Shine Like Stars | Shine Like Stars (Philippians 2:12-18)

Have you ever felt like you really didn’t fit in or belong in the place you are? Cheering for the wrong team in the wrong stadium? All dressed up while everyone else is casual? Excited about something no one else is? We live in a post-Christian world. The viewpoints prevalent in this world are a world apart from the viewpoint God gives us in His Word. That means, in this world, we stick out. Stand out. Shine like stars in a very dark sky. As we hold onto God’s Word and hold it out for other people to see, we will shine like stars in people’s lives. Imagine what a difference it makes in a dark night sky to see a bright light shining forth! We can make a difference in the lives of others, just like Jesus made a difference in ours. Let’s shine like stars!

Transcript

Church family, I long for you to lean in. God has something to say to us through his Word—something beautiful, something deeply serious, something dripping with grace and pulsing with purpose. Something we need to hear not just as individuals, but as a church. Because there’s a kind of darkness that creeps into every congregation—not always as loud rebellion, but as something quieter. More subtle. Something we excuse and overlook. Grumbling. Arguing. Eye rolls. Sighs. That quiet hum of discontent that drains the joy right out of the room.

And it’s not just in church. This is the air we breathe. In a culture obsessed with curating every moment, venting every frustration, and dragging every inconvenience into the spotlight, grumbling has gone viral. Social media thrives on it. Cable news monetizes it. Workplace Slack channels, family group texts—it’s everywhere. But into that darkness, the Word of God shines. That’s why I’m excited for the Scripture before us that’s made for people living in such a world as this. Philippians 2:12–18. There’s a paradox here that we have to sit with. Wrestle with. And ultimately, stand in awe of. Let me read these verses again: “Therefore, my dear friends, as you have always obeyed—not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence—continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose.”
Pause there. Let it hit. This is one of those sentences that rattles your soul—in the best way. “Work out your salvation with fear and trembling.”  That sounds like it’s all on you. Like the exact opposite of the truth we boldly stand on as Lutheran Christians that we’re saved by grace alone, through faith alone in Christ alone, as revealed by the Scriptures alone. Like it’s your job to get this right. To secure your standing with God. To earn your way into the light. But then, in the very next breath, Paul says, “For it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose.” He gives you the will. He gives you the strength. He gives you everything you need to do what he’s asking you to do. So which is it? The answer—beautifully, gloriously—is yes.

Christ already worked for it—on a cross, between two criminals, with his dying breath. He earned it. He finished it. He rose to seal it. Your salvation is already yours in him. But now, in Christ, you’re called to work it out—to live out what Jesus has already won. To walk in what he’s already accomplished. This is where trembling joy begins—not in fear of condemnation, but in awe of God’s mercy. So when Paul speaks of “salvation” he is most often referring to when the Lord brings us home, when we experience salvation, rescue to the full. You already stand justified and now in certainty you await the salvation of your souls, to be with Jesus forever! And if God has rescued us, redeemed us, filled us with the Spirit, which he has—then what else could we do but pour out our lives in response?
This isn’t moralism. It’s not “try harder.” It’s not behavior management. It’s resurrection living. It’s the life of the Spirit, shaping you from the inside out. Paul says it plainly: God is the one at work in you. He’s shaping your will. He’s forming your character. He’s aligning your desires with his. He’s not just watching from a distance—he’s in you. Through the Spirit, your Father is forming your soul to reflect your Savior. So what does that look like, practically?

“Do everything without grumbling or arguing.” Everything? Everything. In your marriage. In your group chat. In your job. In your church. In your hallway conversations after worship. In your attitude toward your parents. In the way you serve when no one’s watching. Grumbling and arguing are not neutral. They dim the light of Christ in us. They fog the mirror. They disrupt the glow. And they’re so easy to justify, aren’t they? “I'm just venting.” “I'm just being real.” “I’m just saying what nobody else will.” But what if “just being real” is actually just being rebellious? God is calling us to something better. Why? “So that you may become blameless and pure… children of God without fault in a warped and crooked generation. Then you will shine among them like stars in the sky.” You want to shine?  You want to reflect the radiance of Jesus in a cynical world?
Start here: Kill the grumble. Mute the argument. Replace complaint with thanksgiving. Replace gossip with grace. Replace sarcasm with sincerity. Replace passive-aggression with peacemaking. Because the world is watching. And our light is either pointing people to Christ—or it’s not. This world doesn’t need more noise. It needs light. The Church of Jesus is meant to glow with something otherworldly—something eternal. We don’t shine because we’re perfect. We shine because we belong to the One who is. We reflect his brilliance. His joy. His humility. His cross-shaped love. We shine because Jesus emptied himself, took the form of a servant, obeyed to the point of death—and God raised him up. That’s what Paul just got done saying in the verses before this: Christ humbled himself for you, and now is exalted above every name. So now, church, you get to live in the glow of that victory. Not as a burden—but as your calling.

And if you’re wondering, “Can I really shine like that?”—let me tell you a story. We just got to witness God’s light in two incredible women: Miss Teddy and Carline. They’re joining our church family today. They didn’t come here looking to impress anyone. They came hungry for Jesus. And what struck me was how deeply they listened—how much joy we had in START and GROW class to see the depth of God’s truth and grace. They’ve both been through valleys, very real ones in their lives—but the light of Christ shines in them. And they can’t wait to share it.

They are stars in the sky. You are too, dear Christian. Not because you’re loud. Not because you’re flashy. But because Christ is in you. And the Spirit is forming your character, shaping you into the likeness of the Son, as you walk hand-in-hand with your Father. So here’s what that shine looks like: You forgive, even when no one’s asking for it. You show up, even when you feel unseen. You speak peace into chaos. You love when it’s inconvenient. You obey—not to earn God’s love, but because you already have it. You shine. You glow. Not with your own brilliance—but with a borrowed light. The light of Christ. And here's your confidence: “He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.”

So don’t coast. Don’t grumble. Don’t drift. Tremble. Tremble—not in fear of punishment, but in awe of grace. Tremble because your salvation is secure. Tremble because your life matters. Tremble because the Spirit of God is in you, forming you, filling you, and shining through you—right now. And when that happens—when we live as a church formed by the Father, in the likeness of the Son, empowered by the Spirit—we will not be a dim place. We will be a constellation of grace. A sky of stars. A people who glow. So let’s go out and shine that “the light of Christ may be seen today in our acts of love and our deeds of faith.” Amen.