And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:19).

Yesterday, Kyra reflected on the gifts the Philippians had given to Paul. Today’s text is a promise that the young church in Philippi will be cared for; cared for by God. These two things belong together; they follow each other. The way Paul writes, it sounds like God will care for them because they have cared for Paul. But is that right? Yes and no.

Because we believe so firmly in ‘saved by grace alone’ we have a difficult time with certain texts in the New Testament. Jesus tells us to lay up treasures in heaven and Paul adds that we will receive a crown of glory. Are these rewards for good behaviour? Sort of.

There are rewards for the life of Christian faith that go above and beyond just our salvation in Christ. Should we want these rewards? Of course, but why should we want them? It’s a thing we should wrestle with. It’s our desires that we need to wrestle with. Paul’s reflections are helpful.

Paul's desire was not for gifts, even though he is blessed by them and receives them gratefully. His desire is not stuff. His desire is the place from which these gifts come. These are gifts of love from the Philippians as a response of faith to God. These gifts mean that God's Word is bearing good fruit through the Philippians. And that is enough. There's abundance in the Kingdom of God even when he goes without, because he is strengthened not by the stuff of this world but by Christ.

The economy of the kingdom is a gift economy. Its not one of balance sheets. The things that the Philippians give are “a fragrant offering, an acceptable sacrifice” given in response to all that God has given. The Philippians were living Romans 12. They are “living sacrifices,” giving all in the service of God—all that you have and all that you are. When we do that, we store up treasures for ourselves in heaven, a crown of reward.

We do it, of course, not to get that reward per say, but as a response of faith—to be pleasing to God, recognizing as Paul had said already, that our contentment—our rest—is in Christ. We can say with Paul that “our God will meet all our needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus.” Whether he does so in this world or the next, it does not change the calculus: God has given much. We are amply supplied in Christ and therefore we give as a response of faith. It’s a joyful storing up not in this life and according to the rules of this world, but rather according to the Kingdom principles of the world to come.

As the Heidelberg Catechism says, true faith is a “also a deep-rooted assurance, created in me by the Holy Spirit through the gospel, that, out of sheer grace earned for us by Christ, I have had my sins forgiven, have been made forever right with God, and have been granted salvation” (A 21). But it opens with this, “Because I belong to him, Christ, by his Holy Spirit, assures me of eternal life and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready from now on to live for him” (A 1). We don’t live generous lives to get rewards. We do so to give him glory, to please him, believing that he is more than able to provide for us.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.

“Moreover, as you Philippians know, in the early days of your acquaintance with the gospel, when I set out from Macedonia, not one church shared with me in the matter of giving and receiving, except you only; for even when I was in Thessalonica, you sent me aid more than once when I was in need. Not that I desire your gifts; what I desire is that more be credited to your account. I have received full payment and have more than enough. I am amply supplied, now that I have received from Epaphroditus the gifts you sent. They are a fragrant offering, an acceptable sacrifice, pleasing to God” (Philippians 4:15-18).

Paul, in our verses today, continues his reflection on the Philippian church’s generosity toward him. He reflects on their gifts in the “early days” of their acquaintance with the gospel. They had, it seems, experienced the generosity of God’s grace and responded, as many new Christ-followers do, with passion and eagerness to serve.

But Paul assures the Philippian church that the situation is not one where he “desired” their gifts. While he was grateful for their support, Paul was not financially desperate, believing that God’s mission was dependent on the Philippian church. He did not see them as simply business partners. Rather, he desired their generosity so that they themselves would experience the grace of giving, that “more [would] be credited to [their] account.”

There are two things we have to be careful of here. First, as Paul’s comment indicates, we cannot treat our generosity as something upon which God’s mission is dependent. Christians and Christian ministries have, at times, exploited well-intentioned people because of a lack of care given to language around calls to generosity. We give, not because God is impotent without our doing so, not because people will not be saved if we don’t, but because we are given the gift of participating in what God is doing in the world.

We also have to be careful not to think of generosity as transactional. That was a common way of thinking in the Greco-Roman world, and is, if we are honest, often the way we think about giving too. But neither we nor the Philippian church are called to give and then wait around expecting to receive blessing because of a sense of our own righteousness. Rather, we are to understand that our generosity is, as Paul describes in today’s verses, “a fragrant offering, an acceptable sacrifice, pleasing to God.”

