I Can Do All This

Background Passages: Philippians 4:4-13

Richard Swenson, author of Contentment: The Secret to Lasting Calm, tells a story about his seven-year-old granddaughter who accidentally stepped in a pile of dog droppings with both tennis shoes. Together, she and her dad found a suitable stick, sat down on the curb and began scraping the mess from the treads of her shoes.

After a few minutes the little girl stopped. She looked at her Dad and then at the brown stuff now piled in the gutter. “You know, Dad,” she said. “This would be a very good meal for a dung beetle.”

Swenson pointed out that the contentment range of little children is a mile wide from end to end. He uses the term “joy beacons” to describe a child’s ability to always see the silver lining. He said, “The laughter from just one child is enough to lift a crowd of fifty. Where do they get this capacity…to make happy connections between a shoe full and the disgusting culinary habits of ugly beetles?”

Psychologists tell us that four-year-olds laugh 26 times a day more than adults. That fact alone makes it clear why Jesus would occasionally spent time with children in his lap and arms. I think the human side of him needed, at times, to be reminded that God gave our hearts an amazing capacity for delight and contentment, even in the most difficult of times. Children, God’s ambassadors to the cynic, find equal contentment, according to Swenson, “in a puddle or a pigeon, a worm or a waffle.”

It’s this idea of contentment that has been on my heart lately. When did we lose that sense of delight and contentment? More importantly, why do we lose it?

Richard Carlson, author of Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff, suggested that our discontent comes from external circumstances. “We tend to believe that if we were somewhere else—on vacation, with another partner, in a different career, a different home, a different circumstance, or if we could somehow go back to the good ol’ days—somehow we would be happier and more content.” Simply put, Carlson said, “We wouldn’t.”

Psychologists will gladly tell us how to find contentment. Some of their thoughts are helpful. Some are not. I think to find the truth about contentment requires a trip to a first century house prison in the middle of Rome.

As first century prisons go, this one wasn’t all that bad. Paul had certainly experienced worse. Acts 28 tells us the apostle found himself under house arrest, chained at times to a bored Roman guard. Because the judicial system of the time did not provide three square meals a day, the prisoner was forced to provide his own housing and support. Limited in his ability to ply his trade as a tentmaker, he had little to sustain his daily life. Most of what he had on which to survive came from money and supplies shared by his friends and followers.

The worst part of his confinement for Paul must have been the restrictions on his ability to share his faith. To do the work God had called him to do. He could have visitors and speak freely about his savior within the walls. He could not spend time in the synagogue or the local market talking about his favorite subject…Jesus. Though his reach was limited, God’s was not. Paul continued to open the hearts of those who heard his message.

Given all he had experienced that brought him to this place and all he experienced while locked behind four walls, one might think Paul struggled to find contentment. Apparently not.

While imprisoned, Paul wrote several letters to the churches he helped establish. One of those churches was in Philippi, a Roman city in Macedonia. It was a letter thanking them for their contribution of provisions and money to support him in his time under house arrest.

He wrote a couple of things in this letter that I have read all my life, but only connected when I read them again this week. (That’s the funny thing about scripture, the Holy Spirit will reveal truth you need to hear when you need to hear it.)

Read his words as one under house arrest.

“Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again. Rejoice!. Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. 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 4:4-8)

That sounds more like a man sitting on the porch of his mountain cabin, sipping a nice diet coke, with his feet up on the rail, watching the squirrels jump around in the trees. It doesn’t sound like a man chained to a surly and sweating Roman guard.

Rejoice. Don’t be anxious about anything. In every situation and in all you need, pray with thankfulness. Find peace beyond the understanding of men…the kind of peace that sets at ease your troubled heart and worried mind.

You see, despite all he had been through that brought him to Rome…the unjust accusations of Jewish leadership back in Judea and the cowardice of the Roman authorities who knew his innocence…Paul still found himself waiting for a trial that could either set him free or hand him over to be killed. Yet, he says, rejoice. Don’t worry. Be at peace. Be content.

Easy to say, difficult to do, right? It seems counterintuitive when faced with an impending divorce. Life-altering injury or illness. Decisions over aging parents. Rebellious children. Financial loss. Angry neighbors. Death of a spouse. Social unrest.

