Behold he prayeth!” (Acts 9:11).
Did Ananias really appreciate the significance of this direction, as he strode along the street called Straight? Could he foresee that the one who was even then lifting up sightless eyes to heaven should years afterwards be found still praying–bruised and bleeding in the inner prison at Philippi; surrounded by tearful elders on the beach at Miletus; tossed about the prisoners’ hold in a storm-bound boat in the Mediterranean; or sitting in the room of a dingy lodging-house in Rome, chained to an Imperial Guard ?
There is no doubt that Paul’s spiritual stature and power may be most accurately assessed by a review of his prayer-life. But it is the substance of his prayers in which we are most interested. We want to know what kind of prayers passed the lips of this man of God.
We find that there is a striking absence of many of the characteristics common to the prayers of today. Absent the “vain repetition,” the meaningless generalities, the hackneyed phraseology; absent the deadening formality and the shameless selfishness; present in their place the most profound and intense spirituality! Paul’s prayers were strenuous exercises, entered into, as upon travail, that the precious seed sown might bear spiritual fruit unto everlasting life. A consideration of his recorded prayers in Ephesians 1, Ephesians 3, or Colossians 1 is sufficient proof that here is no mean intercessor, but one who by his powerful and passionate clinging to the Throne of Grace, demonstrated himself to be, like his Old Testament namesake, “head and shoulders above his fellows” (1 Sam. 9:2).
Paul’s prayers for the Philippians (1:9-11) has never quite received so much attention as the others, but it is no less worthy of our appreciation, showing as it does its author’s constant concern for the spiritual growth and maturity of his children in the faith.
The Increase of Intelligent Love
The burden of the Apostle’s prayer for these early believers was, first, “that their love might abound yet more and more in knowledge and all discernment” (v. 9, R.V.) Here is tacit acknowledgment that genuine Christian love did exist among these believers. But just as he himself was characterized by a godly discontentment with past achievement (“I count not myself to have apprehended,” ch. 3:13), so Paul was anxious that in his converts there should be a steady development of this virtue which is so vital to effective fellowship.
How indispensable it was in this instance will become evident when we recall the heterogeneous company which formed the core of the original Philippian church–the jailer (possibly a pensioned-off Roman soldier) and his family; the once demon-possessed slave girl; the devout and sensitive Lydia; Euodias and Syntyche, enthusiastic in their Master’s service, but finding it difficult to work in the same harness; Epaphroditus, gallant of spirit, but weakened in body; and Clement also, with others–a miracle of grace that they should have begun to love one another at all!
But it was not sufficient that their affection should increase, unless that affection was guided and tempered by well-balanced judgment–“in knowledge and all discernment.” You may love your child. You want him to be happy. But if he looks for his happiness through playing with an open razor, it is folly, not love, to allow him to continue. And is it not the case that in the Church today much is allowed to pass for “love” and “graciousness,” which at the best is little more than sentimentality, weakness, or indulgence?
The Development of Spiritual Discrimination
Having discriminated between indulgence and intelligence as a framework for their affection, Paul underlines his first petition with a kindred request. “That ye may approve things that are excellent” (v. 10)–translated elsewhere, and admirably so–“that ye may discriminate the transcendent.” The Apostle uses similar expressions to these in his prayer for the Colossians (Col. 1:9), suggesting that here is a need which is common to all Christians, irrespective of their background or circumstances–to be “filled with the knowledge of His will, in all wisdom and spiritual understanding.”
It is to be expected that even the unsaved will be able to distinguish between right and wrong, just as a shortsighted person can still detect black from white. But Paul’s prayer is not simply that these believers should be gifted with the ability to separate good from evil, but that they should be able to discriminate between what is good and what is even better. It is his heart’s desire for the Philippians that they should so cultivate the art of spiritual discernment as to enable them to fasten on the transcendent in life, and thus live more fully to the glory of God.
The absence of spiritual discrimination leads to much unbalanced judgment and extremism among the Lord’s people. My natural judgment tells me that to steal is wrong. It may not, however, help me to uncover and deal with any spirit of covetousness arising in my heart when I discover, say, that my brother has a greater gift than I. Natural judgment may be sufficient to assess the superficial worth of a preacher’s oratory. But it will require spiritual discrimination to recognize the presence of Holy Spirit unction in his words.
Ordinary intelligence can apprehend specific instruction in God’s Word. It will require the exercise of spiritual facilities to cope with many of the problems for which only broad lines of judgment have been prescribed. Let us seek for grace to nourish this “sense” of spiritual things, that we may order our own lives, and lead and judge in the affairs of His house in a manner becoming to His Name. “Give me now wisdom and knowledge that I may go out and come in before this people” (2 Chron. 1:10).
The Forming of Transparent Character
“That ye may be sincere, and void of offence” (v. 10). To be spiritually shrewd is not enough, unless the Christian’s discernment is focussed first upon himself. It is a mark of spiritual unbalance where a man reveals perception beyond the normal, and yet whose character cannot stand the light of day. Indeed, to be fully developed in one respect and underdeveloped in others is to be little more than a spiritual oddity.
Paul seems to underline the importance of character here, by relating it to “the day of Christ,” that day when each one of us shall have to give an account of himself at the Judgment Seat of Christ (2 Cor. 5:10; Rom. 14:10). Here is a remnant of material. In the half-light of a seller’s booth in an eastern market, it is difficult to see it properly. The prospective purchaser takes it out into the sunlight where he knows that if it exists, any flaw in the material will be revealed. “That ye may be sincere,” always living in the light of the sun. Or perhaps, in our modern workshops, there is a piece of metal about to be used for some special purpose. It is imperative that first of all it be subjected to the most rigorous of tests to prove that it is genuine, having neither flaw nor alloy.
This is the intense longing of Paul’s spirit for these Christians, that they should be sincere, the genuine article, being free from hypocrisy and guile. And not only sincere–for how possible it is for sincerity to become divorced from thoughtfulness and gentleness–but “void of offence,”–harmless, causing distress to none.
Consider, then, Paul’s aspirations for the members of this staunch little company of believers. He would that they would daily increase in warmhearted and wise-minded affection for one another; so exercising and sharpening their spiritual senses as to be able to pick out the pre-eminently important in life and follow after it, revealing–before the brethren, before “them that are without,” and ultimately before the Bema of Christ–transparency, genuineness, and gentleness of character that will be a true reflection of their wonderful Lord. In consequence of so doing there is no shadow of doubt but that they would thus cover their lives with “that harvest of righteousness, which is through Jesus Christ, unto the glory and praise of God.”