August 27, 2008

“Only let your conduct be worthy of the gospel of Christ, so that whether I come and see you or am absent, I may hear of your affairs, that you stand fast in one spirit, with one mind striving together for the faith of the gospel, and not in any way terrified by your adversaries, which is to them a proof of perdition, but to you of salvation, and that from God. For to you it has been granted on behalf of Christ, not only to believe in Him, but also to suffer for His sake, having the same conflict which you saw in me and now hear is in me.”

—Philippians 1:27-29

The Apostle Paul’s letter to the Philippian Christians is one of the most profound ironies not only in the Bible, but in the whole history of the human soul.  Held fast in a Roman prison, uncertain if he would ever get out alive, Paul penned this letter saturated with peace and joy.  He urged his friends not to be afraid of the very real enemies that they faced.  Even though persecution and suffering had already come upon the Philippians and could be expected to get worse, they were to rejoice!  Why?  Because just as their faith in Christ had been granted to them as a gift from God, so also their suffering was a gift.  Their choice to receive it from God’s hand, without fear, was a sign that all opposition to them would fail—but that they themselves would be saved.

Christians who lived (like these Philippians) in the first century after Christ could expect to receive severe and very visible persecution for their profession of faith.  Many were actually put to death, following in their Lord’s footsteps as they went to execution.  The deacon Stephen was stoned to death by enraged Jews in Jerusalem ; James, John’s brother, was killed with the sword; and according to ancient Christian tradition, all of the Twelve Apostles except John were eventually martyred for their confessed faith in Christ.  The early Church produced too many martyrs to count—men, women, and children who were faithful to the point of death (cf. Revelation 2:10).  Alongside these believers who died for their faith, there were many more who were imprisoned, forced out of their homes and livelihoods, and subjected to other kinds of hardships.

Throughout history, there have been many places and times in which Christians have been forced to suffer just like our first-century forefathers.  But there have also been times and places where Christians live in relative peace.  We Christians of North America who live in the twenty-first century have a life of astonishing ease and comfort, in comparison with many of those who went before us.  How should we respond when we read words like Paul’s exhortation to the Philippians quoted above?  What should we do when we hear the even more striking words, “All who desire to live godly in Christ Jesus will suffer persecution” (2 Timothy 3:12)?  Here Paul is making it sound as though every godly Christian is a suffering Christian!  And how are we to react to the Apostle Peter’s words in 1 Peter 4:1, “Since Christ suffered for us in the flesh, arm yourselves also with the same mind, for he who has suffered in the flesh has ceased from sin”?  Here it sounds as if we are to positively choose suffering and seek it out—that suffering is the preferred way for us both to imitate Christ’s example and to be free from sin.

The words of Scripture are true, of course.  However, even though suffering for Christ’s sake is a common experience to godly Christians of all times and places, the appearance of that suffering can be very different.  We may consider the history of just one country, Egypt , as an illustration of the great range of persecutions that Christians have suffered over time.  John Mark—the writer of the “Gospel according to Mark” and the first Christian bishop of Alexandria —suffered a martyr’s death when worshipers of the old Egyptian gods had him dragged behind horses through the streets of the city.  Three centuries later, Mark’s successor Athanasius the Great suffered a lesser but still very real persecution, being exiled five times from Alexandria because he affirmed the deity of Christ against the n heretics.  Samuel the Confessor, an Egyptian Christian who lived in the seventh century, was tortured for his faith both by agents of the Byzantine emperor and by sun-worshiping Berbers.  In recent years, some  Coptic Christians living in Islamic Egypt have suffered exile from their homes like Athanasius, physical abuse like Samuel, and in a few cases, even death like Mark.  Yet for the most part they have experienced less obvious kinds of persecution: being denied a job because they are Christians, or being subjected to the spite and ridicule of others who think they are inferior.  All of these kinds of suffering, from simple annoyance and harassment up to and including martyrdom, are joined together as a testimony to the perseverance and faith of the Church in Egypt throughout history.

We must never deny the importance of those Christian heroes who are called to give up their lives, or at least suffer physical torture, for the sake of the Gospel.  And yet the experience of suffering that most of us face as Christians in the West is closer to that of our modern Egyptian brothers than to what the ancient ones experienced.  Very few of us are called to lay down our lives or go into exile for the Gospel; many more are called to lose respect or social status, or perhaps a job opportunity with its accompanying income, if we resist compromising our faith.

