Philippians 4

Amen. It’s great to be together this morning. It’s been an awesome service so far, and especially, Jackie—I really appreciate her testimony. It was just incredibly moving and vulnerable, and that was awesome. So grateful for that.

For those who don’t know, my name is Will Thorne. My wife and I oversee the campus ministries here, and it is great to be together. Happy Fourth of July weekend to everybody! Hopefully, we all still have all of our fingers intact. I’ve been growing out my mullet for the past few months to celebrate this weekend especially, so who knows how long it’ll last, but I’m very grateful and excited.

We have a couple here—Bruno and Margot. They lead the campus ministry in our church in Paris, and we’ve spent the last few days with them. They’re an incredible couple. It’s been so great getting to know them. They’re going to share a little bit of good news about what God’s doing in Paris and Europe.

Thank you so much, Will. We’re just so happy to be with you guys. We’re just so happy to meet you. The hospitality you’ve shown us is absolutely mind-blowing, and we feel so loved. To share some of the good news, Margot is going to start.

Hey guys! Yes, so one of the best things that happened last year in Paris in the campus ministry is that we had four baptisms in the fall—and three of them were all in one day, which was pretty great.

Two of those baptized were what we call “kingdom kids”—they grew up in the church—but two of them were not. That was pretty cool because one of the kingdom kids invited two of her friends from high school to be baptized. It was so wholesome. It was amazing to see God’s glory. Adasa, the girl who grew up in the church, came out of her baptism soaking wet, then put her hands back in the water as she baptized her high school friend. It was so amazing to see that.

They all got baptized and invited pretty much all their high school friends. The midweek meeting place was filled with people—we had never had so many visitors before. About 20 people came to support them in their baptism. We’re currently studying the Bible with one of their friends, and it’s been amazing to see the culture change.

I grew up in the church in Paris, and I’ve seen all the phases of the campus ministry there—all kinds of phases—but we’ve grown into a ministry that is very diverse in origins, especially spiritual backgrounds. About half of the people grew up in the church, and half have not. This diversity has created an amazing culture of all kinds of people and spiritual backgrounds, and it’s been so inspiring.

[Applause]

We also had the first ICMC—though we should call it ECMC because it’s really European. Our first ICMC was in 2019, and we hadn’t had any since then until this year, when we had our first one in Estonia. About 160 students from all over Europe attended, and we’re planning to make that happen every year from now on. It’s been great for the unity of all our campus ministries in Europe.

You guys can come whenever we organize those, please come! If you do, we’ll still call them international.

Before closing, I want to say a big thank you to you all. I don’t know if you know, but a big part of why we’re able to be here is thanks to you—your generosity over the years, your dreaming for the entire world, not just for Boston. You’ve had such a great impact.

Margot is the first staff person paid by the Paris church in 20 years when she was hired, and since then, they’ve hired three more. So now there are four of us on staff paid by the church. But a lot of this is thanks to your support over the years because the European Mission Society (EMS), which you support a lot, sent the Mgherks’ parents and kids, who trained us for five years, and we’ve been able to take over thanks to your generosity and for sending your people as well.

I know Kayen and Katie Arsenal are coming to Europe, and we’re so thankful for your amazing generosity. It really has an impact. It’s hard to see the impact when you’re across the ocean, but we see it—and it’s amazing.

Thank you so much. We love you.

[Applause]

Amen, great stuff! You know, in the Revolutionary War, the country that helped us as we fought the British was France. So, we’re grateful to the French. In exchange, we’ve taught them about culture like McDonald’s and Mountain Dew and all the great culture America brings.

It’s been great having Bruno and Margot here. We’ve spent the last few days with them—it’s been awesome.

If you have a Bible, please turn to Philippians chapter 4. We’re going to finish our study of the book of Philippians today by reading the whole chapter.

Here’s a little context first: Philippians was written by the Apostle Paul, probably around 61 to 62 AD. It was most likely written to the church in Philippi, which is in northern Greece—kind of Macedonia—while Paul was in prison in Rome.

A disciple from the Philippian church named Epaphroditus came to visit Paul while he was in prison. He brought Paul a gift—some money and probably other things—because if you were in a Roman prison, you were generally only supplied by your friends and family. So, Epaphroditus came with money, food, and whatever else Paul needed.

