In the last article, I wrote about learning to accept the life God has actually given me instead of constantly fighting to make it into something else. I do not mean that Christians should stop making plans, quit pursuing better opportunities, or become passive about things that should change. I mean that I am beginning to see a difference between responsibility and control, and I have spent too much of my life assuming that faithfulness required me somehow to make my entire life come out right.

Philippians 1 pushes that thought in a direction that is harder for me. Paul does not merely tell Christians how to survive suffering after it arrives. He describes suffering for Christ as something that has actually been granted to them by God, and more surprising still, he places that grant beside the grant of believing in Christ.

Philippians 1:27–30

The relevant passage begins in verse 27, not verse 29. Paul is not beginning an abstract discussion of predestination, but addressing Christians whose allegiance to Christ is bringing them into conflict with opponents. He writes:

“Only let your way of life be worthy of the Good News of Christ, that, whether I come and see you or am absent, I may hear of your state, that you stand firm in one spirit, with one soul striving for the faith of the Good News; and in nothing frightened by the adversaries, which is for them a proof of destruction, but to you of salvation, and that from God. Because it has been granted to you on behalf of Christ, not only to believe in him, but also to suffer on his behalf, having the same conflict which you saw in me and now hear is in me.”

Philippians 1:27–30

The first thing to notice is the structure of Paul’s argument. He tells the Philippians to live in a manner worthy of the gospel, and then he explains what that worthy life looks like in their present situation. They are to stand firm together, strive together for the faith of the gospel, and refuse to be intimidated by their opponents. The whole paragraph is about Christian faithfulness under pressure.

The verb translated “let your way of life be” is politeuomai, a word connected with citizenship and civic conduct. That is interesting in Philippi because Philippi was a Roman colony, and its people understood the significance of citizenship. Paul is telling them that their conduct must correspond to another allegiance. They belong to Christ, and that allegiance becomes visible when opposition comes.

The passage therefore does not begin with an abstract discussion about predestination. It begins with Christians under pressure and the question of whether they will remain faithful. Paul wants to hear that they are standing, striving, and refusing to be frightened, and then in verse 29 he explains their suffering in a surprising way: “it has been granted to you.”

What Does “Granted” Mean?

The Greek word is echaristhē, from charizomai. It is related to charis, grace, and has the idea of giving something freely or graciously. Paul could have simply said that the Philippians happened to suffer, or even that God allowed them to suffer, but instead he describes both believing and suffering as things that have been graciously given.

“Because it has been granted to you on behalf of Christ, not only to believe in him, but also to suffer on his behalf.”

Philippians 1:29

Calvinists have understandably appealed to this verse when arguing that saving faith itself is a gift that God effectually gives. I think they are right about at least one part of that argument: Paul really does describe believing as something graciously given by God. I do not think the answer is to weaken the word until it means almost nothing. Faith is possible because God acts first: God reveals himself, sends Christ, sends the gospel, calls, convicts, draws, and gives grace.

But I do not think the word charizomai by itself proves irresistible grace. The reason comes directly from the sentence because Paul uses the same grammatical construction for suffering. God has granted them “not only to believe” but “also to suffer.” If the giving of faith necessarily means that the recipient cannot resist the gift, then we would have to ask whether the same thing is true of suffering.

Yet the surrounding passage is full of exhortations precisely because the Philippians must respond correctly to what is happening. They must stand firm, strive together, and not become frightened by their opponents. God’s gracious activity does not make their response meaningless. The gift and the response remain together in Paul’s argument.

That does not settle every question in the Calvinist and free-will debate. Philippians 1:29 was not written as a systematic treatment of prevenient grace, election, or irresistible grace, so I do not think we should force it to answer more than it actually addresses. But the parallel between belief and suffering at least gives me reason to hesitate before assuming that “granted” means “irresistibly caused.” The verse says more than that God stands at a distance, but I do not think it says that human response has ceased to be real.

