by Brant Bryan

Several years ago, I had the wonderful opportunity to visit Rome.  There were so many wonderful things to see, but the site that was the most memorable one to me was not one of the normal tourist spots.  In fact we had to ask many people where it was before we found a Roman who even knew of it.

We finally found it…an ancient prison in the historical ruins of Rome.  It is the Maritime Prison, the Prison for those who had been brought from over the seas to Rome.

The building is round.  About as large as the Richardson East library.  As you walk into the building you immediately feel the darkness and the damp coolness of a cave-like room.  The building is stone.  Ancient, thick stone.  A single door.  No windows.  In the center of the domed roof there is a single hole, about a yard in diameter.  Most of the light in this room comes from the opening in the roof.  A little spills in from the door.

Once your eyes adjust to the darkness you notice a rock-hewn stairway by the wall that leads down…and in the center of the floor there is an open hole, also about a yard in diameter.  It is directly below the opening in the roof.

When you walk down the stairs you enter a small room much smaller than the room above, hewn out of the rock of one of the Roman hills.  The rock is damp with the earth.  An earthy, musty swell assaults your senses.  It is very dark.  A little bit of light leaks down from the hole above you as it steals some light from the sky above the building above.

This prison has a single cell.  It is this room.  In the rock wall you notice a few old metal rings embedded in the wall.  There isn’t much else.

No drain on the floor.  No running water.  No latrine.  No protection from insects, rodents or pests.  Nothing but damp, dark rock.  

The room is clean now.  I can only imagine what it might have been like 2000 years ago when one prisoner after another had been kept in this place.

The records of the Prison indicate Paul was one of the prisoners here.  Most scholars agree that it is likely that at some point Paul lived in this room.  It is likely he was chained to this wall and lived in this darkness.

Many scholars also believe this is the very prison Paul was in when he wrote the letter to the Philippians.  Whether the Maritime Prison is the actual prison that housed him as he wrote this letter, or if it was another prison, isn’t the biggest point to me.  It was the fact that he was a captive.  But, being in that prison changed my perspective on this letter and Paul’s relationship with the believers in Philippi.

Paul had a message he needed to send, to give to people he loved in Philippi.  Paul was thankful while in the dark.  Paul was an encourager while he lived in the damp.  Paul was taking care of others when he had little light.  Paul was freeing others while he was a prisoner.  Paul was a saint while he is living in a hell.

Sometimes I find myself living in my own prisons, my own chains, my own dark places.  That is when I need Paul’s message.

When you read Philippians, think about where Paul was when he wrote this and what he says…Paul is confident….Paul is thankful…Paul has joy…Paul has lost everything for Jesus…Paul is being poured out like a drink offering…Paul remembers that Jesus gave up far more than Paul has…Paul has everything he needs...All the while he is living in chains in a hole in the ground.

Philippians will teach us, just as it taught the church in Philippi, how to live a life of joy,  purpose, and community regardless of our circumstances.

by Steve Kell

The Kell/Gerdes clan has an annual Christmas gift drawing pool.  All the adults draw a relative’s name for whom they bring a gift or gifts to the Christmas tree when the family-at-large convenes for Christmas.  But last year we had a debacle, a faux pas, a glitch in the system.  We messed up!

Our tradition involves watching each person open their gift or gifts until all presents are revealed.  In all the excitement, someone got…(gasp)…overlooked.  It’s true—everyone was having a great time until suddenly we realized that one of our family members did not have a gift—not one!  He was overlooked, not intentionally mind you, but for some reason, his name got lost in the holiday shuffle.  (No, it was not me; this is not about sour grapes.)  Fortunately there were no hard feelings, but you can imagine the chagrin and embarrassment of the gift selection committee when this violation of seasonal generosity was discovered. 

Even more importantly, as the “forgotten one” watched the whole process unfold, he must have felt…well…can you imagine what he felt like?  To not be noticed, recognized, acknowledged as part of the family.  Maybe you do know what that is like.  Maybe this happens more often among our spiritual family than we’d like to admit.  You know—walking into the building and feeling invisible; sitting in a class alive with chatter, but none of it coming your way; being in an assembly of worship associates instead of heart-bonded brothers and sisters.  I would venture to guess that this is not intentional.  I know many of my RE family and have both enjoyed rich fellowship and watched RE members seek each other out to talk, pray, and share life together.  I also am painfully aware of several RE members who, like the first century Jerusalem church Grecian widows, just get overlooked in the hubbub of daily activity. (Acts 6:1)

That’s why I appreciate Paul’s inclusiveness as he begins and ends his letter to the brethren in Philippi.  Note, “Paul and Timothy, bond-servants of Christ Jesus, to ALL the saints…including the overseers and deacons.” (1:1)  He doesn’t just write to the well-known, the prominent, the leadership.  No, this letter is for all the saints, and in case that group greeting was misunderstood at the beginning of the letter, note his closing thoughts:  “Greet EVERY saint in Christ Jesus.  The brethren who are with me greet you.  All the saints greet you…” (4:21-22)

Each brother gets noticed; each sister gets greeted; all are recognized and welcomed and loved.  That’s why it is important when we gather together as church, not simply to meet, or eat, but greet!  The greeting shows value, worth, importance, kindness, and membership.  I see you; I care for you; I’m interested in your life; I want you in my world.  So, when you notice a stranger among us, greet her warmly!  When you see a tween, a teen, or a toddler, greet them excitedly!  When you learn of a burden born by a brother, greet him tenderly.  When a senior saint struggles to make conversation with a world running way to fast, greet her respectfully. 

And if you don’t know exactly what to say, here’s a timely greeting for anyone at any time:  “Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.”   (1:2)  Why not begin this New Year by extending greetings to all!  (And by the way, this year at the Kell/Gerdes Christmas tree, everyone had a gift!)