When Epaphroditus arrived, he got sick—so sick he almost died. Paul was worried about him, but he recovered. Philippians chapter 2 tells the story of how he was so sick but God had mercy on him, and Paul sent him back.

Now Paul is saying, “Epaphroditus brought your gift—thank you so much. It has taken care of me.” Epaphroditus was sick but recovered, and now Paul is sending him back with this letter to the church.

So, let’s read Philippians chapter 4. There are 23 verses. Often, I say that if you get nothing else from this morning, you’ll hear the public reading of God’s word. Amen?

Let’s go.

Philippians 4:1-23 (NIV)

Therefore, my brothers and sisters, you whom I love and long for, my joy and crown, stand firm in the Lord in this way, dear friends!
I plead with Euodia and I plead with Syntyche to be of the same mind in the Lord.
Yes, and I ask you, my true companion, help these women since they have contended at my side in the cause of the gospel, along with Clement and the rest of my co-workers, whose names are in the book of life.
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.
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.
I rejoice 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.
Yet it was good of you to share in my troubles.
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.
And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus.
To our God and Father be glory forever and ever. Amen.
Greet every saint in Christ Jesus. The brothers and sisters who are with me send greetings.
All God’s people here send you greetings, especially those who belong to Caesar’s household.
The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit. Amen.

You can really feel Paul’s emotions seeping through this passage—“You whom I love and long for, dear friends, my joy and crown.” He loves this church. He’s grateful for this church. And this is the end of his letter.

Let’s say a prayer together.

Father, we’re grateful for this time to be together as a church, for the community, the fellowship, the international fellowship we have—all over the world. It’s great to have the Paris couple here. We’re encouraged by the ways you’re working all over the world and the way you transform lives. God, give us humble hearts to your word this morning, soft hearts to hear what your Spirit once preached. God, we love you. In Jesus’ name, Amen. Amen. Amen.

I have three points this morning.

1. Guarded by Peace

Worry and anxiety are really modern epidemics. There’s so much we can worry about in the world today—finances, homes, cars, school, grades, health, family, kids, parents, romance (especially for some of you), politics, the state of the world.

If you keep track of the news, you know that there have been about 45 predictions of World War III in the last two years. Every few weeks, someone says, “World War III is coming again.” I get stressed about a lot of those things too.

And life just happens. My son—put the next slide up—broke his leg a couple of weeks ago. Just life. He’s on a trampoline here. He doesn’t look very stressed, actually. He’s got a tie-dye cast too—kind of good vibes.

But life happens. Things are stressful. Things worry us. Anxiety is always there—always something.

What’s ironic is that I was preparing this sermon and getting stressed about getting it done. I thought, “Oh man, this is kind of what it’s talking about.”

There are so many things we’re tempted to worry about, to feel anxious and stressed about. And what do we turn to in our stress? There are so many things we turn to in order to numb ourselves or to make ourselves feel less stressed—whatever it may be to get through a stressful time or situation.

So, I think today’s passage is especially relevant.

At the beginning of this passage, Paul talks specifically about anxiety in verses 4 to 7.

He says: “Let your gentleness be evident... 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.”

At first glance, sometimes when we read this and Paul says “Don’t be anxious,” it can be easy to think, “Great, thanks Paul! You really solved my problem. I was anxious, but now you said don’t be anxious, so I’m not anxious anymore.” And you fixed it all.

It’s kind of like when my wife and I are in a fight or disagreement and I say, “Sweetie, calm down,” and she immediately calms down, and magically the problem’s solved.

Not quite.

But, so in some sense, I could feel there’s sort of a tension or frustration with it a little bit, because of course, we don’t want to be anxious, Paul. Of course, we don’t want to worry. We don’t want to stress. But just telling me not to doesn’t always feel like it gets the job done. And it can almost become a punchline even in our church sometimes, like, “Okay, well, don’t be anxious,” and… so we’ve got to wrestle with this and dig deeper because it does beg the question, because Paul does command it: How do we really do that?

