Chuck Larsen

Not everyone liked Paul, and that should not surprise us. Not everyone liked Jesus either. There will always be those who resist, question, or even oppose, regardless of our intentions. Paul experienced this in nearly every church he planted. Some rose up to challenge his teaching and even his character. In certain cases, their opposition went further. They preached the same gospel Paul preached, but they did so out of jealousy and envy, even wishing him harm. It is a strange picture: the right message delivered with the wrong motive. Yet Paul did not retaliate. He did not spend his energy defending his reputation. Instead, he wrote that he rejoiced because Christ was being preached. At the same time, he acknowledged those who supported him, those who preached “out of love, knowing that I am put here for the defense of the gospel” (Philippians 1:16). Paul understood that while the message matters deeply, the motive behind it matters as well.

This issue moves quickly from the pages of Scripture into everyday life. It is possible to do the right thing for the wrong reason. We can serve, give, or even speak truth while quietly seeking recognition, comparison, or advantage. I say this carefully, because I have noticed how easily my own motives can shift without much warning. Love, in the Biblical sense, is not simply a feeling. It is self-sacrificial action rooted in a desire for the good of others. It is possible to give without love, but it is not possible to truly love without giving. When envy and rivalry shape our motives, even good actions can feel hollow. Scripture reminds us that “if I give away all I have… but have not love, I gain nothing” (1 Corinthians 13:3). Motives and actions are closely tied together. The right motive leads to the right kind of action, while the wrong motive slowly drains the life out of what we do.

The New Testament consistently points us back to the heart, where motives are formed and examined. Paul writes, “Our purpose is to please God, not people. He alone examines the motives of our hearts” (1 Thessalonians 2:4). That is both sobering and reassuring. Others may misunderstand us, but God sees clearly. Paul even says, “I call God as my witness—he knows my heart!” (2 Corinthians 1:23). Jesus took this even further, teaching that sin begins internally. “Everyone who is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment,” and “everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart” (Matthew 5:22, 28). Through Christ, God addresses not only what we do but why we do it. His love reshapes the inner life, forming motives that reflect His own character, where actions flow from a heart aligned with Him.

Beginning at verse 15 of chapter 1, Paul instructs the Philippians regarding those who preach Christ but do so from wrong motives. There is some discussion about the order of verses 15, 16, and 17, since translations such as the King James Version and the New American Standard Bible present them differently. Yet the meaning remains clear. These verses reveal six flawed motives behind what appears to be faithful ministry. Paul does not deny that Christ is being proclaimed, but he exposes the heart behind the proclamation. As I considered these motives, I could not help but notice how familiar they feel. They are not confined to the first century. They are alive and well today. I admit this with some hesitation, because it is easier to recognize these patterns in others than in myself, yet they seem to surface more often than I would like to admit.

The first motive is envy, a competitive spirit that seeks to outdo others. Closely tied to it is strife, which naturally follows jealousy. Gromacki explains that strife can arise even in theological discussions, when people argue over wording or align themselves with certain leaders. Paul addressed this in Corinth, where “there is quarreling among you” (1 Corinthians 1:11). Envy leads to strife, and strife leads to divisions, another motive Paul identifies. People draw lines, form groups, and defend positions with surprising intensity. Then comes insincerity, where outward religious activity masks a desire for reputation rather than genuine devotion. Another motive involves affliction, where rivalry deepens into a desire to harm others. The image is vivid, like chains rubbing painfully against a prisoner’s skin. Finally, there is the use of religion as a cloak, a way to hide personal sin while appearing righteous. It is a sobering list. I say this carefully, because I have seen traces of each in my own thinking, often dressed up in language that sounds respectable.

The New Testament continually brings the focus back to the heart. Paul writes that some preach Christ “out of rivalry, not sincerely” (Philippians 1:17), yet he still rejoices that Christ is proclaimed. At the same time, Scripture calls for something deeper. Jesus warned against outward religion that hides inward corruption, saying, “You clean the outside of the cup and the plate, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence” (Matthew 23:25). He also taught that “from within, out of the heart of man, come evil thoughts” (Mark 7:21). Through Christ, the issue of motive is addressed at its source. God does not merely refine our actions; He reshapes our hearts. As Paul writes, “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation” (2 Corinthians 5:17). In Him, the message and the motive are brought together, forming a life that reflects both truth and sincerity.

