SERVANTS AND SAINTS (PHILIPPIANS 1:1–2) | To Live is Christ | 1

INTRODUCTION TO THE SERIES: TO LIVE IS CHRIST

We begin today a journey through one of the most Christ-centered books in all of Scripture: Paul’s letter to the Philippians.

This is not a theological treatise like Romans. It’s not a corrective rebuke like Galatians. It is a pastoral letter written by a suffering man to a faithful church—a church he dearly loves. And even though Paul is in chains, the tone of the letter isn’t despair. It’s joy. It’s Christ. It’s victory through surrender.

Paul is writing from a Roman prison. Likely chained to a guard, likely aware that his execution is looming. And yet this short letter mentions joy over a dozen times. Why? Because Paul is not clinging to comfort or survival. He’s clinging to Christ.

This letter was written to the believers in Philippi—a Roman colony in Macedonia. It was the first church planted in Europe, birthed in Acts 16.

You remember the story:

A businesswoman named Lydia is converted by the riverside.

A demon-possessed slave girl is set free.

A hardened jailer comes to faith through an earthquake and a midnight hymn sing.

From this unlikely group, God builds a church. And now, roughly a decade later, Paul writes to them from prison to encourage their partnership in the gospel, to exhort them toward unity and humility, and to remind them that true life is not found in worldly gain but in Christ alone.

The theme of this book can be summed up in Paul’s words in chapter 1, verse 21: “For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.”

That’s what this series is about.

Living is not about getting what you want. Living is Christ. Dying is not defeat. Dying is gain. Because when Christ is your treasure, there is no circumstance that can steal your joy.

SERMON INTRODUCTION: SERVANTS AND SAINTS (PHILIPPIANS 1:1–2)

Now, before we rush past the greeting and get to the "meat" of the letter, we need to realize something: there is no fluff in Scripture. Every word is God-breathed. Every phrase is intentional. That includes how Paul introduces himself and how he addresses the church.

The opening verses of Philippians are not mere formalities. They are a theological anchor. Before Paul tells them to rejoice, before he calls them to unity, before he speaks of suffering or service—he reminds them of who they are and who their God is.

Paul doesn’t start with exhortation. He starts with identity.

And that’s what we need today.

In a world that tells you to "find yourself," Scripture calls you to lose yourself in Christ. This greeting is not about Paul. It’s about the God who saves slaves and makes them saints.

So let’s open the letter and see what it means to belong to Christ—body and soul, in life and in death.

Philippians 1:1–2 ESV

1 Paul and Timothy, servants of Christ Jesus, To all the saints in Christ Jesus who are at Philippi, with the overseers and deacons: 2 Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

Let’s pray

Paul and Timothy, Servants of Christ Jesus

"Paul and Timothy, servants of Christ Jesus…"

The letter opens with two names—Paul and Timothy—and one identity: servants of Christ Jesus.

The Greek word used here is doulos. That’s not a polite word. It means slave.

This is not Paul being modest. He’s not downplaying his apostleship. He is declaring a theological reality:

"You are not your own, for you were bought with a price." (1 Corinthians 6:19b–20a)

Paul could have appealed to his authority. In many other letters, he introduces himself as “Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God.” But not here. Here he writes not with his resume, but with his shackles. This letter is about joy in Christ, unity in the gospel, and contentment in all circumstances. So he begins where all joy and all identity must begin: submission to Christ.

He calls himself and Timothy slaves of Jesus because that is who they are. That is what every believer is.

"Do you not know that if you present yourselves to anyone as obedient slaves, you are slaves of the one whom you obey, either of sin, which leads to death, or of obedience, which leads to righteousness?" (Romans 6:16)

There are only two options: You are either a slave to sin or a slave to Christ. There is no neutral ground.

The modern evangelical imagination bristles at that language. We want to be partners, not property. We want Jesus to save us, not own us. But salvation is not the offer of spiritual autonomy. It is a transfer of ownership. From the domain of darkness into the kingdom of His beloved Son (Col. 1:13).

And hear me clearly:

Slavery to Christ is not bondage.

Slavery to Christ is freedom.

Because only in Christ do we find the chains that break every other chain.

The world says, "Follow your heart." The gospel says, "Deny yourself."

The world says, "Be free." The gospel says, "Be His."