Actually, when he commands it, he doesn’t even leave us any wiggle room. Do not be anxious about anything. Do not be anxious about anything. It’s, you know, very similar to what Jesus will say in Matthew 6. We won’t read the whole thing, but in this very famous passage, three times Jesus says, “Therefore I tell you, do not worry, do not worry, do not worry.” And so, how do we do that? How do we do that is the challenge.

I don’t have all the answers today, but I think scripture does give us some insights. I have three subpoints to the first point—if you can follow along—these are quick ones, some practicals for an anxiety-free life.

The first one is the choice to rejoice, which is how the passage begins: “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again, rejoice.” Joy and rejoicing are a major theme in this letter. In fact, in the first three chapters, Paul uses the word rejoice five times. And then it’s almost like he’s saying, “I don’t know if you quite got that. I really want you to rejoice,” because he says it two more times here. Rejoice. Be joyful. He’s commanding them to rejoice. And it’s similar to the anxiety where it’s a command—how often should we rejoice? Again, no loopholes: Rejoice in the Lord always.

But I think the command— the fact that it’s a command—teaches us something important. It teaches us that joy and rejoicing is a choice. That’s right—not a condition, a choice. God would not command us to do something we cannot choose to do. Good point. We choose to rejoice because joy is not based on circumstances. Amen.

And the decision to rejoice, the decision to say, “I’m going to—God is calling me to be joyful, to rejoice in Him always”—that decision should have an effect on our anxiety. We’ll talk about more of this in the second point as we get there, which will be all about contentment.

The second practical here is the nearness of God. It’s just a few small words stuck in the middle of this verse: “The Lord is near.” Paul is reminding us. Now, it’s not entirely clear—is this spatially near to us, like God is here in this room, God’s presence? Or is it like, “Hey, Jesus is coming back soon”? One commentary I read said it’s probably a little bit of both—that we feel God’s presence, that God is with us, that God’s Spirit is working, and also Jesus is coming back soon.

I’ll tell you what: if Jesus was close to coming back 2,000 years ago, I think He’s a little bit closer today. There’s something about the nearness of God that should affect your anxiety in your life. God’s presence, God’s return—that should affect the way I stress and worry, that should affect my anxiety.

You know, sometimes my kids will wake up in the middle of the night crying, whether it’s a nightmare or something. In fact, it happened just last night right as I was falling asleep. More often it’s their mother who helps them, which I appreciate—especially when I’m preaching in the morning—but I help too. Something about the presence of mom or dad makes a difference. And the truth is, I’m always there, whether I’m 20 feet away in my room or right there with them. But presence makes a difference.

God’s presence in all of our lives should make a difference in the way we stress and worry. It should have an impact on how we approach the challenging situations that come into our lives.

And the third practical is the power of prayer, as it talks about in verse 6. There’s something that happens in prayer that affects our anxiety and worry. It’s not really a magical fix, not a silver bullet. God’s not Santa Claus—“Hey, I prayed once about that thing that was really stressing me out, and now I’m not thinking about it at all.” It doesn’t typically work like that. But something does happen in prayer.

Verse 6 and 7 explain it: “Don’t 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.”

The Greek word here for guard is phero—a military word meaning to guard, to keep with power, like a military guard. Philippi was a Roman military town, so Paul is using military language about how a soldier or military force guards something. It’s the same word Paul uses in 2 Corinthians when he writes about men guarding the city of Damascus with swords.

My wife grew up in Virginia Beach and Norfolk, which is home to the largest naval base in the world—at least, I think that’s true. Maybe fact-check that, but it’s true to my knowledge. Anyway, at Norfolk, you typically hear fighter jets five times a day doing training flights overhead. It’s loud—super loud. If you’ve been there, or to San Diego or other military bases, you know what I mean.

It can be annoying in the middle of a conversation, but there’s also a part where you kind of feel, “If things go down, I feel pretty good. I’m in a good spot. We’ve got the jets flying, they’re protecting us.” They keep upgrading their technology.

Now, I don’t know how you feel about the military budget—that’s a conversation for another time—but there’s something about that that makes you feel protected. That’s the military language Paul is using. That’s what prayer does to our anxiety: God’s power and peace work to guard our hearts against anxiety, stress, and worry. They set our hearts at peace in His presence.

