482: Durable Joy | Tim Henderson

Introduction

Well, good morning everybody. It's still morning. Just barely. I could be with you guys last week or, well, like eight or nine days ago. I was on my annual—you guys know that I often go every year—I do this big hiking trip. Kelly very graciously allows me to go away with a bunch of friends from my Penn State crew days. This year, we finally, after years of trying, got a camping spot at Yosemite. Who's been to Yosemite? Somebody—you've been to Yosemite a lot more than the first service. Grandeur, right? It's just amazing.

Not only did we get a camping spot in Yosemite, which is hard to do, but we also won the lottery to climb up to the top of Half Dome. And it was just so fun. We go to Half Dome every year, and we always do some grand hike, and there's just a ton of fun. This year, to have Half Dome—you can, can you envision Half Dome in your mind? Like, it's probably the most photographed. It's very distinct—maybe the most photographed rock formation in the world.

To the top of this mountain, and it's a 16-mile out-and-back with a 5,300-foot gain. So, what that means is from the floor of the valley to the top of Half Dome—you know, you're going eight miles up, relentlessly up, and then eight miles down. But when you do it, your vertical is a full mile, and it's a great hike. It's amazing. There's a couple of huge waterfalls. But there were actually kind of terrible parts of the hike because it’s really cut like stone steps into the rock face, and it is just relentlessly up, up, up—never stops.

Then, when you get to what they call the sub-dome—right before the summit—you get to actually climb to the top of the thing. I took a picture here. I don't know if you can tell what you're seeing. It's really hard to capture the scale. But if you can see that black smear up the middle—that's people. Go to the next one, James. And, okay, see? To get to the very top, you go up this—a 600-foot ascent, maybe, up to the last part. And you're already totally blown from the eight miles to get there. And can you tell that there are cables? Can you see? I don’t have—you guys can tell—there's like a little network of wires that are anchored into the rock. And so, as you're going up, what do you do? You hold on to the cables. And if you hold on to the cables, your chances of surviving are pretty good, actually.

But as you approach this thing, you guys, it's just so big, so huge, and so steep. And if you fall in any direction, you're absolutely going to die. So, we went up really early, like 5:30 in the morning, because—oh, this is maybe the most fun—is that that is a one-lane, two-way road. So, while you're going up, people are coming down, and when you're coming down, people are going up. And it's only about 30 inches wide—that's like this. Normally, you're on both cables. But then, when there's people coming, you kind of go to your side, and then your backpacks kind of kiss on the way through. That's a little bit nerve-wracking, but it's glorious. It's amazing, super fun.

We go up, we get to the top, and that was a ton of fun. Then you have to come back down, which is kind of worse in some ways than going up. It's less exhausting but maybe a little more frightening. And on the way down, as I said—the secret to living is that you just don't let go of the cables. And that's fine. But the second secret to staying alive is that the guy above you also has to not let go of the cables. So, as I was going down, there was a guy going up who slipped. And it's like, dude, if somebody slips and grabs your backpack, there's nothing you can do about it.

So, this guy slips. He didn't grab me—that was awesome—but he did get spooked. And so, he decided he was going to turn around and come back down. Totally the right call. The problem was, he was now one dude above me, right? So, now I have this oversized human being with crummy shoes who's afraid. And now my priority isn't just to get down, but to get down fast. Because the last thing we need is that guy to slip again—that'd be terrible. But we made it down. It was amazing. My friend was above him and kind of talked him through it. And we got down. It was incredible.

And the reason I tell you all this is, number one, because it was so awesome. And number two, because this was—and maybe for a lot of people—the trifecta of happiness, right? So, what we're so happy when we are in beautiful places, with people that we love, doing fun things, right? I mean, that's the equation: beautiful places, people you love, doing fun things. But what it did for me, especially as I came to this text, is it really caused me to challenge—I mean, it caused me to question—that very equation. And I wonder for you: how intermittent is your own happiness? Or maybe put it this way: how conditioned is your own happiness? Is your happiness conditional on a certain set of circumstances being met? Are you happy when your stocks are going up and when they're going down? Or just when they're going up? Are you happy when you get the promotion and when your rival gets the promotion? Or just when you get the promotion? Are you grateful when you're healthy and when you're sick? Or pretty much just when you're healthy?

All of my adult life, I have, I recall, for years, having a conscious longing for durable joy. Those questions might seem like stupid questions—like, of course, we're happy when we're up and sad when we're down. But if you give me, like, until the end of this message—give me, like, 20 minutes or so—and I want to see if those questions still seem stupid. Is it possible that there's such a thing as durable joy?