How does one keep from shrinking into dark depression when encountering any single one of these conditions, much less when several seem to hit at once.

Paul gives us a clue, I think.

“Finally, dear 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)

Perhaps the first step in finding contentment amid the garbage of life is to scrap it into the gutter and find the silver lining by concentrating on the noble, the right, the pure and admirable. To get our hearts and minds pointed at the things of God rather than the things that seem to be slapping us around. To find his presence and his peace in the blessings he lavishly provides to those who love him.

Paul found the blessing in the gifts sent by the Philippians. He felt it as he welcomed Epaphroditus as the bearer of the gifts and unwrapped the supplies that they sent to help sustain him. Like a care package of Mom’s chocolate chip cookies sent to a hungry soldier mired in an inhospitable foxhole. It was just what he needed to lift his spirits and remind him that he was not alone.

“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 like 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. (Philippians 4:10-12)

Paul truly understood the ups and downs of life. His life as a Pharisee elevated his social standing and financial condition. He lived a life of relative luxury provided by his position as an up-and-coming religious leader. It all changed on the road to Damascus when he encountered the living Christ in a blinding blaze of light.

For the sake of Christ, Paul walked away from a life most others would envy to give himself to the work God called him to do. It was never easy. Paul once wrote the Christians in Corinth about all he had endured since committing his life to Christ.

If you read 2 Corinthians 11:22-29, you’ll find that Paul spent multiple times in prison and not always the house arrest kind. Five times he was given 39 lashes with a whip. He was beaten with sticks, pelted with stones, shipwrecked three times, and constantly on the move. He crossed raging rivers, faced bandits along the roads and the murderous threats from Jew and Gentile alike.

Paul faced danger in the city and in the country. On sea and on land. He had gone without sleep and known days of hunger and thirst. He was cold and naked. And amid the physical distress, he felt the daily pressure of his concern for the people in the churches he had founded…an overwhelming burden.

When you understand all Paul endured, it makes his words to the Philippians even more forceful. “I have learned to be content whatever the circumstance.”

Paul didn’t find contentment by trying to fix his circumstances, he found it by fixing his eyes on Jesus. By concentrating on living the life God had called him to do. By focusing on the noble, the right, the pure, the lovely and the admirable. In other words, by living a Christ-like life in all he did and all he said.

That’s difficult to do under the pressures and burdens we bear. Paul had a “secret” though. A secret he shared openly with the Philippians and with those of us for whom life has bound us to house arrest, limiting our ability to do the things we want to do.

“I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” (Philippians 4:13)

I’ve read this verse a thousand times, I bet. As I learned in the school business, though, first learning is hard to overcome. When I first learned this passage, it was in the language of King James.

“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”

The message I heard from well-intentioned youth ministers and pastors was that God would empower me through his strength to do everything and anything I wanted to do. That’s the lesson that stuck for that verse. While there is a measure of truth in that thought, it has not been my experience. If that were so, I would have walked on the moon with Neil Armstrong like that childhood dream promised.

No. I don’t think that’s what Paul intended. When Paul says he can concentrate on the noble, the right and the pure; he can find contentment when he has plenty and when he has nothing; he can overcome every adverse circumstance of life. “I can do all of this,” Paul says, “through him who gives me strength.”

There is a difference in “I can do all things…” and “I can do all this…,”  especially within the context of Paul’s life and most decidedly in the context of ours. The first seems more of a promise that our wildest dreams will be ours. The latter suggests that my ability to live well through the good and bad times of life depends on my ability to tap in and trust in the strength Christ provides.

We are incapable of dealing with everything that sticks to the bottom or our shoes within our restricted power and limited strength. However, we can fix our eyes on Jesus. Think like Jesus thought. Live like Jesus lived, facing every circumstance with the same grace with which Jesus faced the sin of the world.

Through the strength Christ provides through his word and his spirit, we will find that silver lining. We’ll find we can be content in all of this tough stuff with which we are dealing.

I truly don’t know how you define contentment. I only hope you find it in Christ. All other definitions are severely lacking.

