The Christian's Glorious Predicament
Introduction: A World Terrified of Endings
Our modern world is in a flat panic about death. We do not know what to do with it. We hide it away in sterile hospitals, we cover it over with euphemisms, and we distract ourselves from its inevitability with an endless barrage of entertainment and trivialities. The secular man tries to build his entire house of meaning on the sand of this life alone. He must cram all his significance, all his joy, and all his purpose into a handful of decades, and so he lives in a state of quiet desperation, terrified of the day when the lease runs out and the landlord evicts him. For the unbeliever, death is the ultimate loss, the final defeat, the great cosmic joke at his expense. It is the final, unanswerable proof that his life, in the end, signified nothing.
Into this fearful, whistling-past-the-graveyard culture, the Apostle Paul speaks a word of glorious, rugged, and almost unbelievable sanity. Writing from a Roman prison, with a potential death sentence hanging over his head, he does not sound like a man in a panic. He sounds like a man who is trying to decide between two fantastic vacation spots. He is not afraid of death; he has to be persuaded to stick around and live. This is not the talk of a stoic, gritting his teeth and accepting his fate. This is not the escapism of a man who hates the world. This is the robust, joyful, and utterly logical conclusion of a man whose entire reality has been redefined by the resurrected Christ.
What Paul gives us in this passage is the fundamental calculus of the Christian life. It is the operating system that should be running in the heart of every believer. If you get this right, everything else begins to fall into its proper place. If you get this wrong, your Christian life will be marked by anxiety, a lack of fruit, and a subtle fear of the very one who has conquered death on your behalf. Paul's predicament here is a glorious one, and by God's grace, it ought to be our predicament as well.
The Text
For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. But if I am to live on in the flesh, this will mean fruitful labor for me; and I do not know what I will choose. But I am hard-pressed between the two, having the desire to depart and be with Christ, for that is very much better, yet to remain on in the flesh is more necessary for your sake. And convinced of this, I know that I will remain and continue with you all for your progress and joy in the faith, so that your reason for boasting may abound in Christ Jesus in me, through my coming to you again.
(Philippians 1:21-26 LSB)
The Central Axiom of the Christian Life (v. 21)
Paul begins with the foundational statement, the axiom upon which his entire life is built.
"For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain." (Philippians 1:21 LSB)
This is one of the most compressed and potent statements in all of Scripture. It is a declaration of total worldview warfare. "For to me," Paul says. He is not speaking for Caesar, or for the philosophers in Athens, or for the man on the street. He is drawing a line. For the world, to live is wealth, or pleasure, or power, or reputation. For the modern man, to live is self-expression, or comfort, or accumulating experiences. But for Paul, and for every true Christian, there is only one definition. "To live is Christ."
What does this mean? It means that Christ is not a component of his life. He is not a department, like "religion" or "spirituality," that he visits on the weekends. Christ is the source of his life, the substance of his life, the goal of his life, and the meaning of his life. Every breath, every thought, every action is defined by, oriented toward, and empowered by Jesus Christ. Christ is the verb of his existence. To live is simply to express Christ in this mortal frame.
And because the first half of the verse is true, the second half follows with irrefutable logic. If to live is Christ, then "to die is gain." How can this be? Because death, for the believer, is not the cessation of life. It is the consummation of it. It is not a loss, but a promotion. It is not an end, but a transition into a fuller, more immediate, and unfiltered experience of the very thing that gave life meaning in the first place: Christ Himself. If life is Christ, then death is more Christ. It is gain. It is profit. It is like an investment that matures to an infinite return. To die is to cash in.
A Glorious Dilemma (v. 22-23)
This central axiom creates a genuine dilemma for Paul, but it is a dilemma that any sane person would long to have.
"But if I am to live on in the flesh, this will mean fruitful labor for me; and I do not know what I will choose. But I am hard-pressed between the two, having the desire to depart and be with Christ, for that is very much better," (Philippians 1:22-23 LSB)
Notice the two options Paul is weighing. Option A is "fruitful labor." Option B is "to depart and be with Christ." His choice is not between a good thing and a bad thing. It is not between living for God and giving up. It is a choice between two profoundly good things. To remain in the body is not just to keep breathing; it is to engage in productive, meaningful, kingdom-advancing work. Work is not a curse; it was given to man before the fall. And redeemed work, "fruitful labor," is a glorious calling.