The Context of the Passage

Last week, Slooper reminded us that one of the major themes of Philippians is that, in Christianity, the way up is actually down, right? We're here, we want to go here—and it just seems obvious that the way from here to here is this—but that's really how it works, right? Jesus is here. He's going to be here. And the way he gets from here to here is he goes all the way down. So that he can go all the way up.

And the same is true in our lives. The way up is down. Paul Miller, do you guys remember Paul Miller? He came here about a year ago, last spring—maybe six months ago. His expertise tends to be in prayer, but he also read a book called The J Curve, which is a fantastic book, and it's actually my favorite Paul Miller book. The J Curve is a term he uses to describe this phenomenon of the way up being down. It's a convenient shorthand, so I'm just going to steal it, but you might actually want to read his book.

Jesus's life follows the shape of the letter J. We go down in order to go up, and we imitate him. But Jesus is a tough act to follow. So, what Paul does throughout this book, he's constantly giving us this J curve kind of language, but he doesn't just point to Jesus every time. He also points to himself. He is the example of this shape. He points to Timothy. He points to Epaphroditus. And I think he's doing it because, as we said, like, be like Jesus. You could be like, okay. I mean, thank you, but that's a little difficult, right? So, he shows us this feature of the human experience in a whole bunch of different forms.

So, we can follow it. And this particular iteration will be a little bit different. I'll show you that in a minute. There's a second theme in Philippians, and that is joy. Dave mentioned that again last week, right? Joy is the thread that holds Philippians together. First service, I got it wrong—I thought there were 14 references to joy. It turns out it is 16. Right? So, Dave says maybe it's 14. I don't know. We'll find out. But whatever it is—joy, joy, joy—and what I want to try to show you today is how do these two themes, these two ideas—that the way up is down and that there's such a thing as durable joy—how do these two things intersect? I think that's what we're going to see in our passage.

Application

Okay, we'll start with the J curve. After praying for the Philippians, who walked us through last week, Paul comes right out of the gate framing his whole experience in this shape, right? He gives us this paradigm that Christians take the lowest place. But this particular expression of it is more of a corollary than a contradiction. There's a twist, there's a change. I want you to notice it.

Take a look, see if you notice the corollary. Philippians 1:12 says—and by the way, this is not going to sound as good as when Stan read it. Right? Stan's voice is better than mine by orders of magnitude. Don't agree? I want you to know, brothers, that what has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel.

So that it has become known throughout the whole imperial guard and to all the rest that my imprisonment is for Christ. And most of the brothers, having become confident in the Lord by my imprisonment, are much more bold to speak the word without fear.

Now, he starts off by saying what has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel. What's he alluding to there? His imprisonment, right? He's going to say three times—twice in this paragraph and once in the one about to come—he's in prison. He's in prison. The thing is, Paul's always in prison, right? This is unmistakably the lowest place. This is the low point. But it's not an unfamiliar spot. Paul is a guy who suffers tremendously for the gospel.

There's a passage, 2 Corinthians 11, where he summarizes it all: I was in prison more frequently, I was beaten more severely, I've been exposed to death again and again. Five times I received from the Jews the 40 lashes minus one. Three times I was beaten with rods; one was stoned; three times I was shipwrecked; and I've been in danger from this and that, from hunger, cold, naked. I've been tired, I face all these pressures. For the concern I have for the churches, Paul knows how to take a punch.

This particular form of suffering is that he's back in jail, right? Relatively straightforward. It's not hard to see that as the downstroke.

Upstroke is where it gets a little complicated. Okay? What the J curve teaches us is that I go down and then I go up. Jesus took the lowest place, and he was exalted to the highest place. But, listen again, because this version is a little different:

Philippians 1:12 again—I want you to know, brothers, that what has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel, so that it has become known throughout the whole imperial guard and to all the rest that my imprisonment is in Christ.

Most translations say "my imprisonment is for Christ," but scholars tell me that it actually says "in Christ." Think about what that might mean. I don't think the implications are immediately obvious. It means that his imprisonment wasn't just on behalf of Christ. It wasn't just motivated by Christ. It wasn't just for Christ. It wasn't just related to Christ. Rather, he was in solidarity with Christ. It was as a fellow sufferer with Christ. It was in union with Christ.

When we follow the J curve, we're participating in the sufferings of Christ. We're joining him in that. So, he's with Christ. He's in Christ. And the result of this is that all of the guards understand the gospel. They know what's happening here.

