In this short devotional, I would like to draw some edification out of an apparent contradiction in Scripture. It is only apparent, not truly a contradiction, but there is certainly a difference in emphasis, and wrestling with that is where the edification lies.
Let us begin with Paul’s famous statement in Philippians about how to “live is Christ, and to die is gain.”
“According to my earnest expectation and my hope, that in nothing I shall be ashamed, but that with all boldness, as always, so now also Christ shall be magnified in my body, whether it be by life, or by death. For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. But if I live in the flesh, this is the fruit of my labour: yet what I shall choose I wot not. For I am in a strait betwixt two, having a desire to depart, and to be with Christ; which is far better: Nevertheless to abide in the flesh is more needful for you.”Philippians 1:20–24 (KJV)
And, not to keep you in suspense, let us look at what he says about the near death of Epaphroditus:
“For he longed after you all, and was full of heaviness, because that ye had heard that he had been sick. For indeed he was sick nigh unto death: but God had mercy on him; and not on him only, but on me also, lest I should have sorrow upon sorrow.”Philippians 2:26–27 (KJV)
When Paul was contemplating the prospect of his own death, he was at sixes and sevens. On the one hand, he could depart and be with Christ. On the other hand, he could remain in this life, which would be the “needful” thing for the Philippians. To live is Christ, and to die is more Christ. No wonder he was torn between the two options. But whether he lived or died . . . that was almost all one to him.
Now let’s consider what would have happened if Epaphroditus had died. Notice how the life of Epaphroditus was woven tightly into the concerns of the Philippians. He was the one who was sick but was distressed over the fact that the Philippians had heard that he was sick. He almost died, but notice how Paul states that his deliverance from death was God’s mercy on him, on Epaphroditus. It was not time for him to be promoted to the realm of “more Christ” just yet. And then Paul says that God was not only merciful to Epaphroditus, but He was also merciful to Paul. If Epaphroditus had died, Paul would have experienced “sorrow upon sorrow.” It would have been one layer of sorrow on another.
One atheistic comedian, somewhat cynically, grasped a small portion of this reality. “When you’re dead, you don’t know you’re dead. The pain is felt by others. The same thing happens when you’re stupid.” There is enough truth there to make us laugh, but not enough truth to satisfy the heart.
Like many other issues, this one is resolved by the sovereignty of God, and by this I mean the exhaustive sovereignty of God. Because we have the power of abstraction, we can ask abstract questions. “Which would be better? To be with Christ in glory, or to be down here picking up rocks in the rain? Trying not to grumble about it because I am a Christian?” The answer there is obvious—Heaven is better. But this is a disembodied question.
Which is better, to be in Tarshish, drinking umbrella drinks by the pool, or doing a preaching tour in Nineveh? Well, the former . . . unless you were assigned to the latter.
It was better for Paul to remain here, for the sake of the Philippians and many others. It was better for Epaphroditus to recover, for the sake of the Philippians and for the sake of Paul. We know this because in the sovereignty of God, they both remained. When it was better for them to go, they did so. And they could do so gladly, because they had the abstract question already settled in their hearts, and because the God of all wisdom had called them home.
We tend to ask questions with just two options. Is it better to be rich or poor? Sick or healthy? Alive or dead? When we limit ourselves in this way we run ourselves into problems.
The book of Proverbs teaches us—in multiple places—to handle such questions with four terms instead of two. It is better to be poor and have integrity than to be rich and be a skunk. The presentation of two options this way brings wisdom . . . because there are also two unspoken options. You could also be a poor skunk, and you could be rich and have integrity.
It is better to be alive and obedient than to disobediently seek out death . . . even if that death would usher you into glory. And when you are summoned to go, it is better to go obediently rather than kicking and yelling. And when you don’t know which option it is yet, you should reason with yourself as Paul did. To depart is glory, and to remain is edification. When someone else, like Epaphroditus, doesn’t know what the sovereign God has decided, we pray out of our own heart’s desire, as Paul no doubt did. And God heard him.
And had the decision gone the other way, Paul would have been able to say that to labor down here with Epaphroditus is Christ, and to continue the work without him is also Christ.
As we survey all that is going on around us, we see maybe three to five threads in what God is weaving. We should intercede on the basis of what we see, but we should hold it in an open palm because our knowledge of how much we don’t see. There are billions of other threads.
God answered Hezekiah’s prayer and mercifully extended his life by fifteen years. This was a true mercy to Hezekiah. But during that fifteen years, his heir Mannaseh was conceived, who was one of the most wicked kings Judah ever had. So there’s that. But then we read that Mannaseh repented at the end of life, and we will be together with him in glory. So there is another mercy.
So . . . love one another, trust God, and remember the variables.