Maybe the best starting point is to be thankful for the eternal presence of Jesus in your life. Dr. Toyin Omofoye is an author and clinical pharmacist. She said, “Contentment is realized when gratitude becomes a lifestyle.”

So, when you’re facing what you can’t fix on your own, be grateful that you can do all this…all that is required to make it through…because of the strength of Christ in you.

Amen?

Amen!

Cast Your Troubles

Background Passages: Matthew 6:25-34, Luke 12:26-34; John 14:1, Philippians 4:7

The optimism that seems to accompany each new year fades quickly. Most resolutions we make to change the direction of our lives crumble in the reality of old habits and events beyond our control. Within days of our initial optimism we find ourselves mired again in the swamp of anxiety.

Certainly, in our lives and in our world today, we can find reasons to worry without looking very hard.

That could be why many psychologists call our time the “anxious generation.” In New York magazine recently, Jean Twenge, a social researcher from San Diego State University said that anxiety among young people is at an 80-year-high. As bad as it has been since the Great Depression.

Sadly, Christians are not immune to worry, but our faith should provide a buffer to dampen its effect. Jesus said as much during an anxious time for the disciples in the days leading up to his crucifixion.

“Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me.” John 14:1

Jesus speaks to the deep trust we must hold in God as we deal with the most difficult times in our lives. But, worry isn’t limited to times of deep crisis, is it? Our tendency is to worry about the little things and the things we cannot control.

I don’t know why Jesus started the conversation we find recorded in Matthew 6 and Luke 12. Scripture doesn’t tell us. It’s not hard to imagine the scene based on the context provided by Luke and Jesus’ introduction to the passage.

Jesus and his disciples just encountered a man who came to Jesus to settle a financial dispute…asking for his inheritance that his brother controlled.  He was a man self-consumed, one who could not see beyond his own desires and the things of this world. He asked Jesus to convince his brother to give him his inheritance immediately. Jesus responded with a parable about those who pursue wealth at all costs, even to the detriment of their eternal condition.

The disciples must have wrestled with its meaning, perhaps even expressing their own fears and apprehensions about the struggles of life. Jesus took the time to explain.

“…I tell you, do not worry about life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear. For life is more than food and the body more than clothes…Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to your life?”

Worry changes nothing.

Jesus spoke to them of the ravens who neither planted nor harvested, yet God provided for them. He talked of the flowers that do not labor or spin yet are clothed more beautifully than the finest garments any king might possess. He talked of the grass in the field that is abundant one day and tossed into the fire the next.

At its heart lied an argument that ran counter to the ways of the world.

Anglican Bishop John Taylor Smith of England autographed his books on the inside of the front cover with the same message every time. The last stanza of his poem alludes to the point Jesus made to his disciples in Luke about living lives not consumed by worry. He wrote:

The worried cow would have lived till now
If she had saved her breath.
But she feared her hay wouldn’t last all day
And she mooed herself to death.

When you see the lilies spinning in distress,
Taking thought to manufacture loveliness;
When you see the little birds build barns for store,
That’s the time for you to worry, not before.

Jesus explained it with less whimsy.

“…you of little faith. Do not set your heart on what you will eat or drink; do not worry about it. For the pagan world runs after such things and your Father knows you need them. But seek his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.”

The message: If God’s created order takes care of the smallest of his creatures, how much more will God take care of your needs.

Jesus challenged his disciples to trust in God’s provision and worry less about the things that ultimately do not matter. He encouraged them to focus instead on the kingdom of God and their work within it.

The lesson still rings true, even in our fearful and worrisome world.

In a dramatic statement of “do as I say, not as I do,” it seems to me that we worry when we focus on the wrong things. I’m guilty as charged. Matthew’s retelling of this story adds a word that Luke does not include. Jesus concluded his teaching by stating a sad truth about life.

“Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”

No matter how rose-colored our glasses, each day poses its own unique set of problems we must face.

We worry when we quit living in the present…in the now. Worrying about what has already happened is useless. Worrying about tomorrow is fruitless. We stop worrying when we learn to live in God’s will one day at a time. It is this day and what we do with it that matters.

