Message: Seeing Beyond Crisis / Philippians 1:21-30

Today’s first Scripture reading comes from Philippians, a letter Paul wrote while he was in prison. The letter does not tell us why he was imprisoned, but the book of Acts gives us a picture of the kind of opposition he faced as he shared the gospel.

In Philippi, he freed an enslaved woman who had a spirit of divination, which her owners used to make money. When they realized they had lost their source of income, they turned against Paul and Silas. The two men were beaten and thrown into prison. This story reminds us that the Christian faith often challenged systems that profited from the suffering of others.

Paul did not know what would happen to him. He could even face execution. In that uncertainty, he wrote about feeling caught between life and death. And yet, even in the middle of this crisis, the centre of his life remained clear. He said, “For to me, living is Christ and dying is gain.”

When a crisis feels too large to control, it can easily narrow our vision. We see this in what is often called eco-anxiety or climate anxiety, especially among younger generations. Many young people wonder what kind of world is waiting for them as they hear more about wildfires, floods, extreme heat, and other effects of climate change. Here in Canada, this concern is growing. A 2023 Canadian mental health resource reported that 75 percent of people living in Canada considered climate change a global emergency. Statistics Canada also reported in 2023 that half of Canadians were concerned about the risk of weather-related emergencies or natural disasters. 

When a crisis feels overwhelming and seems to fill the whole horizon, an important question is what we hold on to. One powerful example comes from one of the darkest moments in human history. Primo Levi was an Italian Jewish writer who survived Auschwitz. He was involved in the anti-fascist resistance and was arrested in December 1943. In February 1944, he was deported to Auschwitz. There, he lost his name, his freedom, and his dignity. The camp was not just a place that imprisoned the body. It was a system designed to break people down until they no longer saw themselves as fully human.

After surviving Auschwitz, Levi wrote about what he had seen and experienced. Looking back, he reflected that even when everything has been taken away, even when a person is humiliated and death is near, one ability can still remain. He says in his book, Survival in Auschwitz, “We are slaves, deprived of every right, exposed to every insult, condemned to certain death, but we still possess one power, and we must defend it with all our strength for it is the last - the power to refuse our consent.”

This does not mean denying reality. It means refusing to accept a reality that tries to reduce human beings to less than human. In the midst of crisis, Levi knew what he needed to hold on to. It was the power to refuse to let his circumstances define him. His sight did not remain fixed on the crisis before him. He refused to let the crisis become the whole of his reality.

Paul was also someone who knew what to hold on to. For him, it was Christ. Both Levi and Paul show us what it means to face reality honestly without letting that reality define or control their lives.

For Paul, the words “to live is Christ” were not just about the comfort of knowing that he would go to heaven when he died. Faith in Christ changed the way he saw his life in relation to others. It made him ask whose life might be strengthened by his presence, and whose faith and joy might grow because he remained. The more Paul held on to Christ, the more his vision moved beyond himself.

Sometimes we make Christ too small. We understand Christ only as our personal Saviour and stop there. Of course, Christ is Paul’s Saviour. But if we keep reading Philippians, we meet a much greater vision of Christ. Christ is not just our personal Saviour. Christ is the Saviour of all creation.

This belief allowed him to see the people and the world around him. Because God’s salvation is so great, the faith and joy of the people around him mattered even more. Believing in eternity does not make today less important. It makes today more precious. Paul says, “I am hard pressed between the two: my desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better; but to remain in the flesh is more necessary for you.”

When people are diagnosed with a serious illness, they naturally think about their own health and treatment. But at the same time, many also think about their loved ones. When I was little, my mother was diagnosed with a serious illness. There was a time when her life was in danger. Later, she told me that what worried her most was not her own death, but her young children, my brother and me. Thankfully, she came through that difficult time and is still alive today. Her words have helped me understand Paul’s heart in this passage.

Paul does not want to remain alive simply because he is afraid to die. He says that being with Christ would be better for him. Yet he realizes that remaining alive is more necessary for his fellow believers in the Philippian congregation. His attention moves from what happens to him after death to the people with whom he is still called to live.

In short, “living is Christ” means that our life is centred on Christ and shaped by his love. It means living in relationship with Christ and participating in his work of love and reconciliation for people and for all creation. This faith becomes a deep root that holds us in the midst of challenges because it allows us to see beyond what is happening right in front of us. A crisis can narrow our vision, but Christ expands it. Christ helps us see our lives, other people, and the world around us in light of God’s larger purpose.

Today, we are facing many kinds of crises. Climate change is bringing more severe heat, wildfires, floods, and droughts. Biodiversity loss is threatening many species and ecosystems. War is destroying lives and communities. Economic uncertainty is making life harder for many people. Social division is making it more difficult for us to live together. Some people are even losing the places they call home.

Christian faith does not just tell us that everything will be fine. It calls us to face these realities honestly while also helping us see beyond them toward hope.

Paul did not have all the answers from the beginning. He admits, “I do not know which I prefer.” Yet in the middle of that uncertainty, he held on to Christ. In Christ, he looked again at the questions before him. Eventually, his vision moved beyond himself toward the Philippian community.

The same can happen with us. We do not need to have every answer right away. We can face our crises honestly, notice how fear may narrow our vision, and ask how Christ may be opening our eyes to see more.

Then, our questions can begin to change. Instead of asking only how to escape a crisis, we can ask who we are called to care for, what kind of people we are becoming, and what Christ is calling us to do now.

Crisis can narrow our vision, but Christ opens our eyes to see beyond it.

Paul says, “For to me, living is Christ.” This does not mean ignoring the crises of the world. It means facing them honestly without letting them determine the meaning of our lives.

May we confess with Paul, “For to me, living is Christ,” and may this faith help us see beyond our crises and discern how we are called to live together.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

Rev. Min Hwang