Pastor Tricia's Ramblings

Philippians 1:12–18

Have you noticed how quick we are these days to throw around the label false prophet? A quick Google search will bring up blogs, articles, and social media threads calling out everyone from Billy Graham to Rod Parsley. Local pastors, famous ministries, big names and small names—all of them come under fire. And here’s the heartbreaking part: often it’s not the world pointing the finger. It’s the church.

We’ve gotten really good at nitpicking each other. If we don’t like someone’s style of preaching, or we find fault with their delivery, or we catch a whiff of ego in the way they lead—we slap a label on them. Sometimes it feels like we are quicker to criticize than to celebrate when God’s Word is going out.

But when I look at Paul’s words in Philippians 1:12–18, I’m convicted. Paul didn’t get stuck in labeling. He didn’t get stuck in complaining. He didn’t even get stuck on motives. Instead, he kept his eyes fixed on one thing: the message of Jesus Christ being proclaimed.

Paul’s Perspective in Prison

Let’s read Paul’s words together:

“I want you to know, brothers, that what has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel, so that it has become known throughout the whole imperial guard and to all the rest that my imprisonment is for Christ. And most of the brothers, having become confident in the Lord by my imprisonment, are much more bold to speak the word without fear. Some indeed preach Christ from envy and rivalry, but others from good will. The latter do it out of love, knowing that I am put here for the defense of the gospel. The former proclaim Christ out of selfish ambition, not sincerely but thinking to afflict me in my imprisonment. What then? Only that in every way, whether in pretense or in truth, Christ is proclaimed, and in that I rejoice.” (Philippians 1:12–18, ESV)

Think about that. Paul is writing these words under house arrest in Rome. He’s chained, guarded day and night by Roman soldiers. Every few hours, a new guard would come on duty. Imagine that scene. Instead of sulking, instead of plotting an escape, instead of begging for pity—Paul saw every new shift as a new mission field.

Every time the door opened and a guard walked in, Paul must have thought, Here’s another one who needs to hear about Jesus.

What Would We Do?

Let’s be honest for a minute. What would we do if we were in Paul’s situation?

Would we cry out to God, begging Him to rescue us? Probably.

Would we complain about our unfair treatment? Likely.

Would we write letters trying to recruit outside support? Maybe.

Would we plan a way to escape? Some of us might.

Or maybe we would just give up—accept the situation as hopeless and wait it out.

But Paul didn’t do any of those things. Instead, he found a way to turn his prison into his pulpit. He looked at the chains not as restrictions, but as opportunities. He looked at the guards not as enemies, but as potential brothers in Christ. He looked at his suffering not as wasted time, but as a platform for the gospel.

That’s perspective.

Wrong Motives, Right Message

Now, here’s the part that really challenges me. Paul had heard that some were preaching Christ with selfish motives. Not false teaching—but selfish ambition, envy, rivalry. Some preached hoping to stir up trouble for Paul. Their hearts weren’t in the right place.

If that were me, I’d be tempted to call them out. To put them in their place. To expose their hypocrisy. But Paul doesn’t. Instead, he says:

“What then? Only that in every way, whether in pretense or in truth, Christ is proclaimed, and in that I rejoice.” (Philippians 1:18, ESV)

Wow.

Paul’s one desire was for Christ to be exalted. That’s it. He wasn’t worried about protecting his own reputation. He wasn’t consumed with proving others wrong. He wasn’t obsessed with guarding his own platform. His focus was laser-sharp: Is the gospel being preached? If so, I will rejoice.

That’s convicting, isn’t it?

Our Culture of Criticism

Let’s bring this closer to home.

We live in a culture where criticism is currency. We scroll through social media and see pastors with big followings, polished videos, and catchy sermons. And sometimes our first instinct is to roll our eyes and question their motives. They’re just in it for the fame. They’re watering down the message. They’re building their own brand.

And you know what? Sometimes we’re right. Motives can be mixed. Pride can creep in. But here’s the truth Paul reminds us of: even when motives are messy, God’s Word doesn’t return void. The gospel still has power. Jesus is still being lifted up. Lives are still being changed.

That means the pastor you don’t personally like? The one whose preaching style grates on you? The one you think is doing ministry “for the wrong reasons”? If they’re still proclaiming the truth of the gospel, Paul would say: Celebrate that. Rejoice that Christ is being preached.

Turning Our Prisons into Purpose

Paul’s story challenges us in another way too. He didn’t waste his suffering. He turned it into something meaningful for the kingdom of God.

Think about your own life. What’s your “prison” right now?

• Maybe it’s a health diagnosis you didn’t expect.
• Maybe it’s financial stress that feels overwhelming.
• Maybe it’s a broken relationship that weighs on your heart.
• Maybe it’s grief that won’t let go.

What if, instead of viewing these situations as wasted seasons, we began to see them as opportunities? What if, like Paul, we believed God could use even our chains to advance the gospel?

When you’re sitting in a hospital waiting room, you have people around you who need hope. When you’re working through financial struggles, you have a testimony of God’s provision that someone else may desperately need to hear. When you walk through grief, your story of clinging to Christ can become a lifeline for another broken heart.

The question is not “Why am I here?” but “Who can I point to Jesus while I am here?”

Finding Joy in the Hard Places

Paul’s joy wasn’t dependent on his circumstances. He was in chains, yet he rejoiced. He faced opposition, yet he rejoiced. He heard about people trying to stir up trouble for him, yet he rejoiced.

Why? Because his joy wasn’t rooted in comfort, reputation, or circumstances. His joy was rooted in Christ being proclaimed.

And that’s the invitation for us today.

What would change if we shifted our focus from “How do I get out of this?” to “How can Christ be exalted in this?”

What would happen if we stopped nitpicking other Christians and started celebrating the truth being spoken?

What would happen if we stopped wasting our pain and started turning our prisons into purpose?

Bringing It Home

The next time you’re tempted to criticize another preacher or ministry leader, pause and ask: Is Christ being preached? If the answer is yes, then rejoice.

And the next time you find yourself in a storm, a trial, or even your own “prison,” pause and ask: How can this situation be used to advance the gospel?

Paul’s chains didn’t silence him—they amplified his witness. Your chains don’t have to silence you either.

So, let’s make it personal:

• What’s your prison right now?
• What would it look like to see it as an opportunity instead of an obstacle?
• Who might God be putting right in front of you—like those Roman guards—so you can share the hope of Christ?

Because when we choose to rejoice in the gospel being proclaimed, and when we choose to turn our prisons into purpose, we begin to live with the same freedom Paul had—even in chains.

Final Thought

Paul’s words echo across the centuries, straight into our lives today:

“What then? Only that in every way, whether in pretense or in truth, Christ is proclaimed, and in that I rejoice.” (Philippians 1:18, ESV)

Let’s be people who rejoice. People who celebrate the truth going out. People who see purpose in our prisons. People who choose joy—because Jesus is worth it.

👉 So, let me ask you: what prison are you in right now, and how can God turn it into purpose for the gospel?