Recall Paul’s words earlier, in chapter 2:17: “But even if I am being poured out like a drink offering on the sacrifice and service coming from your faith, I am glad and rejoice with all of you.” Here, Paul also uses the language of sacrifice to refer to the potential for his own impending death. And for Paul, as we’ve seen throughout the letter, his own death was an opportunity for him to imitate Christ, who poured himself out knowing that those his sacrifice was for could never afford to pay him back.

And this is the ultimate gift of generosity–that in being generous, we participate with Christ. The same gift of grace that allows us to freely receive–without guilt or shame, as Pastor Michael described yesterday–allows us to give. We, like Paul, can be assured that we are “amply supplied” by what already belongs to us in Christ Jesus.

So as you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.

I can do all this through him who gives me strength. Yet it was good of you to share in my troubles (Philippines 4:13-14).

We continue with the theme of contentment. Paul learned contentment in all things through his reliance on Christ. But this was not a simple two-way street between Paul and Jesus. Our Lord used other people to provide for Paul, as he does for us. Paul knew this and was glad for the gifts from the Philippian church. But this is a difficult teaching.

Many of us are rather stoic when it comes to receiving support from others. We decline when someone offers to pay for or give us something. We feel a certain kind of guilt or shame. Maybe we think we are deficient because we needed help. Or we feel that our relationship is now out of balance – we owe them.

People who need help are often looked down on, despite Jesus’ comment that the poor we will always have with us. Our society is organized towards personal self-sufficiency. Most of us rent or own our own property, living detached from other households. We work jobs to support ourselves and our households. We own vehicles to drive ourselves where we want to go. We build up savings and portfolios to ensure that we will remain independent after retirement. These things are constructed so that we do not need to rely on the hospitality of another.

All these things are not bad or wrong. But something is amiss when we implicitly believe that all people should be able to do life this way: on their own, without burdening anyone else. Somewhere deep in our heart of hearts, we suspect such people to be weak, lazy, lesser, or at fault for it. “They did it to themselves,” we think: “they deserve what they get.” One should be able to do life on one’s own, without the support or intervention of others. To do less than this is to fail at life somehow.

Such attitudes are dangerous. We translate Jesus words, “It is more blessed to give than to receive” into, “stand on your own two feet and give to the needy who can’t.”

Here is the problem: if we can do it all ourselves—what need do we have of a saviour? Many have come to the very logical conclusion that we don’t. “We’ve managed this life just fine on our own, thank you. We don’t need help from anyone else—including God.”

Feelings of guilt and shame when we have need or when we receive something work against our receiving the one and only thing we need but can’t get on our own: God’s grace in Jesus.

Our relatively wealthy, peaceful, and independent society actively works against the logic of the faith. Contentment in Christ includes the willingness and the ability to receive with gratitude and thanksgiving—recognizing, once again, that our lives are not our own creation and that we are not the ones who hold on. It is Christ who holds on to us. Christ who provides for us.

Receiving gracefully is a necessary spiritual discipline to counteract impulse towards self-sufficiency of our culture.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.

A Sunday Sermon edition of Wilderness Wanderings! The text is Luke 10:25-37. Dive In discussion questions are below for further reflection!

To see this sermon in the context of the worship service it comes from, find it here on YouTube. Or, head to our website to connect with the worshiping community of Immanuel CRC: immanuelministries.ca

1. This week evaluate your use of technology like AI, Internet, social media, etc. Maybe keep a log of all the ways you use it.
2. How do you start your prayers? Do you get yourself fully involved?
3. Who do you pray to? What image of God do you have in your mind? Where is he? What is he like? As you have grown in your faith, has your understanding of God changed? Has it become more accurate, closer to how he describes himself in the Bible?
4. How does Jesus factor into your prayers? Do your prayers end in hope or despair? Why?
5. How can your praying become more about spiritual transformation then the one-way street of asking God for things you want?

“I rejoiced greatly in the Lord that at last you renewed your concern for me. Indeed, you were concerned, but you had no opportunity to show it. I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength” (Philippians 4:10-13).

Throughout much of this letter, Paul has spoken of his joy in the Philippian church. Here, nearing the end of the letter, he returns to one of the reasons for his joy, also reflected in the beginning of his letter: The generous financial support of the Philippian church while he is in chains for the gospel.

Paul’s comment about the Philippian’s inability to show their concern initially suggests that they may not, at first, have been willing or able to provide support. Their own financial limitations, or the reality of their persecution we have discussed previously, may have inhibited their ability to aid Paul. Or perhaps they did not initially have a messenger like Epaphroditus, discussed in chapter 2, willing to risk caring for someone imprisoned by the empire. This further emphasizes the significance of their communal sacrifice which prompted this joy-filled letter from Paul. It may also explain Paul’s comments about learning to be content in all circumstances.

