The way of imagination

       “…my beloved brothers, my joy and crown…take care of those women who struggled with me in the gospel…” (Phil. 4.1, 3).   We have already examined the tension in Paul’s letter to the Philippians between his frustration at being constrained by his imprisonment, on the one hand, and his detachment and joyful “resignation” to the will of God regarding his fate, on the other.   There is another paradox in this letter – on the one hand, Paul seems to be full of joy and exhorts his readers to “Rejoice…always!” (4.4); on the other hand, Paul acknowledges that the Christians of Philippi are engaged in a struggle against those who would silence them (1.27-30).   The French have an expression – “la joie de combat”; i.e. the joy of the battle.   There is indeed much joy to be had in struggling for a common cause together with likeminded people (cf. 4.14-16).   Hence Paul’s repeated request for the Philippians to be “of one mind” (4.2; cf. 1.27; 2....

       “I deem everything to be a loss on account of the excellence…of knowing Christ, and the power of his resurrection, and communion in his sufferings…not that I have already been perfected, but…I press onward to the mark, for the prize of God’s call upward in Christ Jesus” (3.8, 10, 12, 14).   Paul made it his life’s goal to “become like Jesus”.   In Philippians 2, Paul shared the hymn which described Jesus’ self-emptying and humiliation through his incarnation and death on the cross (2.6-11).   In chapter 3, as he warns the Christians of Philippi against Judaizers (who insisted that circumcision was necessary in order to become a Christian), Paul describes the “confidence in the flesh” that he had previously as a Pharisee (3.4-6).   Paul tells the Philippians that he has gone through an emptying process similar to that of Jesus – indeed, he “has lost all things on Christ’s account” (3.8).   Moreover, he considers all the things that...

       Josh Nadeau’s Room for Good Things to Run Wild (2024) is a long-awaited breath of fresh air…and hope.   Having grown up with a legalistic approach to holiness which largely consisted in external conformity to rules most of which, as it turns out, aren’t “biblical”, I haven’t really known how to think about holiness for a long time.   As a kid/teenager, it was No smoking, No drinking, No TV, No video games, No books of fantasy, No Disney movies, No sex before marriage, No “work” on Saturdays (i.e. the Sabbath), No missing Sunday morning church services, No…nothing (or so it seemed).   Though I did take up moderate social consumption of alcohol as a young adult, and though I am now an unashamed cinephile and lover of fantasy literature, I have never indulged in the typical “vices” of “the world”.   But does that make me a holy person?   Surely being a “saint” is more than the simple avoidance of certain forbidden activities?  ...