Keep Your Faith Present Tense
September 21, 2025
Preached by Benjamin Vrbicek
Scripture Reading
Philippians 2:12-30
12 Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, so now, not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, 13 for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure.
14 Do all things without grumbling or disputing, 15 that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world, 16 holding fast to the word of life, so that in the day of Christ I may be proud that I did not run in vain or labor in vain. 17 Even if I am to be poured out as a drink offering upon the sacrificial offering of your faith, I am glad and rejoice with you all. 18 Likewise you also should be glad and rejoice with me.
19 I hope in the Lord Jesus to send Timothy to you soon, so that I too may be cheered by news of you. 20 For I have no one like him, who will be genuinely concerned for your welfare. 21 For they all seek their own interests, not those of Jesus Christ. 22 But you know Timothy's proven worth, how as a son with a father he has served with me in the gospel. 23 I hope therefore to send him just as soon as I see how it will go with me, 24 and I trust in the Lord that shortly I myself will come also.
25 I have thought it necessary to send to you Epaphroditus my brother and fellow worker and fellow soldier, and your messenger and minister to my need, 26 for he has been longing for you all and has been distressed because you heard that he was ill. 27 Indeed he was ill, near to death. But God had mercy on him, and not only on him but on me also, lest I should have sorrow upon sorrow. 28 I am the more eager to send him, therefore, that you may rejoice at seeing him again, and that I may be less anxious. 29 So receive him in the Lord with all joy, and honor such men, 30 for he nearly died for the work of Christ, risking his life to complete what was lacking in your service to me.
We’re continuing our series through the letter that Paul wrote to a church in a city called Philippi. If you’re familiar with Paul’s letters, you know he often ends his letters with lists of names, travel plans, and other miscellaneous details. If you’re not familiar with Paul’s letters, I’ll tell you that Paul often ends his letters with lists of names, travel plans, and other miscellaneous details. Which is not so strange; we often write letters like that.
But what’s odd, we might wonder, is why now? Why does Paul—here in the middle of his letter—seem to break the pattern of putting such details at the end to tell us about two guys who did this and that and how he hopes they all might do more traveling in the future? It can be hard enough to understand the relevance of the list of names, travel plans, and miscellaneous details when they appear at the end of his letter. But what do we do with Paul shoving such details into the body of the letter? If you wonder about this, so did I. There are good answers. Let’s pray as we begin. “Dear Heavenly Father . . .”
There’s a reason caution tape is bright yellow and traffic cones are bright orange. It’s so we don’t miss nearby danger. There is a danger behind this passage that Paul saw for the church in Philippi that can affect us too. And I don’t want to risk burying that danger in a wall of words, so let me say it upfront: the danger is growing indifferent to our indifference toward God. I’ll say it again: the danger is growing indifferent to our indifference toward God.
What do I mean? I mean, we all have a lurking indifference to who God is and what he’s doing in this world and how he intends to save us and change us and using us to remake the world into a beautiful place until he comes again. We all can grow indifferent to the sweetness of salvation and the seriousness of sin. That’s certainly a danger.
But I’m saying something more specific. I’m saying the danger is that we’d grow indifferent to our indifference.
Over a thousand smaller moments we can start to not care that we don’t care as much anymore, to become indifferent to indifference. To state it more positively, I’ll put it the way I did in the title of the sermon: Dear Community Church, do whatever you have to do to keep your faith present tense.
Becoming indifferent to our indifference might not seem like an immediate danger. And it’s often not. We could see a sign that says, “Steep cliff; stay on path,” and think, “Oh, that sounds like an immediate danger.” Our mothers might tell us, “Don’t touch the stove top; it’s burning hot,” and we think, “Oh, that sounds like an immediate danger.” We could read warning labels that say, “Flammable” or “Poisonous” or “Radioactive” or “Cancer-causing,” and we would feel the immediate danger.
But do we feel spiritual drift as a danger?
When I was training to be a pastor, I did a summer internship at the church where I grew up. I remember seeing the adults a bit differently when that I became an adult. I suppose they had to figure out how to see me differently, too.
The pastor of the church was named Mark, and I remember talking with Mark about two men. They both had come to the church about the same time when I was a boy. When they did, one man was, by all accounts, more spiritually mature. The other man loved the Lord, too, but didn’t seem to have the same faith and ministry experience.
Then twenty years went by, and one thousand Sunday mornings went by, and one man was following the Lord with a vibrant, mature faith, following with a sacrificial love for God and neighbor. And the other was, well, seemed to always be gone. Pastor Mark told me the spiritual lives of the two men had switched. One kept his faith present tense, and the other, I suppose, became indifferent to his indifference.
