Note: the following is the manuscript for the message and will not match exactly the recorded message above.
Introduction
Jürgen Moltmann was only sixteen when he was drafted into the German army during World War II. He wasn’t a committed Nazi, he was just a boy swept up in a tide of destruction.
In 1945, after watching his city burn, he surrendered to British soldiers and spent years as a prisoner of war. Behind barbed wire, haunted by what his nation had done and what he himself had been part of, he encountered the God he had never known before.
He encountered God as revealed in Jesus, hanging on a cross—forsaken, yet present in the very depths of human suffering.
Moltmann went on to write The Crucified God, a book that asks us to see the cross not as a passing moment of defeat but as the very heart of who God is. He discovered that God is not distant from pain but takes it on, bears it, transforms it.
To live in Christ is not to climb upward to power, to overcome weakness with human strength, but to be poured out in love, even at great cost, trusting that God’s resurrection life meets us there.
Moltmann’s surrender became his turning point. We also are called to surrender: to let the self-giving way of Jesus shape our lives, our relationships, our church, and even our hope for the world.
A similar story is that of Saul of Tarsus, who was one of the first and most determined persecutors of the early church. The key difference between Saul and Jürgen Moltmann is that Saul willingly committed himself to the destruction of the church.
Saul grew up in a devout Jewish home, carefully trained in the traditions of his people (Phil. 3:5). Though born in Tarsus, a city renowned for its pagan philosophers (Acts 22:3), he was sent as a child to Jerusalem, where he studied the Jewish law.
Joining the Pharisees, he advanced quickly, earning the trust of his leaders and setting out on a promising path as a teacher of the law.
Acts 7 tells the story of a disciple of Jesus named Stephen being stoned to death after preaching the gospel.
Acts 8:1-3 says that Saul approved of the killing of Stephen.
“On that day a great persecution broke out against the church in Jerusalem, and all except the apostles were scattered throughout Judea and Samaria. Godly men buried Stephen and mourned deeply for him. But Saul began to destroy the church. Going from house to house, he dragged off both men and women and put them in prison.”
Not long after this, Saul was on his way to Damascus to continue his persecution of the church when Jesus appeared to him, blinded him, and told him to stop what he was doing. He was to go into Damascus where he would be told what to do next.
As a result of this event, the whole course of his life was changed. Paul, who formerly persecuted followers of Jesus, became a disciple himself and, as he writes in Galatians 1:23, he began to preach the faith that he once had tried to destroy.
After about 15 years following his conversion, Saul, now known as Paul, was commissioned along with a man named Barnabas, to go out to communities in which the gospel has not yet been preached.
Their first journey was relatively short, but they were able to preach in several cities, attempting to first bring the gospel to the Jews but were met with hostility much of the time.
So, Paul and Barnabas shook the dust off their feet, telling them that Jesus is sending them to be a light for the Gentiles so that they can bring salvation to the ends of the earth.
They had relative success among the Gentiles and on their way back home, they returned to visit some of the places where people came to believe in Jesus.
In Acts 15:36–41 we read about the start of the second missionary journey…
Whenever someone paints an overly glamorous picture of the early church, we can be reminded by stories such as this, that even from the very beginning there was conflict and disagreement.
And yet, God continued his work in expanding the church through these people. So, Paul and Silas went one direction and Barnabas and Mark went another.
Throughout Paul’s journeys, he had a pattern of visiting whatever synagogue or place of prayer that was already established. He was looking for people of peace who might be open to hearing the gospel message.
Then, he would try to visit them again, or write letters to the churches with further instruction so that they would grow in maturity.
The goal was that they would no longer be dependant on Paul but able to lead themselves and raise up other disciples from within their church who would become successors to the leaders who were trained by Paul.
On the way through the towns where he and Barnabas planted churches during their first journey, Paul met a young man named Timothy, who then joined Paul on the journey.
Ready to set off to continue their journey, the Holy Spirit redirected them.
Acts 16:9 “During the night Paul had a vision of a man of Macedonia standing and begging him, “Come over to Macedonia and help us.”
So, that’s where they went next. You can see the route they took on the map on the back of the sermon notes.
Acts 16:11–15 “From Troas we put out to sea and sailed straight for Samothrace, and the next day we went on to Neapolis. From there we traveled to Philippi, a Roman colony and the leading city of that district of Macedonia. And we stayed there several days. On the Sabbath we went outside the city gate to the river, where we expected to find a place of prayer. We sat down and began to speak to the women who had gathered there. One of those listening was a woman from the city of Thyatira named Lydia, a dealer in purple cloth. She was a worshiper of God. The Lord opened her heart to respond to Paul’s message. When she and the members of her household were baptized, she invited us to her home. “If you consider me a believer in the Lord,” she said, “come and stay at my house.” And she persuaded us.”
So, this is the beginning of the church in Philippi. Some women praying and worshiping God by a river who were receptive to the gospel message. Let’s now turn to Philippians and take a look at the first two verses.
From/To (1:1)
Philippians 1:1 “Paul and Timothy, servants of Christ Jesus, To all God’s holy people in Christ Jesus at Philippi, together with the overseers and deacons:”
Several of Pauls letters include Timothy in the greeting. It is believed that Paul required a secretary to write his letters for him. Perhaps due to poor writing skills or bad eyesight.
Timothy seems to have filled this role for Paul, as he is mentioned in the introduction to many of his letters.