This Greek word used for “content” in these verses is a word that appears only in this single context in the New Testament. However, it was a well-known philosophical concept in the Greco-Roman world, connected with groups like the Stoics and Cynics, which spoke of contentment as an ideal state resulting from supreme self-sufficiency.

Paul’s use of this word, however, conveys a contentment that comes, not from self-sufficiency, but from God’s sufficiency. Both poverty and plenty are states in which he is comfortable, not because they are a result of his choices or effort, but because his economic circumstances do not reflect his status before God. Paul’s “secret” of contentment, a contrast to the Greco-Roman ideal, is further stated in verse 13: “I can do all things through him who strengthens me.”

Now, this verse has often been taken out of context to exaggerate human capacity. But it is important that we retain a distinctly Christian anthropology (or, in other words, view of what it means to be human). This verse does not imply any change in what it means to be human creatures. God does not give people super-human capabilities. What Scripture testifies about humans–that we are finite and fallen, that God is God and we are not, remains true. But Paul’s testimony is that accepting the reality of human finitude yields a contentment that grasping for control over one’s circumstances could never produce.

This is perhaps why Paul speaks of contentment in the context of his joy at the gift he has received from the Philippians–and why, as many scholars have pointed out about this letter, he never actually directly thanks the Philippians for what they have given him. Perhaps it is because he knows that, in their generous giving out of what little they have, they are in turn being gifted the possibility of learning contentment. A contentment dependent entirely on who God is, and not what they have.

So where are you striving for self-sufficiency today? What might you relinquish to find contentment in God’s sufficiency?

So as you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you (Philippians 4:8-9).

This letter has two key concerns: persecution that the church is suffering from the outside, and, under that stress, forms of conflict that threaten to tear this church apart from the inside (like the conflict between Euodia and Syntyche).

Similar dynamics have been repeated frequently. Recent stats suggest the church in North America is shrinking and some believe that our decline is the result of persecution from a decadent society peeling away our members. Under this stress, we easily fall into forms of conflict that threaten to tear the church apart from the inside. As the writer of Ecclesiastes says: “there is nothing new under the sun.”

In the face of such pressures, Paul invited us to seek the Lord’s presence with joy discovering the peace of Christ. Now he asks us to contemplate better things. We shouldn’t let our minds mull endlessly over the problems, pressures, and sins that threaten us from without and within. Rather, Paul invites us to feed our minds with virtuous things that are excellent and praiseworthy.

“You are what you eat,” the saying goes. If we feed our minds a constant stream of junk—ruminations on sin, climate disasters, loathing of the government, gun violence, persecution, mistrust of fellow Christians, despair about the future, and whatever else is wrong—if that’s what our minds constantly chew on, we’re going to get indigestion. And we may very well descend into becoming more and more these things that occupy our minds the most. Thinking too much about sin may inadvertently tempt us into it; mistrusting others, we may become less trustworthy; loathing the government, we may become loathsome; despairing about the future, clouds of despair may haunt our days and nights.

As an antidote, Paul invites us to feed our minds with better things. “Whatever is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.” That is, chew them over, ponder them carefully, let our minds run wild for a while on the best of what virtue has to offer. Such vegetables are far better fare to feed our minds than the empty, sugar-rush calories of bad news. As we ponder these things we may find that we become increasingly what we ingest: thinking of what is true, we align our lives to it. Pondering what is lovely or beautiful, we seek to become more lovely in character. Pondering the right, we become more righteous.

This list of virtues that Paul offers are not explicitly Christian virtues. It is a morality list drawn from the work of the pagan philosophers of the day. The subtle point appears to be this: all that is good and true in this world belongs to God and is a gift of God—no matter who came up with it. And so, as you chew over these virtues, your capacity to see God and His Spirit abundantly at work as the Sovereign King over all creation and creatures is expanded.

Slowly it may dawn on us the God, whose Spirit is everywhere present and at work, even in a secular world and in the atheist philosopher, is also here with me—and how much more so through Jesus! May that notion give you peace.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:6-7).

“Do not be anxious about anything,” Paul begins. Well, that’s quite a start. I must confess that I don’t know that there is ever a moment in my life where I am anxious about absolutely nothing. There are maybe, just maybe, about 5 minutes after I read a verse like this, where I am in a devotional space, and I read this text, I pray a prayer of surrender for whatever it is that has just jumped into my head as an example of how bad I am at being obedient to this command… And maybe for those 5 minutes after I can maintain the kind of non-anxiety Paul is talking about here. But once I’ve left that quiet devotional space, all of reality comes rushing back in to disrupt my nice pious resolution of mere moments before. Possibly you can relate. I suspect we are not alone.