I think of our own church. Prior to Covid, we had hoped a certain man at our church would one day become a volunteer pastor-elder, possibly within the next few years. He, his wife, and family seemed to love the Lord. They served often and cared about the things of God. Then he went missing in action, and we spent the next four years every so often reaching out and, at least in one case at the end, I pleaded with him to come back to the Lord, to come back to the church—any church; it didn’t have to be ours. He said he’d think about it. Maybe he still is.
Look again with me at v. 12.
12 Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, so now, not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling,
Note what Paul says to that church and to you: “work out your own salvation with fear and trembling.” My paraphrase of this is, “Do whatever you need to do to keep your faith present tense.”
This could be misunderstood. Paul is not saying, Look inward and be contemplative, and in doing so you will save yourself. And Paul is not saying that if you keep doing lots of good deeds, those deeds will save you and earn God’s favor. He’s not saying that either.
When he says work out your salvation, he doesn’t mean work in your salvation or earn your salvation. The salvation is already in. When Paul says work out your salvation, he means that God has taken a sovereign, decisive, inward act in a believer to forgive sins and recreate the human heart. In hearts where hostility toward God used to reign, now love toward God reigns. Salvation is already inside. And because it’s in, Paul says work it out. Take that salvation inside you—that growing love for God—and don’t let it grow cold.
The idea of the fear and trembling lines communicates that Christian life does have some bright yellow caution tape. The Christian life does have some bright orange traffic cones. The dangers may not seem as immediately threatening as a steep cliff or a hot stove or a jug of gasoline by an open fire, but spiritual drift is a real danger.
Thankfully, Paul spends the rest of the passage laboring to show ways you and I can keep our faith present tense. What he says should challenge and encourage you.
The passage begins with Paul giving clear commands about how to keep our faith present tense. Then he gives supporting examples of keeping your faith present tense. We’ll look at each of these and then I’ll come back to v. 13 and the promise of God. So, the clear commands, the supporting examples, and the promise of God.
1. The clear commands
I begin with the clear commands that Paul gives us about how to keep our relationship with God alive, how to keep our faith present tense. Let me read the verses again, and then I’ll summarize them in a few headings. Look with me at vv. 14–16.
14 Do all things without grumbling or disputing, 15 that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world, 16 holding fast to the word of life, so that in the day of Christ I may be proud that I did not run in vain or labor in vain.
1) The first clear command is about not grumbling. “Do all things,” Paul writes in v. 14, “without grumbling or disputing.” Notice the present tense nature of this. When you take out the trash, when you make your bed, when you come to church and we sing songs that aren’t your favorite, when your spouse picks his nose, when your boss asks your team to stay late to finish a project—in all things—do it without grumbling.
A spirit of persistent and present-tense grumbling will destroy your joy in the living Jesus, and it will spread to others. Certainly, since Paul is in prison, he’s in a less-than-ideal situation, even as his absence is less-than-ideal for them. There is a legitimate place for biblical lament. Last week I led us in biblical lament as best as I know how during the pastoral prayer. But grumbling is something different. Grumbling poisons faith. Put caution tape around grumbling. Put orange cones around a disputing spirit, Paul says.
We don’t have time to explore the Old Testament context Paul likely has in mind, but the phrasing Paul uses likely calls back to specific times of grumbling in the wilderness. “Oh,” the Israelites would grumble, “we remember when we were slaves in Egypt, and we had all the food and water and meat we could ever want. Remember how much better slavery was, how much better Pharaoh provided for us than God.”
And that’s sort of what Paul wants us to see with his allusion. He wants us to realize that grumbling about your boss or spouse or car or whatever is really grumbling unto the Lord. And that grumbling pushes faith to the past tense. I used to have faith that God was good, but now I’m not so sure.
(In God’s kindness, this week the Lord allowed me to see a few areas I’ve been grumbling not just tohim but about him. I need to repent. Maybe he’s showing you something similar now.)
2) Another clear command is to hold fast the word of life. You see it in v. 16. Holding fast the word of life is present tense language. On a ship at sea in a storm, you’d hold fast to the railing as though your life depends upon it—because it does.
The phrase “word of life” is shorthand for the gospel, it’s shorthand for the good news story of Jesus. Paul is saying, Make your mind and your heart hold on to the love of God; don’t most hold on to whatever is your present situation right in front of you, whether good or bad. Your present situation is a wobbly railing. Instead, hold on to the truth that God demonstrates his love for us in his death for our sins and his resurrection for our life and his promise of his second coming for our final and forever resurrection to endless glory. Have present-tense holding fast to the railing that won’t move.
