Chad Bird

"Work out your salvation with fear and trembling." These words from Paul often confuse people. What is the apostle getting at?

Let’s first get the context from Philippians 2:12-13 and add the Greek verbs: “Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, so now, not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, work out [κατεργάζομαι] your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works [ἐνεργέω] in you, both to will and to work [ἐνεργέω] for his good pleasure.” Even in English, we can see how the theme of “work” is reflected in the two Greek verbs, both from the root idea of εργον (“work”; we get our word ergonomics from this).

Second, keep in mind something that is not apparent in translation: that when Paul writes “work out your own salvation,” he is using the 2nd person plural (y’all). He is writing to the church in Philippi, not an individual believer. Contextually, he is telling the “y’all” of the church to obey in his absence, work out their salvation, do everything without grumbling, etc. (2:14ff).

Third, in the same verse in which Paul tells the church to “work out their salvation,” he reminds them that this “working” is really the work of God, for he creates both the will to act and the actual work itself so that he might be pleased with the result. As he says, “It is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure.”

In short, Paul is telling the church: be who you already are in Christ. The Father has given salvation to y’all fully and freely in Jesus. He has made you the church, the body of Christ. Now, be the church, be the saved, be those who obey the apostle. And remember, this matter is of the ultimate seriousness, for it pertains to God himself, so do this “with fear and trembling.” And remember, lest you become prideful, that when y’all do act like the saved, that it is not you but the grace of God that brings this about, for “it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure.”

To “work out your own salvation,” therefore, is to be the church, live as the church, work as the church, in which the full and free salvation of Jesus is doing its work.
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We read Philippians 2 today in Bible in One Year. https://www.1517.org/oneyear

In the ancient world, including the Roman Empire, people were quite comfortable with the idea that gods occasionally visited earth. Stories circulated about Zeus or Hermes appearing in disguise or taking on some visible form (see Acts 14:11). But in every one of those stories, the appearance was temporary and never humble.

No god became a slave. No god embraced suffering. And absolutely none submitted to a shameful death on a Roman cross.

That category simply did not exist. It was unthinkable.

So when Paul writes in Philippians 2 that Jesus was “in the form of God,” yet emptied himself, took “the form of a servant,” and became obedient “to the point of death, even death on a cross,” he is proclaiming something that turned the Roman imagination upside down.

Everything about the way of Jesus cut against the grain of how the world defined greatness.

In Paul’s day, as in ours, glory was about climbing higher, grasping for power, protecting your honor, and making a name for yourself. Humility was not admired. It was a weakness. The humble man was seen as a nobody.

But Jesus reveals an entirely different kingdom.

The Son of God goes downward before upward. He stoops. He serves. He washes feet. He suffers. He dies. The way up is the way down.

And Paul says this is not only the story of Jesus. It is now our story too. “Have this mind among yourselves,” he says.

Christ did not merely model humility from a distance. He united us to himself so that his life becomes our life. Through his obedience, death, and resurrection, we are joined to him as members of his body.

And because of that obedience, the Father highly exalted him and gave him “the name above every name,” that is, Yahweh. One day, every knee will bow in heaven, on earth, and under the earth, and every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is LORD.

For those who trust in him, that Day will not be terror but joy.

The crucified and risen Christ will raise us also, make our bodies like his glorious body, and welcome us forever into the radiant love of the Father.
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We read Philippians 2 today in Bible in One Year. Join us at any time! https://www.1517.org/oneyear

There are moments in life that are forever branded in our memory. When my wife’s doctor phoned with the diagnosis of uterine cancer. When Navy officers knocked on my front door with the news that my son had fallen to his death. It may be the height of summer, but such news plunges us into the dark, cold, heartless thrall of winter.

What do you do then? Specifically, as a Christian, what do you do? You want and need God to do something, but forming words into sentences, and sentences into prayers, is well-nigh impossible. You’re drowning. You’re beaten up and beaten down. What kind of prayer could you possibly pray in life’s ugliest and worst of times?

The best of prayers, that’s what.

Prayers like: Lord, have mercy. Remember me. Help me. Jesus, I trust you.

The best prayers are those we shout in pain, whisper in grief, or choke out on the brink of despair. Every word exudes honesty, need, and the kind of desperation that says: Jesus, I am nothing without you.

The worst of times produce the best of prayers. Scripture is full of examples of God’s people coming to the end of themselves, crying out in simple, desperate prayers, and being met by our Father of mercy and grace. He hears us not because our prayers are polished, but because Jesus was crushed for our sins, his hands were nailed to the cross, and he cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

What you will find in the pages of Bold Before His Throne, by Rance Settle, are real stories of real people with real problems. Their stories remind us that prayer is simply a heart turned toward God, pouring out words of need to a Father who could not love us more deeply than he already does.

I highly recommend this book. It was a joy to read and an honor to write the Foreword: https://a.co/d/00JoaUEK

"Kissing the bride through the veil." That's how one of my professors at Hebrew Union College vividly described reading the Bible in translation. A kiss is a kiss, to be sure, but skin on skin is always preferable.

That's why anytime we can "kiss" the Hebrew, Aramaic, or Greek of the original text, well, pucker up. Often, the original has connotations that are difficult, if not impossible, to get across fully in translation.

One of the verses we read today in Bible in One Year is like that: “Only let your manner of life be worthy of the gospel of Christ…” (Philippians 1:27).

That translation is accurate, but it can come across in English as if Paul were merely saying, “Behave yourselves,” or “Try to live a decent life.”

But the Greek word Paul uses carries far more cultural and political weight than “conduct yourselves” or “let your manner of life.”

The verb is πολιτεύομαι (politeuomai). If you have a hunch, based on the "polit-" beginning, that it has something to do with politics or political life, you're not wrong.

πολιτεύομαι is the language of citizenship, public identity, civic loyalty, and belonging to a kingdom. A more literal rendering would sound something like this: “Live as citizens worthy of the gospel of Christ.”

That matters enormously because Paul is writing to the church in Philippi, a city nicknamed “little Rome.” Roman citizenship was treasured. It was a badge of pride and allegiance. Your citizenship shaped how you understood your place in the world.

The townspeople would πολιτεύομαι in this way: “living as citizens worthy of Rome.”

Paul takes that familiar civic language and turns it upside down.

In essence, he says, “Yes, you live in a Roman colony. But Rome is not your true homeland.” As he says later in the letter, “Our citizenship is in heaven” (Phil. 3:20).

That does not mean Christians abandon earthly responsibilities. It means that beneath every earthly identity is a more fundamental one. We belong first to the kingdom of God, to Christ our King.

Paul’s point in Philippians 1:27 is not simply behavioral: “Be good people.”

It is: “Live like the citizens of heaven that you already are by virtue of Christ your King.”