Theologian William Barclay writes that worry and anxiety are basically irreligious…worldly and not spiritual. He said, “Worry is not caused by external circumstances. In the same circumstance, one man may be absolutely serene and another man worried to death. Both worry and peace come, not from circumstances, but from the heart.”

Jesus said much the same thing in Luke as he ended his teaching. He said,

“For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

What my heart desires is my treasure. So what will I desire for today?

I wish I could say I never worry about things, but I do. Those moments slip up on me when I give no thought to faith. When my faith is lacking. When my heart focuses on worldly things. When I’ve treasured something other than my relationship with a loving Father in heaven who I know deep down will provide whatever is needed through every circumstance.

A new year begins. I’ll offer no petty resolutions I cannot keep. Instead, I’ll offer a renewed commitment to the kind of faith that allows me to walk through life circumstances unafraid of any outcome. I commit to putting my faith and trust in God at the center of my heart. With that comes the kind of peace that crucifies all worry and fear. With that comes peace.

“And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Phil. 4:7)

That verses speaks to being content with living in the present when every temptation of the world tries to steal our joy. It offers praises to a loving God who will protect my heart and mind from the agony of anxiety. It is my trust in Christ that carries the day.

May this new year bring you peace through the unmeasured grace of God.

In Search of Contentment

Background Passage: Philippians 4:4-13

We live in a world of simmering discontent fueled by politicians and talk show hosts and fanned by the extremist opinions expressed in an all-too pervasive social media. Many among us look at our life circumstances… longing for a past veiled in a mist of greatness that never was as great as we remember. Angry about a present that seems stuck in a downward spiral. Jaded about a future we anticipate with overwhelming pessimism.

We pursue what we think will bring happiness only to discover emptiness. We buy more things…incur more debt…only to suffering the anxiety of paying for it all. We move from place to place…seeking a better house, better neighborhood, better schools…rarely staying in one place long enough to develop cherished friendships. When we let circumstances define us, when life unfolds as a series of unfulfilled dreams based on unrealistic expectations, contentment remains elusive.

Such a world view is distinctly anti-Christian. That’s not to say there aren’t some real problems we must address. It is saying, however, that as Christians, our world view needs to reflect a different attitude.
Contentment, as the world defines it, finds its root in a Greek word meaning “self-sufficient” or “independence.” It is derived from an ancient Stoic philosophy that calls one to detach oneself from ones emotions, to become indifferent to the ups and downs of life.

Contentment is not complacency. We should work to better ourselves and our circumstances as God grants us the opportunity to do so. God praises hard work that is not driven by greed and selfishness. We can prepare ourselves through education and training and work to better our circumstances as long as we are submissive to God’s will. Contentment is not settling for less. It is submitting your circumstances to God and trusting in his sufficiency.

*

The preacher languished in a foreign prison on trumped up charges. Punished and persecuted for sharing his faith that ran counter to the government-sanctioned philosophy and religion. Far from home. Isolated from most of his friends. Facing an almost certain death sentence.

The missionary could have shaken his fist at God, angry at the situation in which he found himself, wallowing in discontent and feeling abandoned by God and friends. Yet, the preacher continued to share the gospel of Christ to the prison guards, fellow prisoners and those he could reach by letter. In the darkness of his imprisonment, he received an unexpected gift from church friends trying to relieve the burden of his circumstances.

While he certainly appreciated the support during a difficult time, the Apostle Paul used the gift as an opportunity to teach the church at Philippi about his victory over discontent.

*

Paul took the definition of contentment in a different direction. For the apostle, contentment was the peace one finds when living within the will and strength of God. He said, “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.”

Reading the letter today you can imagine the people holding their breath waiting for Paul to reveal the answer. The secret of contentment, Paul said, is knowing…“that I can do all things through him that gives me strength.”

That seems to me to be the key. Our ability to do anything, to overcome everything life throws our way, is predicated on our understanding that God is sufficient in all things; that within his strength, all things are possible. Contentment is that inner sense of peace that stems from our personal relationship with the Father and dependent upon our willingness to embrace his lordship. To yield control of our lives to him.

Easy words to write, but difficult to do…unless we live a focused and purposeful life. Look at Philippians 4:8-9.

“Finally, brothers, 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.”

It’s a simple formula and I’m content with that.