Belief, Grace, and Resistance

The broader biblical picture also seems to me to allow genuine divine grace and genuine human resistance at the same time. God can really call, really invite, really reach toward someone, and that person can still resist him. Isaiah 65 gives one of the clearest pictures of this:

“I have spread out my hands all day to a rebellious people, who walk in a way that is not good, after their own thoughts; a people who provoke me to my face continually.”

Isaiah 65:2–3

The image is difficult to fit into the idea that God’s posture toward the rebellious is merely apparent. He is pictured with his hands extended toward people who continue to reject him. They remain responsible for their rebellion even though God is the one who initiates the appeal.

Paul quotes this verse at the end of Romans 10. That entire chapter revolves around proclamation, hearing, faith, and response. Paul asks how people will call on one in whom they have not believed, how they will believe without hearing, and how they will hear without a preacher. He then states that “faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of Christ.”

“How then will they call on him in whom they have not believed? How will they believe in him whom they have not heard? How will they hear without a preacher? And how will they preach unless they are sent? … So faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of Christ.”

Romans 10:14–15, 17

Paul then asks whether Israel heard, and his answer is yes. He eventually concludes by quoting Isaiah: “All day long I stretched out my hands to a disobedient and contrary people” (Romans 10:21). At minimum, that passage presents unbelief as resistance to a real divine appeal. God speaks and reaches, yet people can remain disobedient and contrary.

I take that broader biblical pattern to support a genuine offer of grace. God reaches toward humanity, and people can still refuse him. I would go farther and say that God gives people a real opportunity to believe, but Romans 10 by itself is focused particularly on Israel’s response to the proclaimed gospel, so I do not want to pretend that one passage proves every part of a broader doctrine of universal grace.

Still, the picture is clear enough for the point I am making. Grace and resistance are not mutually exclusive categories in Scripture. God’s initiative is real, and so is the human response to that initiative.

The Same Is True of Suffering

That becomes particularly clear with the second half of Philippians 1:29. God graciously grants believers the opportunity to suffer for Christ, but Christians can still attempt to avoid suffering when faithfulness becomes costly. The New Testament gives more than one example.

When Jesus was arrested, Matthew says, “Then all the disciples left him and fled” (Matthew 26:56). Peter followed at a distance, but when the danger came close enough, he denied knowing Jesus three times. Later, when persecution came against the early church, some believers endured it faithfully while others struggled.

Demas is another example, although I want to be careful with him. Paul says, “Demas left me, having loved this present world” (2 Timothy 4:10). The text does not tell us enough to reconstruct all his motives or to say exactly what sort of danger he was avoiding. But it does show that participation with Paul in costly ministry could be abandoned.

So when Paul says the Philippians have been granted the opportunity to suffer for Christ, I do not understand him to mean that every response to that suffering is predetermined. God can place the opportunity before them, give grace for it, and call them to faithfulness. They can still stand or retreat, which is precisely why Paul exhorts them to stand firm.

Suffering in Philippians

I do not want the theological debate over verse 29 to obscure Paul’s actual concern. The Philippians are experiencing opposition, and Paul wants them to interpret that opposition correctly. Their suffering does not mean that God has abandoned them, and according to Paul, even this suffering has been brought within the sphere of grace.

That is a difficult idea for me because I naturally define grace by removal. God is gracious when he gets me out of something, fixes the problem, opens the door, heals the illness, changes the circumstances, or finally allows a difficult season to end. Paul has a broader category because sometimes grace removes the suffering, but sometimes grace gives the believer the opportunity to suffer faithfully.

The apostles learned the same thing in Acts 5, and their response is worth noticing. After they were arrested, threatened, and beaten, Luke describes what happened next. The text does not present the pain as good in itself:

“They therefore departed from the presence of the council, rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer dishonor for Jesus’ name. Every day, in the temple and at home, they never stopped teaching and preaching Jesus, the Christ.”