3) And Paul also tells us to shine like stars. I know we can see the stars at night here in Harrisburg. But perhaps you’ve been somewhere with less light pollution and seen how bright stars can be. The ancients would have known this brightness even better. And more than just knowing this, they would have known Paul’s command implied. To navigate somewhere, we use our phones; we use GPS. They would have used the stars. Paul is saying that in a dark and crooked world, don’t stop shining. Let your life, not only your words, be a light that shows the beauty of God’s ways. Live in such a way that others could navigate to God by your light. (I’m using some of the language Shad Baker used in a sermon on this passage at Carlisle Free Church in 2015.)
So those are the clear commands to keep your faith present tense. Let go of grumbling, hold fast the gospel, and shine like stars. Now we come to what I brought up at the very beginning: the list of names, the travel plans, and what seems like miscellaneous details. Why are these included here in the middle of the letter, not just at the end? Paul knows clear commands are helpful. He also knows we need examples of present-tense faith in the lives of others.
2. The supporting examples: Paul, Timothy, and Epaphroditus
I can’t explore the examples in great detail. But I do want to read the rest of the passage again and note a few highlights. We see three supporting examples: Paul, Timothy, and a man called Epaphroditus. Look with me at vv. 17–30.
17 Even if I am to be poured out as a drink offering upon the sacrificial offering of your faith, I am glad and rejoice with you all. 18 Likewise you also should be glad and rejoice with me.
19 I hope in the Lord Jesus to send Timothy to you soon, so that I too may be cheered by news of you. 20 For I have no one like him, who will be genuinely concerned for your welfare. 21 For they all seek their own interests, not those of Jesus Christ. 22 But you know Timothy’s proven worth, how as a son with a father he has served with me in the gospel. 23 I hope therefore to send him just as soon as I see how it will go with me, 24 and I trust in the Lord that shortly I myself will come also.
25 I have thought it necessary to send to you Epaphroditus my brother and fellow worker and fellow soldier, and your messenger and minister to my need, 26 for he has been longing for you all and has been distressed because you heard that he was ill. 27 Indeed he was ill, near to death. But God had mercy on him, and not only on him but on me also, lest I should have sorrow upon sorrow. 28 I am the more eager to send him, therefore, that you may rejoice at seeing him again, and that I may be less anxious. 29 So receive him in the Lord with all joy, and honor such men, 30 for he nearly died for the work of Christ, risking his life to complete what was lacking in your service to me.
Again, we see three examples: Paul, Timothy, and a man called Epaphroditus.
1) You’ll note Paul describes ministry as running and labor. These imply present-tense effort. Paul believed in the supernatural power of God, but his metaphor for ministry was not a Lazy River: Just sit back and let God be God. If ministry seems as hard as running, not as easy as floating, that might mean you’re doing it right, not wrong.
And Paul speaks of being poured out as a drinking offering upon a sacrifice. He’s saying that there is a certain joy to consuming a drink for oneself, but to pour it out on a sacrifice highlights the superior joy of seeing others love Jesus. Maybe you know people who have poured themselves out for your faith, people who have labored so that you can know Jesus. I hope you can point to people in your life who do not count their own free time as their own free time but pour themselves out for you. I can think of many who have done that for me.
2) Paul also speaks of Timothy and the example that he is. “I have no one like him,” Paul says. Why? What makes Timothy so special? He’s continually thinking of others above himself. “Timothy,” Paul implies, “is doing the very thing for them that Jesus has done for all of us.” Paul is saying that what you see in miniature in Timothy—the present-tense faith he displays in his care for you—is what Jesus has in full in his care for you. That’s Timothy’s supporting example.
3) And there’s also this man named Epaphroditus. A lot is said about him here, though we only know of him from this chapter and some lines at the end of this letter (4:18; cf. 4:10). Apparently, the Philippian church had heard Paul was in jail. They worried. So they sent a man they knew was trustworthy and would minister to Paul and bring Paul supplies. This is “what was lacking” in their service: their physical proximity to Paul. So, they sent Epaphroditus to Paul. And, apparently, in the process of coming to Paul for the sake of Jesus, he got sick and nearly died. Then Epaphroditus heard that they were worried he had almost died, and now he’s concerned that they are worried about him. He’s going to leave Paul, who seems to be doing fine, and come back to them to encourage them in their faith. What devotion to God and the local church!
There are many things I might point out about all these supporting examples of Paul, Timothy, and Epaphroditus (and the Philippian church). One takeaway is that keeping your faith present tense involves committing your life to the well-being of others, especially other believers. If you live for yourself, one day you might wake up indifferent to your indifference to the things of God. You can’t stop loving your neighbor without it affecting your love for God. They go together (Matt. 22:37–40).