Because Satan—Satan is battling for space in your mind, for space in your head. He has strongholds, as Paul talks about elsewhere. Satan wants us to live in anxiety and fear, but we can be guarded by God’s peace as we pray. We don’t always know how or when, but prayer does something.

The opposite is convicting, too—without prayer, we’re unguarded, no peace, no protection from anxiety. Some of us even in this room live that way—practical atheism.

I wonder, if people looked at your life and how you handle stress, anxiety, money, job, family, health—would they see that you are a disciple of Jesus? Or do you worry just like the rest of the world?

Living in anxiety is practical atheism.

God’s presence is meant to make a difference in your life—in how you worry, how you stress, and the things that make you anxious. We wrestle with it daily, but we’re meant to do it differently than the world. In that way, we’re meant to be a light to the world.

People will come and say, “Something’s different about you. Life’s not perfect, but you’re facing things differently. I don’t know what it is, but there’s got to be something to this God thing, because you’re not stressing like the rest of the world.”

It’s meant to make a difference.

It reminds me of Jesus’s words in Matthew 6, where He talks about the birds: “Look at the birds of the air. They don’t sow or reap or store away in barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?”

There’s a poem I read about this:

Said the robin to the sparrow,
“I should really like to know
Why these anxious human beings
Rush about and worry so.”

Said the sparrow to the robin,
“Friend, I think that it must be
That they have no heavenly Father
Such as cares for you and me.”

God’s presence is meant to make a difference. His peace guards us so we don’t live in anxiety like the rest of the world.

Those are some biblical lessons Paul gives us on dealing with anxiety. How do we deal with anxiety? We bring God into it—through prayer, through His nearness, and through trusting Him. That shapes the way we wrestle with these things and makes us a light to the world.

Let that be true here at Boston Church: we don’t stress like the world. It doesn’t mean we don’t have problems or worries or things come up—of course we do—but how do we handle it? We handle it differently.

Second point: Learn the secret.

(Water break! It gets hot up here sometimes.)

Learn the secret. Paul goes on—there’s so much in this passage, it’s packed full. We’ll hit as much as we can.

He talks about how the church in Philippi took care of his needs while he was in prison, and how grateful he is. He’s in prison, in chains—probably in Rome—and he basically says that whether he’s taken care of or not, whether he has food and money or is hungry and alone, he has this secret to contentment.

Sounds pretty good, right? The secret to contentment. I want that. What is the secret?

The secret is that your contentment has very, very little to do with your situation and almost everything to do with your relationship with God.

Sounds simple enough, but it gets complicated sometimes.

The Greek word for content is ataraxia. (That’s the second of three Greek words I’m going to throw at you today.)

Ataraxia was used by Greek philosophers—particularly the Stoics and Cynics—to describe a kind of self-sufficiency: sufficient in oneself, strong enough or possessing enough to need no aid or support, independent of external circumstances.

In their worldview, it was something you achieved on your own merits, a mental ladder to climb. I don’t know—it’s appealing in some ways: “I don’t need anything; I’m content regardless of my situation.”

Many ancient religions touch on this.

But what Paul does is interesting. He takes that word and concept and twists it. He says it’s not about being self-sufficient. It’s about being Christ-dependent.

It’s similar because in both cases you’re saying, “I don’t need anything,” but the reasoning is very different.

In the philosophical view, “I don’t need anything because I’m strong and independent and have figured out the world.”

Paul says, “I don’t need anything because Christ is strong and I rely on Him.”

When we do this—when we become Christ-dependent—we learn the secret. The situation matters very little.

As Paul describes, whether well-fed or hungry. And yet, how often do you and I make our contentment all about situations? I mean, our contentment becomes so quickly circumstantial. Things are going well—we’re content, we’re happy, life’s good. Things stop going well—we’re discontent. Contentment becomes a roller coaster. It becomes chasing after the wind.

And I do this all the time. My peace, my contentment—it so quickly becomes situational.

