In the Canterbury Tales, a rhetorical question is famously posed. It says this, if gold rust, what should iron do? If gold will rust, what will happen to iron? And what this saying is asking is if blemish or decay can happen to the most precious of metals, what's stopping it from affecting that which is more prone to rust? In the ancient Greco-Roman world, but also in the ancient Jewish world, disciples were taught to imitate. This is your master, this is your model, this is your goal to your iron. If you don't know this, the entire educational heartbeat of that time was imitation. One commentary, Ben Worthington, says this, imitation was the glue that held the social order in a harmonious whole. Because imitation was believed to be the only upward mobility of that time. So it's here you learn how to read, how to survive, how to live, everything. So imitation was really treated as an idea of becoming, becoming. So, but what happens then when the gold standard you were supposed to imitate a road upward but downward? What happens when your gold standard goes down? What happens if rust is intentional? What if our model was growing in rust by being despised, imprisoned, losing reputation, and rather than becoming, there was an undoing? You see, what if our model was in deep adversity like so many in our city today, but in some unimaginable way was able to rejoice? This is Paul the apostle in Philippians chapter 1. He is our imitation model for today, he is a man who says, 1 Corinthians 11, imitate me as I also imitate Christ. If you remember, this is the lens upon which we're looking through the book of Philippians, a book which poses gold models that we are to become. We are to imitate. And our verses for today possess a chapter which has two opposites, great adversity, and for some wild reason, great happiness. So today we examine through a grid drawing, if you remember that from last week of sorts, a grid drawing of Paul's approach, Paul's response, his objectives, and his joy in adversity, in suffering. And we ask, does my heart look like this? We ask, can my heart imitate Paul's in adversity? Now, as probably so many know, if you're familiar with the New Testament at all, our author is in prison. Acts 24 tells us why. For we have found this man, Paul, our model, to be a plague, to be an agitator among all throughout the Roman world, and a ringleader of the sect of Nazarenes, which were the early followers of Jesus. He even tried to desecrate the temple, and so we apprehended him. What made him a plague, an agitator? It was a desire to make much of Jesus, and Acts Now, I don't want to move on too quickly because I know that for a lot of Christians, Paul in prison, author of the New Testament, this is old news. But we need to sit with this because his future is unsure. We need to know that his neck is on the chopping block or you or I will not read Philippians correctly. As these words or any words of a dead man walking always carry greater weight. Okay, so his incarceration then or prison then was obviously different than it was today as it wasn't punishment. Just so you know, prison then was a waiting room for execution. This past week, many of us have been glued to certain city official websites or watch duty apps about our own possible evacuations and details. It's reading those documents. I was reading those documents differently than my family out of state would. Philippians has to be read like that, with the same sense of urgency. Is what's happening to Paul going to happen to us? What's at risk? How should we feel and think about what's happening to the Christian faith? What does this prison say about Paul's message? So when the Philippian church got this letter about Paul's adversity and their own adversity, you can almost imagine to hear them all saying, hurry, hurry, come in here. Something's arrived. Something's arrived. And you can see them huddled, biting their nails, hearts pounding, asking what's going on? What will happen? And then collective church, you hear some of the most shocking news read by the overseer or the letter carrier to ever be written by a man in chains. Verse 12 of chapter 1. Now I want you to know, brothers and sisters, that what has happened to me has actually advanced the gospel. So that it may become known throughout the whole imperial guard and to everyone else that my imprisonment, my adversity is because I am in Christ. To me, these are shocking words from a doomed man. These are not words of somebody drowning in discouragement. Quite the opposite. Today, we'll see him express words of triumph and confidence, and yes, even joy. Paul has an approach to adversity that enables him to experience genuine joy, even in the face of impossible odds. So please, Collective Church, do not miss this. Do not miss this. He's celebrating behind bars. How? Why? What can we make of this today in our own burning city? Is what worked for Paul, will it work for you or I, for us right now? Can we see enough from his own writing to imitate during our own trying times today? And the answer is yes. Yes. My family and I used to love going on sea glass walks on the New England coast. Has anybody ever done that before? Gone up and down? A couple of you know what that is. If you don't know what seaglass is, it's trash. It's literal trash that has been formed by waves and sand and tumbling on the ocean floor for decades. For decades, which produces these beautiful glass stones which wash up on shore. That's my simple plan for today. That's my plan for all of us. We're going to be walking in the aftermath of Paul's own storms and debris and tumbling, picking up these beautiful bits and pieces of sea glass for our own encouragement. And the first bit of sea glass we're picking up is this in verse 12 again. Look at this. That what has happened to me. That what has happened to me. Paul is calling attention to himself as a sufferer. This has happened to me, is what he's saying. Church, this is good. This is good. There's absolutely nothing wrong with calling attention to ourselves as sufferers. In fact, I would say we must do that with our own adversity, and we must call it what it is. I sadly believe and think that there's a view of Christianity that believes that when we face adversity with joy, that it's only achievable by sticking our head in the sand, as if we're like spiritual ostriches. As we come to a church gathering and apparently we sing these happy, clappy songs while our city is burning, that somehow for Christians, ignorance is bliss. But hear me, that is not the biblical message at all. Our biblical authors never minimize adversity, and we mustn't as well. So real joy is not a matter of pretending that hardship doesn't affect us, but that hardship can't destroy us. So like Paul, we can and we must say, my health is not good. We can and we must say, our finances are bad. My marriage is in trouble. Our city is on fire. My anxiety is through the roof. My shell shock is real. But also, we must imitate Paul as we must not leave it there. The worst thing that somebody can do is allow adversity or suffering to have the last word. So ask yourselves, when tribulation or trial lurks in your life, do you let it have the last word? Do we allow a spin out? All the things that we in our culture value, freedom, career, community, comfort, material possessions of any kind, has all been stolen from Paul, taken. And yet, he doesn't elaborate his discomfort so as to complain, grumble, not even a stench of self-pity. In fact, like I've said a million times before, he's triumphing. Watch what he does. Look at verse 12. That what has happened to me has actually advanced the gospel so that it has become known throughout the whole imperial guard. The most precious and the most powerful and the most unbelievable Christian missionary in the history of Christianity was imprisoned. And like Sarah's barren womb, David's sling, Gideon's small army, and the cross of Christ, Paul concentrates our gaze on the chained wrists.