Jesus offers a similar teaching as part of his Sermon on the Mount in Matthew’s Gospel. Many of us are likely familiar with the text of Matthew 6 that begins “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life…” It continues to reflect on the birds of the air and the flowers of the field, God’s provision for them and for us.

In both passages, the Greek word for worry or anxiety is the same. And I don’t think either, in spite of how they are often read, is a judgment against worry or anxiety. As we have reflected previously this summer, Scripture’s commands against fear do not express finger-wagging disapproval, but rather God’s desire for his people. The command Paul gives in this passage is not “Do not be anxious about anything, you irrational and untrusting fools. Do you not know God at all?” No, Paul says, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” Paul is offering a way of transferring our anxiety and fear to our God, who promises to respond with his peace, so we don’t have to carry it alone.

Paul also calls the church to offer prayers with thanksgiving. This builds on the theme of joy which Pastor Michael reflected on yesterday. There are times when, as he described, thanksgiving is not a natural reflection of our circumstances, which may be tremendously painful. However, with the intimacy with God that comes through prayer, we can become people of joy and thanksgiving because of who God is–and who he has been and promises he will be–regardless of our present reality.

“Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is the will of God in Jesus Christ for you,” Paul reflects similarly in 1 Thess. 5:18. Thanksgiving and joy, not fear and anxiety, are God’s will for his people. But we don’t have to carry the burden of willing or working our circumstances into alignment. In the midst of trials and suffering, we don’t have to add the burden of positive thinking. Expressions of grief at what is wrong in our lives and the world is no less holy a form of prayer than joyful prayers in response to what is good, true, and beautiful. Prayer is not first about what we feel, say, or do; it is about who God is and what he can do. We may simply come before him, presenting our requests, and he will guard our minds and our hearts in Christ Jesus.

So as you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.

Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near (Philippians 4:4-5).

Paul begins to wind down his letter to the Christians in Philippi by returning to his opening theme. In the first few chapters, he has told us of the mindset of Jesus (i.e. humbling himself to the cross and submitting himself to the Father alone rather than his own recourse). Paul wrote how he sought to live out of this mindset of Jesus. He also included how the Philippian church and those within it experiencing fights and division (like Euodia and Syntyche) should live out that Jesus-mindset, as Kyra elaborated on yesterday.

Having said all this, Paul returns to the theme of joy. This is where he began by mentioning his joyful prayers for the Philippian Christians. He was thankful for their partnership in the Gospel and for God’s work in them that God would see to completion.

Now he invites the Philippians into the same prayer saturated with joy. Today let’s reflect on the joy.

An antidote to the mistrust of fellow Christians that breeds division like that between Euodia and Syntyche is a healthy joy in the Lord. In the angel’s Christmas announcement to the shepherds, they said, the Gospel is “good news of great joy for all people”. When our joy evaporates or is replaced by fear, doubts, or suspicions, it is an indicator that our own heart needs tending in the presence of God. Only then can we engage fruitfully again with fellow Christians. We need to receive again the good news of great joy in our hearts. Then, as we encounter others, what spills out of us is a joyful, Gospel word.

How do we do that? Let me suggest a few ways. One is simply by practicing. If we don’t feel joyful, we should rejoice and giving thanks to God anyway. It’s often the case that working a habit like rejoicing, even when we aren’t in the mood for it, can serve to usher our emotions gently along until we do begin to feel it. We can use the last few Psalms to get started.

Another way to find joy in the Lord is to remember that “the Lord is near.” Even when everything else might feel like its coming undone or when it feels like there are enemies all around—a recognition of the presence of God in that place can change things. Even valleys of death’s shadow can be transformed into an experience of God’s care and provision when we remember that he is there, too. Meditation on Psalms 23 or 121 are helpful here.

A third way to renew our joy is simply by talking to God. We call that prayer. But that’s for tomorrow.

This kind of joy in Christ enables us to make known the mind of Christ to those around us. The Greek word translated as gentleness can also mean forbearance or tolerance. A willingness to let things go or to delay our reaction or desire for retribution. Doing so offers a gracious, merciful forbearance as God has done for us. Again, we can do this because the Lord, who has displayed his gentle forbearance with us, is near. It’s a cause of joy. A cause for taking on the same mindset.

So, rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.