Acts 5:41–42

They were not rejoicing because being beaten feels good. The text gives no reason to romanticize pain. They rejoiced because the suffering had become part of their identification with Jesus and because they had remained faithful to him through it.

Peter eventually says the same thing. By that point, the man who once denied Jesus under pressure had learned to interpret suffering differently. He writes:

“Beloved, don’t be astonished at the fiery trial which has come upon you to test you, as though a strange thing happened to you. But because you are partakers of Christ’s sufferings, rejoice, that at the revelation of his glory you also may rejoice with exceeding joy.”

1 Peter 4:12–13

The interesting word there is “partakers.” Christian suffering is not merely pain that God watches from a distance. In some sense, suffering for Christ becomes participation with Christ.

Participation in the Sufferings of Christ

Paul develops that idea later in Philippians. His language becomes even more explicit when he describes what he wants from his relationship with Christ. He says:

“That I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of his sufferings, becoming conformed to his death, if by any means I may attain to the resurrection from the dead.”

Philippians 3:10–11

I understand why Paul wants to know Christ. I understand why he wants the power of the resurrection. The part I have a harder time understanding is why he includes “the fellowship of his sufferings” in the same desire.

The word translated “fellowship” is koinōnia, the ordinary word for participation or sharing. Paul wants more than information about Christ’s suffering. He wants a life so bound to Christ that even suffering becomes something they share.

That does not mean that Christians repeat the atonement. Jesus’ death for sin is unique, and Paul is not trying to add anything to the sacrifice of Christ. But he does seem to believe that conformity to Christ includes walking through the pattern of Christ’s life: obedience, opposition, suffering, death, and finally resurrection.

Filling Up the Afflictions of Christ

This helps explain one of Paul’s strangest statements in Colossians. The wording is difficult enough that I do not think we should pass over it quickly. Paul writes:

“Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and fill up on my part that which is lacking of the afflictions of Christ in my flesh for his body’s sake, which is the assembly, of which I was made a servant according to the stewardship of God which was given me toward you, to fulfill the word of God.”

Colossians 1:24–25

At first glance, “that which is lacking of the afflictions of Christ” sounds as though Paul thinks Jesus did not suffer enough. But that cannot be what he means in context. Only a few verses earlier Paul has said that Christ reconciled through “the blood of his cross” and presents believers holy and blameless before God.

So what is lacking? I think the next verse gives the best clue because Paul connects his suffering with the ministry God gave him “to fulfill the word of God.” Christ accomplished redemption, and Paul now suffers while carrying the announcement of that redemption into the world.

The suffering of Christ therefore continues in a different sense through the mission of Christ’s body. Jesus suffered while bringing salvation into the world. Paul suffers while carrying that message to the Gentiles, and other Christians suffer as they continue bearing witness to Christ.

Acts 9 makes the union even more striking. When Jesus confronts Saul on the Damascus road, he does not ask, “Why are you persecuting my church?” He asks, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” Saul persecutes Christians and discovers that Christ identifies himself with them so closely that their suffering is his suffering.

I think Paul eventually learned that lesson from the other side. The man who once caused the suffering of Christ’s people became the man who willingly received suffering into his own body for the sake of Christ’s people. His own ministry became an embodiment of the pattern he had once opposed.

Ordinary Work and Discipleship

Now I have to make another distinction because I do not want to turn every miserable Tuesday into Philippians 1:29. Crawling underneath a house is not persecution for Christ. Cleaning gutters, painting another wall, repairing rotten boards, or building a deck is not what Paul means when he talks about suffering because of the gospel.

Sometimes my knees hurt because I have spent too long kneeling on floor joists. That may qualify as suffering in normal conversation, but it is not suffering “on behalf of Christ” in the specific sense of Philippians 1. The distinction matters because I do not want to make an application by pretending the text says more than it does.

Still, that does not place ordinary work outside discipleship. Paul has a theology of ordinary work too, and the ordinary task can still be offered to Christ. He writes:

“Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the reward of the inheritance. For you serve the Lord Christ.”