Just think about this for a second. How do they all know? Why do they all know that Paul's imprisonment is in Christ? Because he tells them. Of course he does, because everywhere he goes—think about these poor guards, right? They got a four-hour shift. Four hours hanging out with Paul, he's going to talk about Christ the whole time. Then there's a guard shift. Next guy comes in, he's going to talk about Christ. Because it doesn't matter what he's doing—whatever he's doing, it's an opportunity to talk about Christ. Everywhere Paul goes, Paul goes to prison. And he's like, great, I guess you're doing evangelism in prison today, right? Because for Paul, every situation is an opportunity to declare the praises of him who called him out of darkness into his wonderful light.

Look at the second upstroke—verse 14. Most of the brothers are now, become more bold. And you guys, of course, they are, because Paul is bold, and courage is contagious. You've experienced this, right? When you're around brave people, don't you become more brave? If some of my friends on this hike had chickened out and didn't go to the summit, it would have made it a lot easier for me to chickening out and not go up. But they didn't, and so up we went, right? For better or for worse—that's just how it works. Courage is contagious.

We do frightening things. When people see you saying true things, being slandered for it, responding graciously, then saying them again, you're giving them courage to do those very things. That's what's happening here. Paul is suffering for Christ, and his friends are watching, and they're like, all right, this is worth it. They become more bold, right? We give courage to one another.

Thirdly, this one's a little puzzling, but it's in the next paragraph—verse 15. Take a look. It says some—indeed, preach Christ from envy and rivalry. That's strange. They're preaching the gospel enviously as a competitive sport. Others from goodwill, the latter out of love, knowing that I am put here for the defense of the gospel. But the former preach Christ out of selfish ambition—not sincerely—thinking to afflict me in my imprisonment.

What then? Only that in every way—whether in pretense or in truth—Christ is proclaimed. And in that, I rejoice. Paul saying people are specifically preaching the gospel so that it'll be painful to him. They've weaponized the gospel. That's so odd. Who's doing this? What's going on? I did a quick survey of Paul's writings, and he talks about this—or something like this—all the time.

It's the first-century church. We've not had much time to get corrupted. But he refers to people who peddle the word of God for profit, who use secret and shameful ways. He talks in 2 Corinthians about these super-apostles, who masquerade as apostles of Christ. He talks about teachers who use cunning and craftiness as deceitful schemes. Paul has seen it all, and he knows there's all kinds of shady stuff happening under the banner of Christ.

Even when he's the specific target of their malice, he's okay with it. He can extract the positives: Jesus is being talked about. Perhaps people are coming to know Christ at his cost. That's fine. Whatever it takes.

All these things come down to the same idea: if Paul has to suffer for others to be blessed—the growth, maturity, nurture in Christ—then he's fine. His version of the J curve is: death for me, means life for others. Yeah, death for me means life for others. But it also means life for him.

Look at verse 19. He says: "Yes, and I will rejoice, for I know that through your prayers and the help of the Spirit of Jesus Christ, this will turn out for my deliverance." Notice this: Paul believes that his personal J curve will still benefit him. He's just willing to wait his turn.

I will go down so that others may go up. And I get to go up, too. That's what he's saying. All right. But what's so fascinating about this is that he's really not particular about what that deliverance looks like. Whether he lives or dies—fine. It's a pretty big range.

Verse 20: "My eager expectation and hope that I will not at all be ashamed, but that with full courage now, as always, Christ will be honored in my body—whether by life or by death." You guys, all my life, I've had a conscious longing for durable joy. I have had days, seasons of great happiness, and days marked by fear, sorrow, anxiety, depression.

But Paul says in this letter: "Rejoice always. I will say it again, rejoice." And as I’ve read that, I think: how do you do it always? When sometimes we're up, and sometimes we're down? Is there even such a thing as a joy that endures through really painful, difficult circumstances? What is he talking about? He claims to have found a paradigm in which he's winning even when he's losing.

Look what he says. I think, by the way, this is why he not only can say "Rejoice always," but also I think it's what he's talking about toward the end of the book, in chapter 4, when he says: "I have learned the secret of being content in every situation—whether well-fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want." In every situation. He doesn't tell us what the secret is in chapter 4. He just says, "I have learned the secret." Yeah, dude—what is it? He doesn't tell you what it is. I think it's this: I think he already told us the secret back in chapter 1. And, by the way, if we can learn that secret and live it, we have found El Dorado. It is the city of gold. It is the fountain of youth. It is the true durable joy you’re looking for. No matter what you're looking for, you just think that you're going to find it in that.

