John Calvin Commentary Philippians 2:27

"for indeed he was sick nigh unto death: but God had mercy on him; and not on him only, but on me also, that I might not have sorrow upon sorrow." — Philippians 2:27 (ASV)

But God had mercy on him. He had expressed the severity of the disease — that Epaphroditus had been sick, so that life was despaired of — in order that the goodness of God might shine forth more clearly in his restored health. It is, however, surprising that he should ascribe to God's mercy that Epaphroditus had his life prolonged, when he had previously declared that he desired death in preference to life (Philippians 1:23).

And what would be better for us than to depart from here to the kingdom of God, delivered from the many miseries of this world, and more especially, rescued from that bondage of sin in which he elsewhere exclaims that he is wretched (Romans 7:24), to attain the full enjoyment of that liberty of the Spirit, by which we become connected with the Son of God?

It would be tedious to enumerate all the things that tend to make death better than life for believers, and more to be desired. Where, then, is there any token of God's mercy, when it does nothing but prolong our miseries? I answer that all these things do not prevent this life from being, nevertheless, considered in itself an excellent gift of God.

More especially, those who live for Christ are happily engaged here in the hope of heavenly glory; and accordingly, as we had occasion to see a little while ago, life is gain to them. Besides, there is another thing to be considered: it is no small honor that is conferred upon us when God glorifies himself in us, for we ought to look not so much to life itself as to the purpose for which we live.

But on me also, lest I should have sorrow. Paul acknowledges that the death of Epaphroditus would have been bitterly painful to him, and he recognizes it as an instance of God’s sparing mercy towards himself that Epaphroditus had been restored to health. He does not, therefore, boast that he has the apathy (ἀπάθειαν) of the Stoics, as if he were a man of iron and exempt from human affections.

“What then!” someone will say, “Where is that unconquerable magnanimity—where is that indefatigable perseverance?” I answer that Christian patience differs widely from philosophical obstinacy, and still more from the stubborn and fierce sternness of the Stoics. For what excellence would there be in patiently enduring the cross, if there were in it no feeling of pain and bitterness?

But when the consolation of God overcomes that feeling, so that we do not resist but, on the contrary, give our back to the endurance of the rod (Isaiah 50:5), we then present to God a sacrifice of obedience that is acceptable to him. Thus Paul acknowledges that he felt some uneasiness and pain from his bonds, but that he nevertheless cheerfully endured these same bonds for the sake of Christ.

He acknowledges that he would have found the death of Epaphroditus an event hard to endure. However, he would eventually have brought his state of mind into accordance with the will of God, even though all reluctance might not have been fully removed. For we demonstrate our obedience only when we restrain our corrupt affections and do not yield to the weakness of the flesh.

Therefore, two things are to be observed:

1. In the first place, the dispositions that God originally implanted in our nature are not evil in themselves, because they do not arise from the fault of a corrupt nature but come from God as their Author; grief felt on the occasion of the death of friends is of this nature.
2. In the second place, Paul had many other reasons for regret in connection with the death of Epaphroditus, and these were not merely excusable but altogether necessary.

Firstly, this is invariably true for all believers: on the occasion of anyone's death, they are reminded of God's anger against sin.

But Paul was more affected by the loss sustained by the Church, which he saw would be deprived of an exceptionally good pastor at a time when good ones were so few in number.

Those who would have dispositions of this kind altogether subdued and eradicated do not picture to themselves merely men of flint, but men that are fierce and savage. In the depravity of our nature, however, everything in us is so perverted that, in whatever direction our minds are bent, they always go beyond bounds.

This is why there is nothing so pure or right in itself that it does not bring some contagion with it.

Indeed, Paul, being a man, would (I do not deny) have experienced something of human error in his grief. For he was subject to weakness and needed to be tested by temptations, so that he might have the opportunity for victory by striving and resisting.