Zachary Peters

Grace and Peace: What Paul’s Opening Words in Philippians 1 Are Really Saying

We finished our time in the book of Acts with Paul under house arrest. Today, we turn to one of the letters written during that same imprisonment — Philippians. This is a personal letter written to the church in Philippi, and both of those facts will shape how we read it. But this is a rich letter, full of great material for us.

Paul founded this church. The first new Christian was a woman named Lydia. Paul and Silas were also imprisoned in Philippi at one point. This letter reveals that Paul remained deeply interested in this church throughout his entire ministry (Philippians 4:15–16).

The City of Philippi

In Paul’s time, Philippi was an important and historic city in Macedonia. It held special privileges within the Roman Empire for several reasons. One was its location along the Egnatian Way, a major trade route connecting Rome to the east. Another was that Octavian — later given the title Augustus — won a decisive battle there and established a large military base. Roman soldiers and veterans likely populated the city, but many other people lived there as well. What they all seemed to share was pride in their Roman citizenship. Philippi became official Roman territory and was exempt from many of the taxes other cities in the empire had to pay.

Paul mentions many people in this letter. The vast majority are Gentile. A large number are women.

The Themes of Philippians

Paul writes about rejoicing throughout this letter — the word appears sixteen times. He also writes about imitation. But the chief theme of Philippians is encouragement. Paul is encouraging the Philippians to live as they have been taught and shown. By imitating Paul and Timothy, they can learn what it looks like to operate in Christ. He encourages them to live lives of humble sacrifice. The ultimate example of that is found in the life of Jesus Christ himself. If a Christian imitates Christ, they will be able to rejoice in any circumstance — and I know this to be true.

What is remarkable is that these themes are introduced right away — and creatively — in the very opening of the letter.

Reading Philippians 1:1–11

Paul and Timothy, servants of Christ Jesus,
To all the saints in Christ Jesus who are at Philippi, with the overseers and deacons:
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.
I thank my God in all my remembrance of you, always in every prayer of mine for you all making my prayer with joy, because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now. 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. It is right for me to feel this way about you all, because I hold you in my heart, for you are all partakers with me of grace, both in my imprisonment and in the defense and confirmation of the gospel. For God is my witness, how I yearn for you all with the affection of Christ Jesus. And it is my prayer that your love may abound more and more, with knowledge and all discernment, so that you may approve what is excellent, and so be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ, to the glory and praise of God.
(ESV)

We won’t cover everything in this passage today. But let’s start at the very beginning.

Slaves, Saints, and a Subversive Opening

From the very first line, Paul is doing something intentional. This is a standard personal letter format for the time: Sender — Recipient — Salutation. Not unlike what we might write today. But notice the differences.

The two other times Paul uses this format, he includes his title: apostle. Here he does not. And he does not distinguish himself from Timothy. Timothy was his student, but here they stand side by side, without distinction. They are equal.

The only title given to Paul and Timothy here is servant — doulos in the Greek. This is not just a hired hand. This is slavery. Yes, the kind that puts a bad taste in your mouth. Yet that is exactly how Paul describes himself and Timothy.

Then, while Paul gives proper honor to the leaders of the church, he begins with all the saints. The Greek word — hagioi, plural of hagios — means “holy ones.” And the full phrase is “saints in Christ Jesus.” The holiness here is derived and relational. They are holy because they are united to the one who is holy. The status belongs to Christ before it belongs to them. This letter is not just for the leaders or those in authority.

This is not an accident.

Paul is already expressing ideas that will surface as issues later in the letter. The vast majority of relationships inside the church are not defined by authority, superiority, or inferiority — but by equality in the work of Jesus, first and foremost. That may have been a challenging word in a city full of former Roman soldiers accustomed to chains of command.

Timothy and Paul are equal in their calling to be slaves of Jesus. The Philippians are unified as saints before any particular title is given. Human power structures take a back seat to unity in Christ.

Paul is already sketching a biblical posture of humility, unity, and service.

To be a slave to Jesus may carry all sorts of negative connotations — as it certainly did in the Roman Empire — but when the master is Jesus, it becomes an honor. He gifts us with authority to get the job done. Remembering that keeps us grounded in humility, because we cannot become arrogant in ourselves when we remember how and why we are here.

