Meditation Son Philippians 3

Finally, my brethren, rejoice in the Lord." There are two words in this opening to which I wish to call your attention. One is the word "finally," and the other is " Lord." The apostle at the time of writing them, was in the hands of the Roman emperor, a prisoner for the cause of the gospel. Looking back over his course he might recall countless hardships that he had suffered, perils on land and sea, poverty, hunger, thirst, imprisonment and beating. He had met with opposition also in the Church as well as outside. Those who should have been helpers, had forsaken him. Some preached Christ of envy and strife. Past, present, and future, except to the eye of faith, were as gloomy as possible, and yet he says, after all these things," rejoice; " and not, mark you, "rejoice in the Saviour," but "rejoice in the Lord."

Let me emphasize the difference a little; for the use of the latter title on this occasion is indeed much sweeter. It would be no great wonder for one in such circumstances to turn away from them all to rejoice in the Saviour. Surely this would be the soul’s great satisfaction, but it betokens a loftier flight of faith to rejoice in the Lord, One who might have removed the trial, but left it on. Perhaps some reader of this paper has had a hard struggle all his life with poverty; perhaps another has been given up by friend and relative, to lead a lonely life in this vale of sorrows; perhaps another has toiled long and labored hard in the vineyard, to find his toil rewarded but with abuse and scorn, or indifference. To such the undercurrent of Paul’s exhortation may be searching:You know the Christ so well, that, (realizing His power to remove all these things,) you can yet rejoice in the Lord, specifically as Lord, perfect Master of every circumstance. "Though He slay me yet will I trust Him," blessed be God! rejoice in Him too. Such is the cry of those who know Him best.

"The spirit of praise is the spirit of power," and yet at the same time there must be a practical guarding against the enemies we have to meet. Jehoshaphat with his singers in the forefront of the battle had his warriors behind them. So the apostle goes on to say, "Beware of dogs, beware of evil workers, beware of the concision." Like the snapping", snarling animals that rove in packs through the streets of eastern cities, when night settles down, so these enemies swarm round us as we pass through this busy world, and our singing serves but to gather them more thickly to the attack. There is nothing Satan dislikes so much as rejoicing in the Lord, and he will do anything that he can to stop it. If his dogs cannot drown it with their howling, his concision will set up an imitation song to attract the attention away from it.

It has been thought by some, that the dogs, evil workers and concision all refer to one and the same class of people, but then it would seem that in that case the verb would not be repeated after each. It is true, however, that the concision are the class of whom they are in especial danger, as this is emphasized by the context.

It is interesting to notice how there seems to be a trinity of evil to oppose the good. The lust of the eyes, of the flesh, and the pride of life is a common example, while we may notice the three motives suggested to Eve, the three temptations of our Lord; the three kinds of bad ground in the parable of the sower, and in this chapter, the threefold cord opposing. As if to meet this latter trinity, believers are here represented in three ways, worshiping God in the Spirit, exulting in Christ Jesus, and having no confidence in the flesh. They who worship God in spirit and in truth, "for the Father seeketh such to worship Him," they who have found Christ Jesus exult in Him, for did they not, it would be proof they had not found Him; and because they know such an One has had to die for them, they realize how degraded their condition, and, in the "Sinless," their sin, not realized as such till they had seen Him, is really brought to light. No wonder it is then that the apostle tells us, that he had cast aside his own righteousness on account of Christ, and that he counted all things but loss, for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus his Lord.

Let us consider for a little the motive which actuated him. It is literally rendered the "projecting out (beyond all things) of the knowledge of Christ Jesus," and again he adds with lingering emphasis "my Lord." The word which I have translated "projecting out" is the same as is used for "promontory." Did you ever see a promontory? Do you know how it projects out beyond all things? I suppose that those who have seen the North Cape never forget it. It towers up so majestically a thousand feet above the sea. How puny are the waves at its foot! How the eye returns again to dwell upon it! How it absorbs the whole attention! So to the apostle is the person of the Christ. He is his Lord.

He is his Master. He is the One to whom his whole soul goes out in loyal devotion. The "shout of a king "is in his heart, and casting aside as it were his fisher’s coat, impatient of the slow progress of the boat, he steps forth on the deep to meet Him. Let us look for evidence. " For whom I have suffered the loss of all things."

Here we have a practical proof of what he asserts. Sometimes we delude ourselves with the idea that He projects out beyond all things while it is very manifest to those around us, that it is not so. They see us devoting so much time to ourselves, to our personal comfort, that they naturally come to such a conclusion. But then, we console ourselves with the thought that after all this is due to the exigencies of the time, and that our heart is all right. But how about "the projecting out beyond all things." Alas! do not exigencies then do so? Paul let exigencies go. "For whom I have suffered the loss of all things." What a word for us to-day! How salutary! especially if we consider the words which he adds, "And do count them but dung that I may win Christ."

In a certain sense it may be much easier to suffer the loss of all things, than to keep them. Our conscience may demand that we give them up. It may say, "You will be denying the faith if you do not! " and so we may let them go, and then when they are gone cry out, as did God’s people of old, "Would to God we had died by the hand of the Lord in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the flesh pots and we did eat bread to the full." Is that our spirit? Alas! then we never gave up. It was a case of tearing from our reluctant hands, things which we were loath to yield. We saw the angel of the Lord standing with drawn sword across our path and we fled back. How sorrowful for us when we remember that Christ, in all His beauty, stood to welcome us upon the other pathway.

