Commentary on Philippians 1:21-30

“Whether by life or by death” (Philippians 1:20): For Paul, this was not theoretical. He wrote his letter to the Philippians while detained in Roman custody. “No one comes out—or precious few, at least,” the renowned orator Libanius would complain about the prison in Antioch a few centuries later.¹ Across the Roman Empire, prisons were notorious as places of hunger, disease, violence, and exposure. Death was a realistic prospect.

We should resist the temptation to spiritualize Paul’s incarceration. Philippians is a prison letter, written under conditions of terrifying constraint. English translations often mask the raw and brutal concreteness of Paul’s circumstances. When he speaks of his “chains” (desmoi, Philippians 1:7, 13–14, 21), this is not an ornate metaphor for imprisonment. One clue that allows archaeologists to identify the remains of ancient prisons are marks in the walls where shackles binding incarcerated persons were anchored. Such marks can still be seen, alongside graffiti etched by prisoners, in the underground chamber where condemned captives in Carales (modern Cagliari, Italy) awaited their public executions in the adjacent amphitheater.

Before reading Philippians, it is worth pausing to ponder this and other sobering images of Roman-era prisons available on the Ancient Mediterranean Incarceration Database (historyofincarceration.com).

“Dying is gain”

Paul and his friends in Philippi know the stakes. He could eventually be released from custody—likely after a punishing beating (see 2 Corinthians 11:25; Acts 16:22–23). He could die of slow neglect in prison. Or he could be executed.

Paul would prefer the latter. “My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better,” he insists (1:23). “Living is Christ and dying is gain” (1:21). It is easy to read Paul’s statements as expressions of his eager confidence that his death will usher in a glorious union with his Lord. And that is certainly an important part of what Paul is saying. But Paul’s talk of death as “gain” (kerdos) sounds another note, too.

It was a familiar idea in the Greco-Roman world that death offered a welcome relief for those overwhelmed by suffering. “If I die before my time, I account that gain [kerdos],” proclaimed the heroine of one classic tragedy, bemoaning her many troubles.² It was almost a cliché, a Greek way of saying you thought you’d be better off dead.³

So, says Paul, dying would be gain—an end to the darkness, filth, hunger, and exhaustion, all transformed into the glory of being with Christ. Read in this light, Paul’s words express a dogged and desperate hope in the victorious power of Christ. They also offer a vivid reminder of the mental and emotional cost of locking humans in cages.

After all, Paul is not the only prisoner to conclude that dying would be gain. In the Roman world, preventing those in prison from ending their suffering by suicide was an important duty of those tasked with guarding them. Today, suicide rates among incarcerated men are twice that of the free population. Among incarcerated women they are 10 times higher.⁴ Now, too, prison breeds despair.

Reading Paul’s letter to the Philippians provides a valuable opportunity for the modern church to reflect on how one ancient church responded to the prison’s dehumanizing logic.

“Partnership in the gospel”

When early Christians looked at the prison, they more often saw an instrument of tyranny and brutality than of justice. “Remember those who are in prison,” urged the writer of Hebrews, “as though you were in prison with them, those who are being tortured, as though you yourselves were being tortured” (Hebrews 13:3).

For the believers in Philippi, this meant remembering their imprisoned apostle in prayer (Philippians l:19). But it also meant remembering his concrete needs. In the Roman world, prisoners were routinely underfed and underclothed, dependent for their survival on the support of friends and family. So, when the Philippians learned that Paul was in prison, they sent a believer named Epaphroditus with a gift to help him get by (4:10–20).

Crucially, Paul describes this gift not as an isolated act of charity but as the latest expression of an ongoing relationship of reciprocal exchange—their “partnership [koinōnia] in the gospel,” as Paul calls it earlier in the letter (1:5). The term koinōnia, which recurs in various forms throughout the letter, often described a joint business venture or partnership (1:7; 4:14–15).⁵ Thus, by the logic of Paul’s metaphor, the Philippian believers’ gift is not just a handout but, rather, an investment in their joint gospel project.

Paul, too, of course, has a contribution to make to this shared venture. In fact, it is his ongoing obligation to their partnership that convinces Paul that he would not, in fact, be better off dead. Yes, dying would be gain, Paul confesses. “But to remain in the flesh is more necessary for you” (1:24). Paul knows that he has work to do—“fruitful labor,” as he puts it (1:22). The Philippian believers are counting on him. “Since I am convinced of this,” he concludes, “I know that I will remain and continue with all of you for your progress and joy in faith” (1:25).

Clearly, his partnership with the Philippian believers provided the imprisoned Paul with more than food and clothing. It also gave him hope, purpose, and belonging. In other words, as Sarah Jobe has noticed, his relationship of mutual support with the church at Philippi allowed Paul to “re-narrate” his identity as a prisoner. “Rather than regarding Paul as a charity case, recidivist, or person to be rehabilitated,” Jobe observes, “they treated him as an imprisoned friend, a moral authority, and a witness to the Christ who was arrested, tried, found guilty, and executed.”⁶

What would it look like, modern readers might ask, for the church today to regard our incarcerated brothers and sisters not simply as the objects of occasional charity but as vital partners in the work of the gospel?

Notes

1. Libanius, Orations 45.8, trans. Norman, LCL.
2. Sophocles, Antigone 461–62, trans. Lloyd-Jones, LCL.
3. D. W. Palmer, “‘To Die Is Gain’ (Philippians I 21),” Novum Testamentum 17 (1975): 203–218.
4. Adrian P. Mundt et al., “Worldwide Incidence of Suicides in Prison: A Systematic Review with Meta-Regression Analyses,” The Lancet Psychiatry 11, no. 7 (2024): 536–544.
5. Julian M. Ogereau, Paul’s Koinonia with the Philippians: A Socio-Historical Investigation of a Pauline Economic Partnership (Mohr Siebeck, 2014).
6. Sarah Jobe, “Paul the Repeat Offender,” The Christian Century, April 6, 2022, https://www.christiancentury.org/review/books/why-was-apostle-paul-prison-so-often.