One of the most beautiful meditations on Christology in the Bible comes in the opening verses of Philippians 2.
As he writes to the church in Philippi to offer encouragement amid persecution, Paul exhorts his brothers and sisters to pattern their lives after the example of Christ, who, though coequal and coeternal with God the Father, performed the ultimate act of humility by taking on humanity and submitting to crucifixion. His death on the cross, of course, provides the path to his resurrection, vindication, and ultimate glorification alongside the Father.
In the same way, believers are encouraged to pursue humility, to work alongside Christ and fellow believers rather than falling into pride or disunity. Paul, who has presumably spent a considerable amount of time with the church at Philippi, has complete confidence in their ability to follow his instructions in his absence:
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, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure.
Philippians 2:12–13
Though these verses are familiar and even encouraging, they contain a couple of sticky questions.
Whose work?
In two verses, Paul alludes to two different agents involved in your salvation: you and God.
If the very thought of you being an agent in your own salvation is throwing up a red flag for you, just stick with me for a bit. I want to stay true to what Paul’s getting at here without missing any important details.
The key distinction is between working in and working out. The only reason that Paul can even suggest that believers have a role in “working out your own salvation” is because “it is God who works in you.” That is to say, the work of God in transforming you to the likeness of himself undergirds and enables your free, intentional decisions to do good works in your pursuit of righteousness.
It’s important to understand that when Paul talks about salvation, he’s not referring to that first moment of decision that we might call “salvation” in modern times. What Paul’s referring to is an entire process, one that begins when you turn to Christ and is only completed at the end of days, the final resurrection. You could get granular and divide it into discrete steps (typically justification, sanctification, and glorification), but I don’t think those hard boundaries are super necessary here; the point is that salvation is not a singular event, but a lifelong journey (perhaps why Paul words it as “us who are being saved” in 1 Corinthians 1:18).
So, there’s no suggestion here that your salvation is or ever could be dependent upon you. But perseverance is a necessary ingredient in the process, and while God gives you all you need to continue, he won’t override your free will.
That’s why we have warnings against falling away in Hebrews—because some, despite hearing the same message as their brothers and sisters, perhaps even despite encountering the risen Christ, choose to turn away from him, to neglect spiritual formation, and to effectively worship other gods instead of submitting to Yahweh.
Faith and good works come more naturally the more they’re practiced, but I wouldn’t think of them as a retirement account. Sure, early investments now will mature into a flourishing faith in years to come, but you don’t ever get to live off the dividends. There’s always more pruning to be done as God continues to shape you into his image; there is never a time for autopilot, never a reason to take your foot off the gas.
Though this sounds serious, Paul’s not worried about the church at Philippi. In fact, he has full confidence that they’ll persevere, not through their own merits or achievements, but through their humble submission and imitation of Jesus. He also knows the nature of the God to whom they submit; that he is gracious and merciful, abounding in steadfast love, never looking to catch his children in a loophole or withdraw his presence on a technicality.
His working in believers enables their working out of their own salvation. He has not left them to strive or suffer alone, but guides and insures their every step.
Why fear and trembling?
So…what’s with the “fear and trembling,” then?
These concepts are difficult to wrap modern minds around, perhaps because our culture is removed from some of the reverence and strict social structures that pervaded the ancient world.
But when I consider that the God Paul describes as “working in” me is the very same God who descended on Sinai in thunder and lightning, who spoke to Job out of the whirlwind, whose voice shook the threshold of the heavenly temple in Isaiah’s vision, things start to fall into place.
I am often drawn to the image of the Good Shepherd and the slain lamb; the humble savior who lays down his life for the sheep. And while these images are valid, they’re only part of the story.
Perhaps the best illustration of this concept occurs in Revelation 5. John sees a scroll with seven seals and weeps as he realizes no one is worthy to open it…that is, until one of the elders around the throne tells him, “Weep no more; behold, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has conquered, so that he can open the scroll and its seven seals.”
When John looks to see who the elder is indicating, though, he doesn’t see a lion; he sees “a Lamb standing, as though it had been slain.”
The symbolism is thick, but the message is clear: the lion who appears as a slain lamb is Jesus himself. Perhaps no two animals are less likely to be conflated than these two sworn enemies; yet, each image is somehow fulfilled in John’s throne room vision.
It’s a paradox and a mystery. How can all of these qualities—power, submission, glory, humility—be wrapped up together? How does it all make sense?
The fear that Paul describes isn’t terror, but supreme reverence; a right understanding of our status as we stand before the perfectly holy God. The images of storms, whirlwinds, and earthquakes in the Old Testament help us contextualize our own existence in light of his.
The God of my salvation is certainly a lamb, a Shepherd, a loving Father; but he is also a force of nature—The Force of Nature, the Creator of the universe, Being and Existence himself. To worship him rightly is to balance and embrace both the lion and the lamb, the mighty river and the babbling stream.
This is the God who walks alongside me as I seek to understand him more. What a privilege to know him and be called his child.