For any Christian reading this paper, the questions to be asked are simple.  Do you ever experience some kind of suffering—ridicule, exclusion from social circles, verbal abuse, loss of opportunity, or other hard circumstances—because of your faithfulness in living as a follower of Christ?  If so, how ought you to respond to it?  If not, why not?  The Bible does not teach that persecution and suffering will be constant for Christians, nor does it tell us some arbitrary level to which a person must be persecuted before he can be regarded as truly godly.  But if you never experience suffering of any kind for your faith, is your obedience to God really as consistent as it ought to be?  Are you compromising with worldliness in your actions, speech, or even thoughts (which shape the rest of a person) and so avoiding persecution because you’re really not so different from the non-believers around you?  Or are you hiding the fact that you’re a Christian, trying to “fly under the radar” rather than face the responsibility of living as a servant of God in the middle of an ungodly workplace, extended family, or social network?

While the questions to be asked are simple and hard-hitting, the choices to be made are not always clear-cut.  I once went into a job interview carrying a book with a cross symbol prominently displayed on the cover; it was a copy of St. Augustine ’s Confessions that I had brought to read while waiting for the interview to start. The interviewer noticed the book and felt called upon to give me a warning: I would be free to read these kinds of books and practice my faith however I wanted to on my own time, but I ought not to bring these things directly into my work or be pushy about them with customers. Christians who face situations like this one need to respond, like Daniel, with wisdom and tact (Daniel 2:14).  Employers, relatives, and others who set limitations on our visible practice of our faith may simply be trying to preserve external harmony between us and them.  Employers are concerned that we not become deadbeat employees who abuse work hours to advance our own “spiritual” purposes.  Likewise, family members who do not share our faith in Christ may prefer to stay away from arguments over religion.  We need to find ways to honor their sincere concerns, make a good-faith effort to avoid unprofitable talk and actions in the name of Christ, and still maintain a Christian testimony that is both peaceable and courageous.  In other words, if we do eventually find ourselves suffering for what we do and say, that suffering had better be for the right reasons.

The Apostle Peter warns that not all of the suffering of Christians is worthy of praise.  Christians may suffer for all the things that people of the world suffer for (murder, theft, unethical actions, meddling in other people’s business) and be worse off after their suffering, not better (1 Peter 4:15).  On the other hand, if you are truly suffering for the sake of righteousness, several other factors must be in place. First, you have sanctified the Lord God in your heart, that is, acknowledged Him as holy and devoted yourself to Him.  Second, you are ready to answer those who ask you about the source of your hope.  (It’s true that Paul predicted persecution for the godly, but this is the other side of the same coin.  If you never experience suffering, you have reason to ask whether you are truly living for God as you ought.  But you should be asking that same question if you find that you are not filled with an inner hope, one that makes even pagans take notice.)  Last but not least—in fact, Peter places this point first—if you are really suffering for righteousness, you are blessed for what you suffer. (1 Peter 3:14-15)  If your suffering is for doing wrong, there is no blessing from God in it; but if it is truly for the sake of righteousness, you will know that God is with you and will vindicate you—even if you do not see this triumphant result for a long time.

Now at last we return to the second of the puzzling exhortations about suffering that we considered earlier.  This one also comes from Peter: “Therefore, since Christ suffered for us in the flesh, arm yourselves also with the same mind, for he who has suffered in the flesh has ceased from sin” (1 Peter 4:1).  We have seen that suffering comes in many different forms, but in one way or another should be expected by every godly Christian.  Well, then, a choice to be godly is a choice to suffer; and a choice to suffer for godliness is a choice for what should be every Christian’s greatest desire: to follow in the footsteps of the Lord Jesus.  If you set your mind to be godly, you are also placing yourself on the path of suffering.  But rejoice!  When in this way you choose to suffer for the sake of Christ, you are also putting the greatest distance possible between yourself and sin.  Once you are so devoted to righteousness that you suffer for it, what place does the negation of righteousness have any more in your life?  And once your mind is set on godliness and your body is imprinted with righteous suffering, you can know for certain that God is at work in you to conform you into the image of His Son.