Paul spends part of Philippians chapter 1 addressing those who preach Christ from wrong motives. Some speak from goodwill, others from envy and rivalry, yet his conclusion is surprising. He writes in Philippians 1:18, “What then? Only that in every way, whether in pretense or in truth, Christ is proclaimed, and in that I rejoice. Yes, and I will rejoice!” His focus is not on defending himself or exposing others, but on the simple fact that the message of Christ is advancing. Translators have struggled to capture the richness of Paul’s expression of joy. The United Bible Societies handbook suggests phrases such as “my abdomen is sweet,” “my insides are cool,” or “I dance within.” It is a vivid picture of deep, settled gladness. Paul is not pretending to be cheerful. He is genuinely filled with joy because the Good News is being proclaimed, even by those who do not care for him.

That perspective feels far removed from the way we often respond to criticism or opposition. When someone questions us or works against us, our attention tends to narrow quickly. I say this carefully, because I have noticed how easily my own thoughts can shift from purpose to self-defense. Paul refuses to let that happen. He is in prison, facing the possibility of execution, yet he remains focused on what truly matters. His joy is not tied to his comfort or reputation. Richison captures this well when he says that those trying to hurt Paul were actually contributing to his joy. That is a remarkable reversal. It suggests that circumstances and even people do not have final authority over our inner life. Paul’s confidence allows him to remain steady. He is rejoicing in the present and fully expects to continue rejoicing in the future. Motives, strife, and personal attacks do not get the last word.

This kind of joy is rooted in something far deeper than personality or optimism. It is anchored in the work of Jesus Christ. Paul’s thinking is shaped by the reality of the cross, the resurrection, and the ongoing work of God. As he writes elsewhere, “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice” (Philippians 4:4). That joy is not based on favorable conditions but on a faithful Savior. He also reminds believers, “We know that for those who love God all things work together for good” (Romans 8:28). Through Christ, even opposition can be redirected into something meaningful. Jesus Himself endured hostility and yet remained committed to His mission, entrusting Himself to the Father. In that same pattern, Paul’s joy remains intact, not because life is easy, but because Christ remains central.

The salvation, or deliverance, that both Paul and Job expected might better be described as vindication in the presence of their accusers. Job’s friends insisted that his suffering must have come from hidden sin, attempting to defend God by accusing Job. Yet God needs no defense. In the end, God Himself corrected Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar, and Job was vindicated. He was restored and blessed beyond what he had lost. Paul sees his own situation in a similar light. Though imprisoned unjustly and surrounded by accusations, he is confident that God will set things right. His hope is not rooted in immediate release or comfort, but in the certainty that truth will ultimately prevail. Paul’s confidence echoes Job’s quiet resolve that God will have the final word, even when circumstances suggest otherwise.

This perspective challenges how we view injustice in our own lives. When misunderstood, criticized, or treated unfairly, it is natural to want to defend ourselves and correct every false impression. I say this carefully, because I have rehearsed a few imaginary speeches in my mind that would settle matters quite efficiently, at least in my estimation. Yet Paul points us in a different direction. In Philippians 1:19 he writes that his situation will turn out for his deliverance “through your prayers and the help of the Spirit of Jesus Christ.” Vindication is not something he forces; it is something he entrusts to God. The prayers of others matter deeply. They rise as a testimony of shared faith and love. Scripture reinforces this truth: “The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working” (James 5:16). Prayer is not a last resort but a vital connection to the One who sees clearly what we often see only in part.

Alongside prayer stands the provision of the Spirit of Jesus Christ. As Gordon Fee notes, the word translated “help” carries the idea of supply or provision. God does not merely assist from a distance; He provides what is needed from within. Paul speaks of this confidence elsewhere: “He who supplies the Spirit to you… does so by hearing with faith” (Galatians 3:5). The New Testament consistently presents the Spirit as the One who strengthens, sustains, and equips believers. Jesus Himself promised, “I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Helper, to be with you forever” (John 14:16). In Christ, vindication is not left uncertain. God’s provision through His Spirit ensures that what is lacking is supplied. The outcome rests not in human effort, but in the faithful work of God, who sees, knows, and ultimately sets all things right.