Before the team set off, perhaps the church had gathered at Lydia's home to lay hands on them and ensure they had everything needed for the long, risky trip to Rome. If they managed to cover twenty miles a day, their trip would take seven or eight weeks. Though we can't be sure of the timing, possibly Epaphroditus got so unexpectedly sick on the way that one of the Philippian messengers returned home with the distressing news while another kept him from death. Epaphroditus felt terrible, both from his illness but even more from the shameful sense that he had sabotaged the mission. He had wanted to minister to Paul but instead he'd added to everyone's worries. He's distressed about their distress. But Paul sees Epaphroditus as he is in God's eyes. He layers the honorable titles even higher than he did for Timothy: brother, fellow worker, fellow soldier, your messenger, and your minister. He's family. He's honored from Paul's perspective, so he should be honored from theirs, as well. Paul even says that he risked his life. It's a daring phrase, with the sense that Epaphroditus bet, or gambled, his life for God's service. Paul sees the wager for what it is: If Epaphroditus had died, he would have been with Christ. Yet in God's mercy, it was more necessary that he remain, and so he continued on, to minister to Paul (see 1:23-26). Just as Christ actually entered death and received God's honor, so Epaphroditus, who came near to death, is worthy of great honor (2:8-9). In a culture that valued the swift and the strong, a messenger who nearly died for the gospel is Paul's kind of hero. Paul doesn't see Epaphroditus' trip as ordinary work, but as ministry, like a priest serving in the temple, because the journey was dedicated to God. I remember when the Creating Jobs board was debating what to call the beneficiaries we serve. But every term suggested we were the helpers, and they were the ones being helped. I kept thinking about a young woman who risked everything after her parents abandoned her. She started a business so she could provide for her siblings and cousins, hire her unemployed friends, and give back to her community. We humbled ourselves to recognize that these entrepreneurs faced greater struggles than we did, and our terminology needed to give honor where it was due. So we call them our heroes.