And when you are His, you are truly free.

"But now that you have been set free from sin and have become slaves of God, the fruit you get leads to sanctification and its end, eternal life." (Romans 6:22)

Why does Paul name Timothy here?

Timothy was more than an assistant. He was a son in the faith, a co-laborer, a man forged in gospel fire. By including him, Paul reminds the church in Philippi of their shared ministry, their shared love, and their shared submission to Christ.

This isn’t about rank. It’s about role. It’s about posture.

The leaders of the early church did not exalt themselves as kings. They bowed as slaves. That is the mark of faithful leadership.

Application:

You don’t belong to your sin anymore.

You don’t belong to your past.

You don’t belong to your feelings, your failures, or even your fruitfulness in ministry.

You belong to Christ.

So stop resisting His Lordship. Stop trying to be the master of your own fate. That’s not freedom. That’s death.

Be what Paul was. Be what Timothy was. Be a doulos.

And in being owned by Christ, you will find the only identity that cannot be shaken.

To All the Saints in Christ Jesus

"To all the saints in Christ Jesus who are at Philippi, with the overseers and deacons…"

From servants to saints.

That’s how Paul moves. That’s how God works.

After identifying himself and Timothy as slaves, Paul turns to the recipients of the letter: all the saints in Christ Jesus who are at Philippi.

Let’s slow down and consider the power of that greeting.

Who are the Saints?

We tend to think of saints as super-spiritual Christians—the kind who have statues, miracles, or books named after them. But in the New Testament, saints simply refers to all true believers. It means "holy ones."

The Greek word is hagios — set apart, consecrated, made holy.

And here’s the key: they are saints not because of their behavior, but because of their position.

"To all the saints in Christ Jesus."

That preposition changes everything.

You are not a saint because you are sinless. You are a saint because you are in Christ.

In other words:

Your holiness is not achieved.

It is received.

This is the doctrine of imputed righteousness. The righteousness of Christ is credited to your account, not because you earned it, but because Christ earned it in your place.

"And because of Him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption." (1 Corinthians 1:30)

So Christian, stop calling yourself a failure when God calls you a saint. Stop living like a sinner when Christ has declared you holy.

You are not trying to become a saint. If you are in Christ, you are one.

At Philippi: Saints in a Place

Paul doesn’t just say "to the saints in Christ." He says, "to the saints in Christ who are at Philippi."

That reminds us: holiness does not remove you from the world. It roots you in a place. You are not just a Christian in theory. You are a Christian where you live.

This letter was written to real people in a real place—a Roman colony known for its pride, status, and patriotism. The Philippian believers lived in a culture that idolized Caesar and mocked suffering. And yet Paul calls them saints.

You don’t have to escape your culture to be holy. You have to be in Christ while living in your city.

With the Overseers and Deacons

Paul also includes "the overseers and deacons."

Even in the greeting, Paul acknowledges the structure of the local church. This is not incidental. It’s biblical.

Overseers (or elders) are those called to shepherd, teach, and lead the congregation.

Deacons are those called to serve the practical needs of the body.

Together, these offices demonstrate that the church is not a free-for-all. It is ordered, accountable, and local.

The New Testament assumes church membership, leadership, and discipline. There is no category for a Christian who floats through life without being tethered to a church.

The saints are not an abstract group. They are covenant members of a gathered body under qualified leadership.

Application:

If you are in Christ, your identity is secure. You are a saint.

If you are a saint, you belong to a local church. Don’t go it alone.

If you are under shepherds, pray for them. Honor them. Submit to them as unto the Lord.

And remember this:

Your sainthood is not your achievement. It’s Christ’s accomplishment, gifted to you by grace.

Live like it.

Keep i mind as we move to verse 2:

Paul writes to all the saints. Not the elite. Not the perfect. Not the visible or well-known. All who are in Christ.

If Christ has claimed you, then you are set apart. You are made holy. You are His.

So walk worthy of that calling. Not to earn sainthood. But because it's already yours.

You are not who the world says you are. You are who Christ says you are.

And in Him, you are a saint.

Grace to You and Peace from God

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

Don’t skip over the greeting.

This isn’t filler. This isn’t a throwaway. This is gospel.

Paul is not wishing them well. He is declaring the theological foundation of their faith and life: grace and peace.