Colossians 3:23–24

He tells the Thessalonians “to make it your ambition to lead a quiet life, and to do your own business, and to work with your own hands” (1 Thessalonians 4:11). There is nothing dramatic about that command, and that seems to be part of the point. Apparently the Christian life does not require every day to feel historically significant.

So I think there are two related categories that I should not collapse into one. There is suffering for Christ, when obedience to Christ itself brings hostility, rejection, or loss. Then there are the ordinary hardships of a life given to Christ, where work, fatigue, frustration, and monotony become the circumstances in which I have to practice faithfulness. The crawlspace is not persecution, but what I do with myself while I am in the crawlspace still belongs to Christ.

The Daily Cross

Jesus said something that broadens the question beyond persecution. His words are severe because the cross is not a metaphor for mild inconvenience. He said:

“If anyone desires to come after me, let him deny himself, take up his cross daily, and follow me.”

Luke 9:23

The cross in that passage is more severe than an unpleasant workday. Jesus is talking about relinquishing one’s claim over one’s own life in order to follow him. But that relinquishment has to show itself somewhere, and most of the time it shows itself in much smaller decisions than martyrdom.

Most days I am not standing before a magistrate deciding whether I will confess Jesus. I am deciding whether I will become bitter because a job went badly, whether I will treat someone honestly when dishonesty would make the job easier, and whether I will bring my frustration home with me because the day did not go according to my plan. Those are smaller decisions, but they still reveal what I believe belongs to Christ.

I am also deciding whether I will despise the life in front of me because I think I should be doing something more important. That one is harder for me because I have often treated ordinary work as evidence that I am stuck. It exposes how easily I can measure the value of a day by how significant it feels to me.

I have spent a lot of time assuming that somewhere ahead of me there was a life that would finally make sense. I would get through this season, finish this job, solve this problem, make enough money, write something important, build something significant, and eventually arrive at the life I thought I was supposed to have. The problem with that way of thinking is that years can disappear while I wait for my life to begin.

Philippians 1 does not tell me to stop pursuing good things. But it does give me another category for the difficulties I would rather escape. Sometimes God is not merely waiting for me on the other side of the trial, because faithfulness inside the trial can itself be part of what he is giving me.

What I Think Philippians 1 Gives Me

I still believe strongly in human freedom. I believe grace can be resisted, and I believe God’s gracious giving does not erase the reality of human response. Philippians 1:29 seems to me to fit that understanding because Paul speaks of belief and suffering as gifts while still exhorting Christians to stand, strive, and refuse fear.

But I think I have spent too much time using the verse primarily to argue about the first half. Paul says that God grants us the opportunity to believe, but he also says that God can grant us the opportunity to suffer for Christ. That second statement deserves more attention than I have usually given it.

I do not know exactly what every difficulty in my life means, and I do not want to assign divine purpose to details that Scripture does not explain. Some suffering comes from sin, some from other people’s choices, some from living in a broken creation, and some directly from faithfulness to Christ. Philippians 1 is specifically about that last category, so I do not want to flatten every hardship into the same thing.

But the passage changes how I think about hardship more broadly. It tells me that suffering and grace are not opposites. It tells me that God can be present in the circumstance I would rather escape, and that following Christ may sometimes mean receiving an opportunity for costly faithfulness rather than immediately finding a way around it.

Tomorrow I may preach, write, study Scripture, or do something that feels significant. I may also clean another gutter, crawl under another house, paint another wall, or build another deck. Those things are not persecution, and I do not need to pretend they are.

They are simply the life in front of me. Somewhere in that life, whether in actual suffering for Christ or in the ordinary discipline of work given to Christ, I still have the same question before me: will I receive the opportunity to follow him faithfully, or will I spend the whole day trying to escape the place where faithfulness is being asked of me? The answer is not given by how significant the work feels, but by whether I remain faithful in it.