All of Paul’s writings in the New Testament are letters, which are personal words of instruction, encouragement, and greetings, to real churches in the Roman world.
His openings, which we often skim, should not be overlooked. In Philippians, for instance, he introduces himself and Timothy not as apostles, but as “servants of Christ Jesus.”
In a city obsessed with status, this would have jarred the hearers. Servants were society’s nobodies, valued only for their labour, and denied any respect or honour.
Paul embraces that low identity, not to diminish himself, but to demonstrate that he belongs to and identifies with Christ.
At the same time, Paul greets the “overseers and deacons” of the church. These weren’t yet established as official positions. They were functional roles, and even the word “deacon” means “servant.”
True leadership in the church, Paul insists, is a calling to care for others. The highest honour in his greeting is reserved not for the church leaders but is said equally of all believers: they are “holy ones in Christ Jesus.”
In Scripture, holiness marks what belongs to God—angels, priests, Israel itself. Now, by the Spirit, every believer is marked as holy, set apart as God’s treasured possession.
Essentially, it means they are pure. We learn throughout the rest of the New Testament that this holiness, or purity, is not based on human effort, but on the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
So, the basis of calling the people holy is not their behaviour but their faith in Christ. Those who trust in Jesus are cleansed by him, made pure and acceptable.
Within this often overlooked greeting is a reminder of the status and identity of those who trust in Christ Jesus.
Greetings from God (1:2)
Almost all letters from this time and place in history begin with a threefold salutation: The writer, to the recipient, greetings. Very often the next item in the letter would be a wish (sometimes a prayer) for the health or well-being of the addressee.
So, if this letter would take on a typical form, it would simply be: Paul and Timothy, to the church in Philippi, greetings. May you be found upon the receiving of this letter to be in good health and prosperity.
And while Paul’s letters generally follow this standard form, he transforms it, giving it a distinctively Christian flavour.
Grace and peace are his most commonly used terms in his greetings. This combines a typical Roman greeting which included well-wishes, with a typical Jewish form of greeting, which is the desire for the recipients to experience God’s peace.
What we don’t see on the surface is just how Paul transformed this greeting. He took what would be ordinary words and associated them with the activity of God.
They are not just well-wishes, but an acknowledgment of God’s free gifts of grace and peace for those who trust in Jesus Christ.
It would have been quite a striking greeting for the original recipients of this letter. Paul says, essentially, that it is God who greets them with grace and peace. Paul and Timothy are but servants, vessels, of God’s greeting to them.
It is not some distant god, but God the Father, the same title that Jesus told his disciples to use in what we call the Lord’s Prayer, which we recited earlier in the service.
Most, if not all, of the congregation in Philippi would have been born and raised as Romans citizens. And Roman citizens did not think of gods in this way.
I’ll read the typical Roman greeting again, and then I’ll read Pauls greeting. Pay special attention to difference at the end of the greeting.
Paul and Timothy, to the church in Philippi, greetings. May you be found upon the receiving of this letter to be in good health and prosperity.
Philippians 1:1–2 “Paul and Timothy, servants of Christ Jesus, To all God’s holy people in Christ Jesus at Philippi, together with the overseers and deacons: Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.”
The ending of the greeting is especially important and speaks to Paul’s view of his role, identity, and relationship with God.
He greets them on behalf of God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. This phrase puts Jesus Christ on the same level as God the Father.
The Lord Jesus Christ, then, is just as much the source of grace and peace as God the Father. This idea may not be new to many of us, but it would have been earth shattering for the original recipients.
Conclusion: What is the Cruciform Life?
In conclusion, I want to point us to the word “cruciform” in the title for this series, and the reason for this cross with a few things attached to it.
Throughout the series, I would like each of you to bring some artifact that represents who you are or how you occupy your time.
What I have attached is a copy of my first book manuscript. By attaching this to the cross, I am saying that I commit my identity and ambition as an author to take the shape of the cross.
So, what does it mean for our identity and ambitions to take the shape of the cross?
Cruciform is an old architectural term to describe a building or a feature of a building’s design that takes on the shape of a cross.
In the context of our study in Philippians, it should prompt us to consider how we are called to be shaped, in all areas of our lives, by the cross of Jesus Christ.
This will take the entire series and more to fully explore. For now, I offer this simple description of the cross-shaped, or cruciform life:
The cruciform life is patterned after Christ’s self-giving love and obedience to God as revealed on the cross.
It is more than merely admiring or believing certain things about God, Jesus, or the cross.
It is a pattern of life and identity that is conformed to the self-giving, others-serving love which is revealed in Christ’s death on the cross. Cruciform living means being joined to Christ so that his story becomes our story.
Paul’s language, which we will see throughout the series, of being “in Christ,” “dying with Christ,” and “being raised with Christ” expresses this reality.
The cruciform life includes humility and self-emptying service. It is not weakness for its own sake, but the paradoxical strength of giving myself for the benefit of others, even and especially those who I might consider to be my enemies.
To be cruciform is to live in a rhythm of obedience to God and love toward others, even when it involves suffering or loss of status.
Finally, it means that the cross shapes how we understand God, power, justice, and community. In the words of Jürgen Moltmann, “When the crucified Jesus is called ‘the image of the invisible God’, the meaning is that this is God, and God is like this. God is not greater than he is in this self-surrender. God is not more powerful than he is in this helplessness. God is not more divine than he is in this humanity.”
In other words, the greatest power the world has ever and will ever see is found by knowing Christ crucified; by embracing this sacrifice as our primary identity.