But then he evaluates the other option. To depart and be with Christ is "very much better." The Greek is emphatic. It is better by far. This is not a slight preference. It is an overwhelming, settled conviction. Paul is not engaging in a death wish. He is not depressed. He is simply a man who has done the math. He has had a glimpse of the resurrected glory of Christ on the Damascus road, and he knows that immediate, unhindered fellowship with Jesus is the ultimate prize. Heaven is not a consolation prize for a life that is over. It is the main event.
This is the proper Christian orientation. We are to be so heavenly-minded that we are of immense earthly good. It is the man who most desires heaven who will work most diligently on earth. Why? Because he is not clinging desperately to this life. He is free. He can take risks for the gospel. He can pour himself out in service. He is not trying to protect his little kingdom here, because he knows he is an heir to a far greater one. The man who fears death will be a timid and unfruitful servant. The man who sees death as gain will be a lion.
Love as the Deciding Factor (v. 24-25)
So what breaks the tie? What resolves this glorious predicament? It is not his own personal preference, but his covenantal love for the church.
"yet to remain on in the flesh is more necessary for your sake. And convinced of this, I know that I will remain and continue with you all for your progress and joy in the faith," (Philippians 1:24-25 LSB)
This is the heart of a true shepherd. His personal desire, which is to be with Christ, is subordinated to the needs of his flock. He says it is "more necessary" for him to remain for their sake. This is the logic of the incarnation. Christ did not remain in the glories of heaven but came for our sake. This is the logic of the cross. Christ did not save Himself but gave Himself for our sake. And this is the logic of Christian love. We do not live for ourselves, but for the good of our brothers and sisters.
And what is the goal of his remaining? It is for their "progress and joy in the faith." This is a magnificent vision for pastoral ministry and for all Christian fellowship. The goal is not just to maintain the status quo. It is not to keep everyone safe and comfortable. It is for progress, for advancement, for moving forward into maturity. And it is for joy. A joyless Christian is a contradiction in terms, a poor advertisement for the kingdom. Paul's labor is aimed at building a robust, advancing, and deeply joyful church. He will gladly postpone his entrance into glory if it means he can help the Philippians make progress in their joy.
Boasting in the Right Place (v. 26)
Finally, Paul states the ultimate purpose of his continued ministry among them.
"so that your reason for boasting may abound in Christ Jesus in me, through my coming to you again." (Philippians 1:26 LSB)
This is a carefully worded phrase. He wants their reason for boasting, their exultation, to "abound." But where is that boasting to be directed? It is to be "in Christ Jesus." Paul himself is the occasion for this boasting. His presence, his teaching, his example, his deliverance from prison, all of it is designed to be a lens that focuses their attention and their praise onto Christ. They are not to boast in Paul, the great apostle. They are to see Paul as an instrument, a trophy of grace, and as a result, boast all the more in the Christ who works in and through him.
This is the goal of all fruitful labor. It is to decrease so that He might increase. It is to live our lives in such a way that when people look at us, they are not ultimately impressed with us, but are moved to give glory and praise to our Master. Our lives are to be arguments for the goodness and power of Jesus Christ.
Conclusion: A Win-Win Proposition
So where does this leave us? This passage confronts us with a fundamental question: What is your life's definition? Is it, "For to me, to live is Christ"? If it is anything else, then death will always be a loss, a terror, a final defeat. But if, by the grace of God, Christ is the center and circumference of your existence, then you are in the most glorious win-win situation imaginable.
If God grants you another day to live, it is a gift. It is an opportunity for fruitful labor, for service, for growing in grace, and for helping others in their progress and joy. Every day is a chance to build the kingdom, to love your family, to serve your church, and to glorify God in your work. Life is a glorious opportunity.
And if God, in His sovereign wisdom, calls you home today, it is gain. It is a promotion. It is graduation. It is to depart from the world of shadows and enter into the immediate presence of the one your soul loves, which is very much better. Death has lost its sting. The grave has lost its victory. It has been transformed from an executioner into a servant who simply opens the door to the throne room.
This is the freedom of the Christian man. He is free from the fear of death, and therefore he is free to truly live. He can face persecution, sickness, financial hardship, and political turmoil with a settled peace, knowing that the worst thing his enemies can do to him is send him to glory a little sooner than he expected. This is the robust faith that turned the world upside down once, and it is the only kind of faith that will do it again.
So I ask you, what is your predicament? Is it the world's fearful predicament, trying to squeeze meaning out of a dying world? Or is it Paul's glorious predicament, caught between the joy of fruitful labor for Christ and the far greater joy of being with Him forever? By God's grace, may we all be so hard-pressed.