I’ve shared about this before, but we lived in Australia. I loved it there; I wanted to stay. We ended up having visa issues—that’s how we ended up coming back here to the US and coming to Boston. And even in all of that, I’ve wrestled with contentment. But it’s all circumstantial. It’s all situational. I’ve wrestled with that the last two years, and it wasn’t until I was asked to preach Philippians 4 that I thought, “I better start dealing with this stuff.” Because it’s in here, and I’ve got to work on my heart now.

But it’s all circumstance—where I live, job, people, friends, all these things. It’s chasing after the wind. “I won’t be content unless... I won’t be content until I get married, until I land that dream job, until I make enough money to retire early, until we buy that one house in that one neighborhood.” We could go on and on. What unbiblical thing would you put in that sentence?

This is the last Greek word here. When Paul says, “I’m whether I’m in need or I have plenty,” the word for “in need” is hysterosis, which is tied to being the last. So you’re in want because you’re last. And that’s connected—if you can tell—to the root word hysteric, which is tied to being hysterical.

I think when we are discontent and chasing after these things, we get almost hysterical in how we view these things. “I’m lonely. I’ll never get a job. I need more money. I need better health.” There’s a hysterical side to how we view and feel about all these things. “I’ll never buy that house. I’ll never afford that.” And we’re chasing situational contentment, this unattainable goal. It’s hysteria. Such a moving target.

Then sometimes, you do achieve your goal and you think, “I finally got the thing I thought was going to make me content.” And guess what? You’re still left wanting, because it’s not Christ. And that can sometimes be even worse. “I got the thing—the husband, the wife, the job, the money—whatever that thing was that I thought was going to be it, and I get it, and I’m still missing something.”

Real contentment is not about the situation. It’s about our hearts being close to Christ. If you can grasp that, that’s the secret. You make your contentment Christ-dependent. Nothing can take that away—even if you’re in prison and you don’t even have food, as Paul is when he writes this.

It’s something we have to learn. That’s what Paul says: I learned the secret. How did he learn the secret? Well, probably at some point sitting in a jail cell having no food, you start to learn what you really need. And maybe having plenty teaches you that as well. But he had to learn the secret.

Sometimes the only way to really learn it is to go through it, because challenging times expose what we really rely on. Are we going to be self-sufficient like the Stoics? Or are we going to be Christ-dependent?

Paul was no stranger to challenging situations. He writes about it in many places. In 2 Corinthians 11, for example, he talks about how he was flogged five times—forty lashes minus one—three times beaten with rods, stoned, shipwrecked, in danger from all these different things. He’s known hunger and thirst, often gone without food, been cold and naked. This is just one spot where Paul describes some of the challenging things he goes through. And again, on top of all that, Paul writes this in prison—and yet he’s learned the secret.

It’s interesting because earlier in 2 Corinthians 4:17, he talks about troubles and describes them as “light and momentary.” I don’t know if there’s one person in this room who would go through what Paul went through and say, “That’s light and momentary.” I’d be like, “My whole sermon is about the drama I just went through.” But Paul learned that contentment is not about circumstance—it’s about closeness to Christ. And it’s meant to shape how we live, particularly how we handle tough situations—anchored through storms by God.

I’ll share an example here to close out this point—a brother who’s not here, but he’s in our downtown region. I almost hesitate to share this because it’s emotional, it’s sensitive. But our brother—many of us know Josh Bradley. He’s in Albania right now, serving on one of our mission teams. He lost his sister earlier this year; she passed away unexpectedly.

Many of us went to the funeral. His family is in our South Cities region. I don’t know his parents, but I know Josh a bit. I went to the funeral, and it was, you know, in the ministry you end up going to weddings and hospitals and funerals, but this one was particularly memorable. One thing that really stood out was Josh’s parents sharing at their daughter’s funeral. One of the things they said was, “Many people face things like this and turn away from God. We’re committed. We’re going to make it through this. We’re going to become more like Jesus.”

That stirred me. That moved me. I mean, I don’t know how you say that at your daughter’s funeral.

Happiness comes and goes, but biblical contentment—contentment in Christ alone—that’s different. That’s built different. Situations happen; things happen. We’ve got to be a church, brothers and sisters, that learn the secret. The Bradley family is an incredible example of that—a call higher for all of us.

We’ve got to learn this secret. We don’t want to live on that roller coaster. Our contentment has to be Christ-dependent. That’s the secret. Nobody can take that away.