This is the desire behind every desire: can I be endlessly happy? This is what Paul is talking about. So, this is what he says. Okay, verse 21: "For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain." He says, if I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me. Yet, what shall I choose? I cannot tell. I'm hard-pressed between the two. They both seem like such good options.

My desire—my favorite, to be honest—is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better. I wonder, do you realize that a cheerful countenance toward death is supposed to be normal Christianity? Isn't that odd? Like, when I was on that mountain, I didn't want to fall off. I didn't want to die, and I was somewhat afraid. And so I get that we don't rush in, but I think it's strange and puzzling when Christians join the world in a panicked frenzy to prolong life, at any cost—for one more day, one more month.

Again, like, the night before we went on this hike, I finally saw how incredible it was—and I thought, I'd rather stay alive, right? I would. But, you guys, falling asleep in Christ is deceptively good. I do not want to get cancer, but I might. If I live long enough, I will. And if I get some tragic diagnosis, what I want to be able to do is say, "Sooner, I’ll be with him." Sooner, I will see his face. And I've observed enough people that, when they get that diagnosis, it becomes this clawing thing. I think there's a trap human nature falls into—probably for a lot of reasons—that says: "What must I do to stay alive?"

And if I weren't a believer, I think that would make a lot of sense. But if we know—and we do—if we know we don't grieve like the rest of the world who has no hope, because we know we will be with him, we will see him, he will raise our bodies, then I think that should, and I hope that it will, although it will get tested one day, I hope that what I will do—and what we will do—is say, Lord, I trust you all the way. And though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will not do so in fear, because I know that you are with me, and you will be with me.

Does that make sense? We don't jump off the mountain. We don't choose death. We don't make it happen. We're not reckless with the lives he's given us. We hold on to the cables. But when he calls us to his side, it'll be better by far because he is better by far.

The Secret of Durable Joy

But, but, but—lest we overemphasize that side of the fork—listen to what Paul says about the other side, because this is really where I think the durable joy lies. We're not about to turn CHS into a suicide cult, okay? Verse 24: "But to remain in the flesh is more necessary on your account." Convinced of this, I know that I will remain and continue with you all, for your progress and joy in the faith, so that in me you may have ample cause to glory in Christ Jesus because of my coming to you again.

Because Paul wants to be with Jesus—that's better by far—but there's work to be done. So, he's like, so I’m not going anywhere. It's their progress. It's their joy in the faith that keeps him in the game. All the churches he's planted, all the churches he wants to develop, all those he's not yet reached—there's just more work to be done. And, by work, he means benefit that he can offer to others.

And as he says, if we're still in the body, and we are, fruitful labor remains. This is Paul's secret to durable joy: if the good of others—hear this—if the good of others is what we chiefly prize, then there is endless treasure to be mined and savored. You'll never run out. Our opportunity: we go down for the good of others, which ultimately results in good for us. This is exactly what Jesus is described as doing in Hebrews 12: "For the joy set before him, he endured the cross." That joy was the good of others. That was his joy—that not only could we be forgiven, but the Father, whom he loves, would not be unjust in showing mercy to guilty people. And for that double pleasure—our well-being and his Father's well-being—he endures unimaginable miseries for joy.

And then we're told to do likewise. Peter says he suffered for you, leaving us an example that we should follow in his steps. We don't just suffer for suffering's sake. We suffer for the good of others, and therein, we find durable joy.

Conclusion

This is, you guys, I am convinced, what actually works. This is it. But it does require a change in headspace. It is our insistence on our own happiness that makes us unhappy. It is our focus on the well-being of others—as they flourish in Christ—that brings us durable joy. That’s the secret: down for the good of others, so that they might be exalted to the ultimate end of our own—our own durable joy. No matter what else happens, that’s the secret. That’s what Paul is talking about.

And it’s going to, I think, require a significant amount of humility, to begin to be like Christ—to see the way he loved us, that we might love others in the same way. But the promise is, as we do that, as we make that transition to focus on the needs of others rather than our own, the result is durable joy.

Amen. May it be true here in this body. Lord Jesus, we exalt you because, for a hundred thousand reasons, you are the author of all joy. You are the one who took the lowest place for us. And I pray that you might develop this in us by your Spirit—that we would more and more and more consider the needs of others more important than ourselves, that we would focus there and then find that, of course, it was true all along—that’s where true joy resides. Give us the grace to be like that for your glory and our joy. We love you.