But let us ponder still and ask God to search our hearts:"I do count them but dung" says the apostle. Not much yearning after them there, was there? "I do count them but dung." He does not say, mind you, "I would count them as dung" with a suppressed "if it were necessary." It is necessary for the acquisition of the blessed Object before him. With him there was no desire to keep anything. His eye was single and his one desire was to strip off everything that might incommode him in the race. And so he ran. Beloved! do we so run? Can we repeat the following lines from our hearts?

"Yes, He is mine! and nought of earthly things,
Not all the charms of pleasure, wealth, or power;
The fame of heroes or the pomp of kings,
Could tempt me to forego His love an hour.
Go! worthless world,’ I cry, ‘ with all that’s thine,’
Go! I my Saviour’s am, and He is mine."

Passing over the next verse let us now consider a little that very familiar one:"That I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, being made comfortable unto His death."

The first clause of this verse is worthy of much meditation. Did not the apostle Paul know the Lord? He whose whole soul had been singing with delight, even in the most adverse circumstances? He presses on to know Him. Later on we learn that he stretches forward (as a racer) towards the mark. Did you ever know of anybody doing that, who only had a short distance to run? How strongly then this verse should speak to us. What an unbounded Elysium there is yet to enter upon. We had thought some time, after some glad vision, some close communion, that we had really seen the Lord; but no! it was only a clouded view, a far away prospect, for we realize that our knowledge has come nowhere near that of the apostle, and he still pressed on to know Him. The glorious light on the road to Damascus had been passed. The song in Philippi’s jail had been sung, stormy seas had been crossed, the dead had been raised by that Mighty Name; through sickness, the cohorts of the adversary, hunger, thirst, and beatings he had gone, and still the tireless racer stretches forth towards the goal, the blessed knowing of his Lord and Saviour.

And how about us, brethren? We should press on with greater vigor than the apostle, for we have further to run, but do we? We should look more eagerly for His return, for the night is more advanced, but do we? We might almost see Him coming "skipping upon the hills," but do we, oh! do we? Here is a question well worthy of consideration. How grand to stand for Him, in these days of declension, a faithful and true witness. What a crown of glory we are letting slip from our hands if we do not!

"That I may know Him and the power of His resurrection." Here is an additional clause to consider. Far off on a lonely mountain of Judea in the dark season of night, I see a few frightened disciples fleeing like sheep before a band of men with torches, gathered to take prisoner the Lord of Glory. Ashamed of his cowardice, one of them at last seeks out the palace of the High Priest, and tremblingly warms his hands within. The other night (do we know anything about other nights?) he had been very valiant, with the foe far away, but now all is changed. He is a broken reed shaken with every gust of wind. Once he had heard that Voice, now so meekly answering His enemies, hush the angry tempest on Galilee. He had seen the dead arise from the grave at its bidding. " Lord though all men forsake Thee yet will not I forsake Thee," he had cried, and that same night with oaths and cursing he denies Him. Alas, for human strength and resolution! Alas, for poor man!

A few weeks pass and we see that same frightened flock publishing His blessed name to the whole world. They are no longer fearful, no longer trembling, but with earth and hell against them, they stand undaunted, undismayed, glorying in the name of Jesus. But what had wrought this wondrous change? Why, Christ had risen. Death had yielded up its Prey and they now preached Jesus and the resurrection. What a mighty power it was! but oh brethren, it is one thing to be able to talk about it, and another thing to know its power, to feel it in our lives. What a passport to true blessing and godliness in every thing if we knew more that the One who died on the cross is now, for us, seated at the right hand of the Majesty in the heavens! And it is so, yes, it is so!

" And the fellowship of His sufferings, being made conformable unto His death."

Before speaking of this clause directly, I want to notice a point which although not in exact connection with it, is suggested by it. Until the Lord was taken from them, they knew but little of the fellowship of His sufferings, and the reason is good to think upon. During all the time of the Lord’s presence with them, He was the object of all man’s hatred and malice. They shared but slightly in it. Let me indicate the reason by an illustration. I was burning some sulphur one day in a room with the blind pulled down. It burned with a slightly visible flame. I then happened to let the sunlight in and on looking down thought my sulphur had gone out. On pulling down the blind however, I saw that it was burning as steadily as ever. I experimented several times with the same result. Where the sun shone the sulphur flame could not be seen. And so it was when Christ the blessed Light of the world shone among us, the rays of those lights soon to fill the world were swallowed up in His glory, and men saw them not. Dear brethren, to-day we also can behold His glory, "the glory of the Only-begotten of the Father full of grace and truth," and although 1800 years have passed since then, reading its story we bow our heads, and say from our hearts, "Truly this was the Son of God."

In closing this meditation here, I would ask the reader to join with me in petitioning that our hearts may be so filled by His beauty and glory that truly from our hearts we also may desire some sweet fellowship of His suffering. It is easy to write, it is easy to read, it is easy to be momentarily stirred by emotion, but what we need is that our lives may be wholly dominated and controlled by motives such as Paul’s were that we may bear fruit unto life eternal.

"Blest with this fellowship divine,
Take what Thou wilt I all resign,
While as the branches to the vine,
Saviour, I cling to Thee,

"Blest be my lot whatever befall,
Who can affright or who appal?
While as my God, my Rock, my All,
Saviour, I cling to Thee."

F. C. G.