Picture it like this. Picture a fire with logs and coals. Maybe some of you will build a bonfire in the backyard this fall. What happens if you take a marshmallow poker and move a hot coal two feet from the fire? In twenty minutes, will that isolated coal be as hot as it was before? No. But what happens if you move it back? It grows warm again.
Some of you are in a present tense state of moving away from others, and in the process, I wonder if your love for God is also growing cold. Come back to us.
I believe God puts these examples here in the middle of the letter, not mainly to tell us a list of names, travel plans, and miscellaneous details, but to show us that belonging in meaningful ways to others in a local church is a primary way we keep our faith alive. We work out our faith with fear and trembling best when we do that with others who are working out their faith with fear and trembling.
There are other parts of their example worth noting. I’ll only say one more, specifically the culture of honor. Did you notice that even as Paul tells them to honor such men, he is honoring these men? He doesn’t just say, “Some guy named Timothy will come soon. And some guy named Epaphroditus will come soon.” He says, “I have no one like Timothy, who will be genuinely concerned for your welfare; you know Timothy’s proven worth, how as a son with a father he has served with me in the gospel.” That’s honoring. Showing honor gives God glory, and keeps faith present tense for Paul, Timothy, and the Philippian church.
And he says, “[I] send to you Epaphroditus my brother and fellow worker and fellow soldier, and your messenger and minister to my need.” That’s honor. It’s impossible to grow indifferent to the things of God when you’re constantly looking for ways that God is working in the lives of others.
I suspect that most churches and Christians are known for their contempt rather than their honor. When was the last time you pulled someone aside and said, “I see God working in you in the way you _____. I see the work of God in you in how you remain steadfast in a trial… I see the work of God in you in how you endure slander… or evangelize the lost… or took a lower-paying job because it was God’s call on your life…” or whatever.
But someone might object, Won’t the person get a big head if we flatter them? I’m not talking about flattery. I’m talking about a culture of honor that helps others keep their faith present tense, even as it will help the one speaking honor. You can do that this afternoon. Sure, you can text someone how you see God working in their life. But why not call them? Why not just show up at their house and say you need two minutes? Dump honor on them and leave. It might change a life, including yours.
3. The promise of God’s help
I need to close, which I’ll do in a moment. Sometimes, as a church guy, I get to be in settings where we hear how God has worked in people’s lives. It’s a wonderful joy.
But sometimes the way people tell the story of what God has done in their lives gives me pause. It’s all in the past tense. “Oh, when I was a boy, we went to church and did mission trips.” “Oh, when I was in college, there was a great ministry.” “Oh, when I first moved to this or that city, we really saw God move in powerful ways.” These answers aren’t wrong in themselves. But I worry when all our answers are like twenty years ago, it’s like a farmer going, “Yeah, once upon a time we had a really big harvest.”
There’s something special and right about looking back. But if all the works of God in your life can be narrated in the past tense, you should be concerned.
Now, I know there is such a thing as seasons of spiritual life. In the spring, we plant, in summer, they grow, and in winter, the land rests. Seasons are real. You don’t need to fear if you’re not always harvesting. A farmer is still a farmer in the winter. Recognizing seasons, however, is different than drifting. This passage is asking us to consider our heart posture toward God in all seasons.
I certainly don’t want to leave you with only or mainly with concern. God loves to bring people back to joyful, present-tense faith and obedience in him. God delights to do this. God delights to shatter your indifference to your indifference. Paul describes it as God’s pleasure. Look with me at. vv. 12–13 again. We’ve seen the commands and the examples. Here the promise of God.
12 Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, so now, not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, 13 for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure.
Yes, Paul says, we are to work out our salvation; we are not to become indifferent to our indifference. But we are promised this is the very thing that God himself is most committed to doing—most enjoys doing—in the life of the believer. What we read in v. 13 calls back to what Paul says near the beginning of the letter. In 1:6, Paul writes, “And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.”
Maybe, right now in the preaching of the Word, the Spirit of Christ is shattering your indifference and causing you to hold fast to the word of life, that we might shine like stars.
And if he’s not, there’s nothing more important on your calendar today than to seek him for this change. Let’s pray. “Dear Heavenly Father…”
Sermon Discussion Questions
How have you seen spiritual drift in yourself, other people, a single church, and the church more broadly?
What is your temptation when you see yourself or others drifting? What do you believe God is calling you to do?
In the list of commands and examples, what feels the most convicting to you? (Not grumbling and disputing, shining like stars, holding fast to the word of life, showing honor, being involved in the well-being of others? Something else?)
Benjamin spoke of seasons in ministry and life with God. What season do you feel like you are in, spring, summer, fall, or winter? Why? How do you know the difference in a season and a change in your heart posture to God? Does your answer involve others?
Focus on the promise of God in Phil. 1:6 and 2:13. How should these encourage us?