Last point here to close out is: Share in my troubles.

One thing that stood out to me as I studied this passage is the placement of verses 13 and 14.

Philippians 4:13 has to be one of the most famous passages in the Bible—maybe John 3:16 and then this, or I don’t know. It’s not a competition, but those are the big ones.

Almost everybody seems to think this is about being an athlete. They think Paul was in the fourth quarter, game seven, and he said, “Pause the game, let me write Philippians 4:13.” But that’s not the context. The context is your next meal in prison—that’s a little different.

The very next verse teaches us something important. (Go to the next slide.)

“It’s Paul’s most profound statement about Christ: ‘I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.’ But thank you so much, church, for supplying my needs.” He’s saying, “I only need Jesus, but I’m so grateful for you guys.”

We rip this verse out of context, and we miss that “yet”—which is often translated as “but”—is better understood as “but yet.”

“But yet, it was good of you to share in my troubles.”

Even when Paul is making his most profound statement about contentment, he’s immediately reminded how much he needs the church.

So yes, we learn the secret, and we rely on each other as we fight to live out that secret—which is really the main thrust of this chapter.

In fact, verses 4 to 9 are almost like a sermon—exhortations telling us what to do. But verses 1 to 3 and 10 to 23? The majority of this passage is about relationships. It’s about the church and each other. It’s relational.

Now, there are some practicals about anxiety and contentment and thinking in the middle, but really, it’s a relational passage.

So, let’s talk about a couple of quick practicals to close out here about sharing in one another’s troubles.

The first practical is: Stop fighting. Stop fighting, guys. Come on.

And the second practical… No, I’m kidding. I’ll talk a little more about this.

But that’s really what the beginning is all about.

Like I said earlier, Paul name-drops Euodia and Syntyche. Come on now. Imagine that.

Your little fight with that sister—you just couldn’t sort it out. And now heaven and earth will pass away, but these words will not pass away—and you couldn’t get along. You couldn’t work it out.

Let that be a lesson to all of us. It could happen to you, too. That’s what happens when we don’t resolve our fights, when we don’t humble ourselves and apologize.

Eternal name drops—in a bad way.

The next slide has that verse there, verses 2 to 3.

What Paul is trying to remind them of is there’s a bigger picture to all of this: we’re in a spiritual war.

He talks about how these women were contending at his side for the cause of the gospel. We all wrestle with discontentment and anxiety, but the last thing we need on top of that is to be fighting among ourselves.

We’re in a spiritual war. We need one another.

Some of us in this room, if we’re totally honest, have probably been fighting in the same way.

If Paul wrote a letter to the downtown region, would he be name-dropping you? That’s a joke—but also not really.

I mean, at one point, these sisters were contending for the cause, and they lost focus.

Our fights do the same thing.

We’re supposed to be contending for the cause of the gospel. We’re supposed to be seeking and saving the lost, helping people know the good news about Jesus, and seeing lives transformed like Jackie shared about.

I mean, APL, that’s what we’re supposed to be doing.

But we’re sitting here at church, and you can’t humble yourself and apologize. You’re grumpy. You’re bitter. You’re critical.

We’re in a spiritual war. Paul says there’s too much at stake. You’re in the foxhole. We’re supposed to be fighting Satan, and you guys are fighting each other.

That’s why he says apaproditis—you’ve got to help them out.

I imagine the public call-out and all that helped get it resolved.

But we’ve got to watch out for this.

We’re in a spiritual war, and we have bumps and fights, but we’ve got to be committed to resolving them.

Second—and finally—here’s a practical relational point: We want to give generously.

It’s interesting when you look at the timeline of Paul’s relationship with the Philippians.

He plants the church about 49 to 50 AD—it’s recorded in Acts 16.

He’s there probably only a few months—maybe even less—and then he doesn’t go back until about six or seven years later, around 56 or 57 AD, which is in Acts 20.

It’s sort of a passing through.

Now, he’s writing this letter around 61 to 62 AD from prison in Rome.

He hasn’t lived there for 11 to 13 years. He hasn’t even been there for 4 to 6 years.

Yet they’re still financially and generously providing for him.

And this isn’t the only time they do this.