These are not sentimental wishes. These are spiritual realities. And the order matters.

First: Grace.

Grace is the fountainhead. It is the beginning of all Christian life, the cause of our salvation, the reason for our calling, and the power for our obedience.

Grace (charis) is God’s unmerited favor—but it’s more than favor. It is active. It saves. It transforms. It sustains.

"By grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God." (Ephesians 2:8)

You weren’t just helped by grace. You were rescued by it. You didn’t cooperate with grace. You were overthrown by it.

God did not wait for your permission. He initiated. He called. He justified.

Grace means God acts first, decisively, sovereignly.

This grace is not generic. It is blood-bought. It flows from the cross of Christ. And it is applied to all who are in Him.

Second: Peace.

Peace (eirēnē) follows grace.

Not the world's idea of peace—temporary relief or emotional calm. This is peace with God, objective and unshakable.

"Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ." (Romans 5:1)

This is the peace of reconciliation.

You were once an enemy of God. A rebel. A child of wrath. But by the grace of Christ, you are now at peace with the Judge of the universe.

That peace is not a mood. It is not based on your feelings. It is a settled status: declared righteous, adopted, reconciled.

And because you have peace with God, you can have peace in every circumstance.

"And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." (Philippians 4:7)

From Whom?

"…from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ."

This grace and peace are not from Paul. They are not conjured by emotion. They come from God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

This is a Trinitarian declaration. It points us to the source of salvation:

Planned by the Father.

Accomplished by the Son.

Applied by the Spirit.

Paul is reminding us: salvation is God-initiated, God-driven, God-sustained.

You didn’t earn grace. You didn’t negotiate peace. You received them because the Father chose you, and the Son bled for you.

If you are in Christ, grace is your starting point. You don’t work for God’s love. You work from it.

If you are in Christ, peace is your inheritance. Your war with God is over. The verdict is in. Justified.

If you are in Christ, you are secure. Because grace and peace don’t come from you. They come from God.

So stop striving for approval. Stop searching for security. You already have it.

Grace is yours. Peace is yours. Because Christ is yours.

This is how Paul begins. Not with rules. Not with demands.

But with reality:

God has shown you grace.

God has made peace with you.

So before Paul ever tells you how to live for Christ, he reminds you what Christ has done for you.

Grace and peace. Not feelings. Facts.

Let that anchor you. Let that shape you.

Let that send you.

To live is Christ. To receive grace. To walk in peace. To never be the same again.

You’ve heard the greeting.

Not a single command. Not a single warning. Just two verses. And yet those two verses demand your response.

Because this is no ordinary introduction. This is a declaration of war against self-rule.

Paul writes as a slave. He writes to saints. He writes under the banner of grace and peace. And if you have ears to hear, then the invitation is clear:

Die to yourself. Come to Christ. And live.

Repent.

Repent of your delusions of autonomy. Repent of the pride that says you belong to yourself. Repent of chasing the world, pretending you can wear the name of Christ without bowing the knee to His Lordship.

You don’t need self-discovery. You need self-denial.

The gospel is not a motivational message to boost your self-worth. It is the death sentence to your flesh. And the resurrection of your soul.

So stop flirting with sin. Stop pretending grace is cheap. Stop living like peace with God is a theory instead of a blood-bought reality.

Believe.

Believe that Christ is enough. Believe that His grace is sufficient to save even you. Believe that the righteousness of Christ covers every failure, every shame, every scar.

You are not too broken. You are not too far gone. You are not too dirty.

Come to Him.

He saves slaves. He makes saints. He gives grace. He brings peace.

"Whoever comes to Me I will never cast out." (John 6:37)

Bow.

Bow before Christ. Bow before the One who died and rose again. Bow before the rightful King who doesn’t just save you—He owns you.

And that is your only safety. That is your only peace.

There is no refuge from Him. There is only refuge in Him.

So fall at His feet. Cry out for mercy. Submit to His rule.

"If anyone would come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow Me." (Luke 9:23)

To Live Is Christ.

That’s the anthem of this book. And it begins with death to self.

To be a servant. To be a saint. To rest in grace. To walk in peace.

This isn’t self-help. This is resurrection.

Come and die. Come and live.

Come to Christ. Now.