Grace Before Peace — and Why It Matters

Paul is not done using traditional structure to make a point.

“Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.”

In a standard Greek or Latin letter, the salutation would read: greetings to you. Paul substitutes grace — which in Greek looks so similar to greetings that if you read it quickly, you might miss it. But if you are hearing it read aloud, you catch it immediately. Something is different.

Then Paul adds peace — and here is the theological logic: grace, which comes from Christ, precedes peace, which is a state of being. You must receive the grace of Christ before you can have real peace. This idea becomes essential to the letter’s later development.

The Greek audience would have recognized the wordplay. The Jewish audience would have recognized peace as functioning like shalom — not merely the absence of conflict, but complete, encompassing well-being.

How many people — across all of history — have longed for peace and security? How many different ways have individuals, and entire nations, tried to obtain it? Paul is telling us here: every effort for peace outside the grace of Jesus is ultimately futile.

And he would know. He is writing this letter from prison, yet he writes with a peace that most people never find.

You have to get the order right. And Paul communicates this to the church in Philippi — and to us — by changing one single word.

Theology through creative structure. And all of it will find deeper meaning as we continue through the letter.

What This Means for Us

On Authority and Service

Yes, there is Godly order and authority in the church — pastors and elders sometimes carry a heavy burden — but that authority must never become a tool for earthly power, the kind we see in politics or the workplace. We are slaves first, who submit to one another and, as we will explore next week, to Godly wisdom and decision-making.

I grew up in a well-established church. The amount of drama I witnessed because of power struggles was remarkable. That’s my job. That is what I have always done. Why are they not listening to me? I heard it all — and I have heard it in every church I have ever worked in. More than half of that drama would disappear if we simply readjusted our understanding of spiritual authority.

If you want to be the boss at church, check yourself. I am not saying God cannot use you to help lead. I am not saying there is no responsible chain of command. But if title and authority are all you want, examine why. Serve first.

This posture of service — even slavery — needs to be built into who we are as Christians. A lot of church drama disappears when we understand who we are in Christ. A lot of hurt feelings become much smaller when we take up the humble mantle of slaves of the gospel. When we walk into church, are we looking to be served, or to serve? If we all walk in wanting to serve, we all get served. If we walk in wanting to be served, something starts to go wrong.

We see the ultimate expression of this in the Gospel of John:

“He laid aside his outer garments, and taking a towel, tied it around his waist. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was wrapped around him.” (ESV)

The King of Kings — Jesus — did the work of a servant for his disciples. Yes, he was God. Yes, he was their teacher. Yes, he was the reason they had upended their lives. And yes, all of that authority and power were channeled into serving his disciples in that moment. If Jesus served, we had better serve.

On Grace and Peace

Do not forget grace and peace — and do not forget the order.

You need grace. You are not perfect. You need grace to secure your soul. You need grace to connect with God your Creator. You need grace to connect with the resurrection — that remarkable thing we celebrated last week at Easter.

Jesus gives us that grace. We do not earn it. We do not deserve it. We do not demand it. Jesus gave it. Which is good news, because once we receive that grace, we receive peace.

It is reasonable and natural to want peace. Humans work toward it constantly. Clothing and shelter provide a kind of physical peace. Having enough food brings peace. We want peaceful relationships, a peaceful family, peaceful living conditions. We pursue health for peace. We work hard in hopes of financial peace.

But from experience I can say — those types of peace are fleeting. We were built for peace, but we exhaust ourselves trying to maintain it. And there are always events outside our control that shatter it.

What we need is help. And that help comes from God’s grace. Peace in the storm. Peace in the hospital room. Peace while applying for unemployment benefits. Peace when our plans fall apart. Peace, peace, wonderful peace — and all from a grace freely given to us.

“Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.”

Pick up the gifts your God has given you, and let them change your life.

Walk out of this room strengthened by grace and peace that have been gifted to you. My greatest fear is that we leave this place and that this Scripture — this message — becomes background noise, without a home. I simply want each one of you to truly receive that grace, and to carry a peace that surpasses all understanding.