He even says in verse 16, even when he was in Thessalonica, more than once in 2 Corinthians it talks about how the Macedonian churches, though not the richest, were the most generous.

Their overflowing joy and extreme poverty welled up in rich generosity.

It’s on the next slide.

As Stu talked about earlier, the Boston church is a very generous church.

But I think this stretches us, because a huge part of relationships and sharing each other’s troubles is financial giving to the church—and continuing to give year in and year out.

Again, they’re 11 years down the line.

That guy Paul who lived there for three months 10 years ago?

That would be a temptation for me—“We’re still sending him money? What is he doing? He’s in prison in Rome. Let the Romans feed him!”

But there’s a kindred spirit of community in Christ.

Great point—our financial giving is a piece of that.

Sometimes our wallets are the things most tied to our heartstrings.

There’s an old story where a guy goes to a therapist—this is a Mike Fondo story—and he opens up about everything in his life: all his deep dark secrets, all his mess, all his sin.

Then finally the therapist says, “Well, tell me about your finances.”

And he goes, “How dare you ask me that?”

Sometimes that’s the most sensitive thing for us to talk about.

We’ll talk about all sorts of other stuff, but what about financial giving?

We learn from this passage that we don’t just give to a person or a cause—we give to God.

Verses 17 to 18 say, “I want you guys to take care of me, and I’m good, but I want it to be credited to your heavenly account.”

He doesn’t say “heavenly,” but I want it credited to your account.

“I’ve received more than enough. I am amply supplied. I’ve received the gifts. They are a fragrant offering, an acceptable sacrifice, pleasing to God.”

It helped advance the gospel all the way to Caesar’s household.

We’re less than three decades after the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus.

We don’t know exactly what that means, but people in Caesar’s household are hearing the gospel in large part due to the financial giving of the church in Philippi.

Our financial giving does the same thing.

We heard Bruno and Marggo share that when we give, we give to God.

God works, and the gospel is spread.

Our financial giving has eternal impact—credited to your heavenly account.

Do you really get that?

Because I don’t know about you, but that compels me to want to give generously.

I think a lot of us have our banks that kind of do it, but we’re stirred in our hearts to say, “Let me be—let me understand it’s not just this money right now. There’s something so much bigger.”

To close, it reminds me—I don’t know if you’ve seen the movie Schindler’s List—but it reminds me of the last scene.

If you’ve seen that movie, this is a bit of a spoiler.

However, it happened almost 100 years ago, and the movie’s been out for about 25 years.

If you haven’t seen it yet, I’m sorry for spoiling it, but I feel like I gave you ample time.

The guy’s name is Oscar Schindler. He’s a German living in Germany during World War II.

He starts with a heart to help some of the Jews who were being arrested, persecuted, and killed.

He says, “I’m going to help them.”

But it’s through financial giving.

He’s a wealthy guy, uses his factory, bribes, and is basically able to save the lives of hundreds of Jews who would have otherwise gone to concentration camps and been killed.

At the end of the movie, his heart grows and grows.

He’s there with hundreds of the people whose lives he saved through his money.

He has this moment where he almost breaks down, wearing this coat, and says, “Why did I keep this coat? I could have sold this coat and used that money to save one more person.”

And this watch.

He’s kind of weeping.

But there are hundreds of people there saying, “No, thank you. You’ve saved us.”

They trace the lineage—they call them Schindler’s Jews now—and there are thousands of lives. There may be moments in heaven where we say, “Man, why didn’t I give more? Maybe that could have had gospel impact somewhere.” It puts it all into eternal perspective.

I think that’s what Paul is getting at here. He’s so grateful for their support—that this church, man, they’ve been taking care of him 11 years later.

So those are a few points from Philippians 4:

Guarded by peace. Learn the secret. Share in my troubles.

We don’t stress like the world here at Boston Church. We’re not supposed to stress like the world. We don’t chase happiness like the world. Our contentment is in Christ. 

And finally, we support one another in that cause—in love, friendship, relationship, financially, in every sense. We watch out for petty fights that try to get in the way of God’s great cause of saving the world.

Let’s take these things to heart—from Paul, from his life, from Philippians 4.

Amen.