; we are being shaped according to the pattern of His death.
John 12 gives us a clear picture:
Jesus answered them, saying, The hour is come, that the Son of man should be glorified.
Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a grain of wheat fall into the earth and die, it abideth by itself alone; but if it die, it beareth much fruit.
If any man serve Me, let him follow Me; and where I am, there shall also My servant be.
Here we discover a pattern of death that is for harvest. Our Lord was like a grain of wheat falling into the earth and dying, so that He might bear much fruit. If we want to serve Him, we must follow Him. Where He is, there His servant also must be.
Why must the grain of wheat fall into the earth? So that the life within it may be released. In the same way, if we follow the Lord, we too must be willing for our life to be poured out.
Our service is not only offering our work to God. It is serving people with the life of Christ. A life being poured out becomes fruitful. The issue here is self. The cross works upon self in two directions.
First, there is a reducing process. In 1 and 2 Timothy, Paul begins with the greeting, “Grace, mercy, peace.” Earlier in his epistles he usually wrote, “Grace and peace.” But in these final letters he adds the word “mercy.”
Why? Grace is given to one who does not deserve it. Mercy is shown to one who is in misery. As Paul learned deeper lessons before the Lord, he increasingly realized his own unworthiness.
At the end of the second stage, Paul said, “I am the least of the apostles.” Six years later, he said he was “less than the least of all saints.” Then, some years later, he said:
Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners; of whom I am chief.
He did not say, “Of whom I was chief.” In the Greek, it is present: “I am chief.” Through the work of the cross, Paul was reduced from being the least of the apostles to being the chief of sinners in his own estimation.
The second direction is a stripping process. When Paul wrote his final epistle, 2 Timothy, he had again been placed in prison. But it was very different from his first Roman imprisonment.
This time he was imprisoned as a criminal. It was after the great fire in Rome, when Christians were treated as criminals. He was placed in a dungeon, perhaps in a terrible place where many prisoners died.
This time Paul was extremely lonely. Many old friends were away from him. Priscilla and Aquila were probably in Ephesus. Demas, who had been with Paul in the first captivity, had forsaken him. Paul said:
All that are in Asia turned away from me.
He also said:
At my first defence no one took my part, but all forsook me: may it not be laid to their account.
But the Lord stood by me, and strengthened me.
Here we see the stripping hand of the Lord. Why? Because Paul was about to be called home. He had to have less and less of himself. Gradually, the Lord was weaning him from the world and from friends.
That is why Paul wrote to Timothy, “Give diligence to come shortly unto me. Only Luke is with me. Take Mark, and bring him with thee.” Formerly Paul had not wanted to take Mark, but now, at this moment, he remembered him.
Paul also said, “When thou comest, bring the cloak which I left at Troas with Carpus, and the books, especially the parchments.” He was cold in the dungeon. He was lonely. Here we see the stripping hand of the Lord.
This week we have sung a hymn connected with Brother Watchman Nee. It was written during a period of great suffering. His wife wrote that he had passed through an experience similar to hell.
Brother Nee had a great vision with his co-workers: they wanted to evangelize the whole of China within a few years. Yet it seemed that the Lord was tearing down what he had built. Fewer and fewer people understood him. Some who had served faithfully lost their first love. Tears filled his eyes.
Yet his prayer was:
Make me to decrease, that Thou mayest increase.
This is a wonderful prayer. In the stripping process, the most precious prayer is, “Make me to decrease, that Thou mayest increase.” Then His will becomes sweeter than before.
The hymn says:
Thou allowest others to have lives of ease;
Thou permittest men to ride over my head;
Thou art stripping away all that I have.
Remove not Thy stripping hand from me, I pray.
That is wonderful. He says to the Lord, “You are stripping away all that I have, but the one thing I ask is this: do not remove Your stripping hand.” This is someone who truly knows the work of the cross.
Lastly, I would like to tell you a true story, and then we will conclude. This stripping process is for something positive, not something negative. It is for harvest. It produces a life that is poured out.
One day Brother Nee was with some brothers and sisters. He brought a sheet of paper containing an excerpt and said to them, “Do you know how heavy this is? It is as heavy as gold.”
It was a poem about wine: how wine passes through different processes, including the winepress, until it is poured out. Brother Nee treasured it greatly. The author was Hamilton, and for forty years I tried to find the complete poem but was unsuccessful. I have only the final verse.
The last verse says:
Measure thy life by loss instead of gain,
Not by the wine drunk, but by the wine poured;
For love’s strength standeth in love’s sacrifice,
And he who suffers most has most to give.
I think that is a correct description of Paul’s life.
Dear Lord, we thank You for giving us Your Word. We pray that You will continue Your work within us. May Your Word sink deeply into our hearts and grow to satisfy Your heart.
We thank You for such a wonderful occasion that we may be at Your feet. Thank You, Lord. In the name of our Lord Jesus, we pray. Amen.