The Secret of Contentment
Philippians 4

I've been preaching a series on joy for the past four weeks. So it has a bit worrying to have my children look at me with concern and say, "You don't look very happy, Dad. Are you OK?" Or to have Carol say, "You're really stressed out, aren't you."

If I had to put an image to the way 've felt over the last couple of days it would be something like a puppet on strings. I feel like a marionette, and the strings that control my joy and peace and contentment are the people and circumstances of my life. When life is relatively calm, I have a measure of peace and content. But not on days like yesterday. I went from a 7 am meeting to a 9 am basketball game to another meeting, back to another basketball game, came home to help Sarah get the church bulletin typed up and copied only to find I'd left what we needed at the office, my printer cartridge had run out and copy cat print shop was closed for a holiday party. I was jerked around by circumstances and felt little peace and joy.

I don't think I'm alone. Our peace and joy is very often at the mercy of circumstances. I would guess that many of you feel as much empathy with this puppet as I do.

And that's what makes what God has to say to us in Philippians 4 so important and so challenging, because here God calls us to a peace and contentment that is independent of circumstances:

Philippians 4:10-14

Try writing your thank you notes like this this year. "Your giving spirit gives me great joy, but I really want you to know that I didn't really need your gift. I was really quite content without it." That is exactly what Paul is saying to the Philippians here: "Thanks for your support. I appreciate it. But I don't really need it." And the reason that I don't need it is because I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation.

The way Paul is talking here is not the way I normally think about contentment. When I fantasize about contentment, I don't think about being hungry or poor or in prison. The images I have in my mind all require that the circumstances of my life be just right. When the marionette strings are nice and calm, then I can be content. And my mental images of contentment are all along these lines. For example, when I think contentment, I picture an infant who has just been fed and is falling asleep in her mother's arms. She's satisfied, she's warm, she's safe, she has everything she needs, so she's content. Or I picture our dog, Celeste, sprawled next to me on the rug, feet in the air as I scratch her stomach. Well-fed, warm, no worries and someone to scratch where it itches. Or, I imagine escaping to a warm beach for a day with a good novel.

What all of these images of contentment have in common is that they all involve ignoring, escaping, or being insulated from the ups and downs of life. And they don't last. The baby will wake up hungry, the dog will be whining at the door in a few minutes, and a cloud over the sun can ruin the day at the beach. And if my life is like this marionette, then this is the only kind of contentment I can hope for -- passive, temporary, and dependent on no one jerking my strings.

That is not the kind of contentment Paul is talking about here. The contentment he claims to have comes from cutting the puppet strings. The word he uses is autarkes which means self-sufficiency, autonomy, independence. Circumstances no longer jerk him around, because his ties to circumstances have been cut.

And he gives us the secret to this kind of contentment in verse 13: I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. In other words, he is no longer the victim of circumstances -- in Christ he is the master of all circumstances. There is no situation in life where having Christ will not be sufficient for him. So the contentment Paul is calling us to is not the contentment of a day on the beach -- it is the contentment of the well-equipped soldier who is not afraid of the battle because knows he has everything he needs to do his job. Christian contentment is based on the confidence that at all times, in all circumstances, in Christ I have all we need.

If Jesus is ALL I need to face any circumstance, then why am I so often discontent?

1. I confuse what I want with what I need.

A couple of weeks ago we were at our Home Based Fellowship with the Bakers and Allers. And Benjamin Baker, who is a delightful two year old, was sitting with Scott, his Dad. And poor Ben was getting frustrated. We were singing Christmas Carols, and I'm afraid that Ben's priority at Home Based Fellowship is not singing. He'll put up with it for a while, but there are limits. Why sing when a basement full of toys awaits? So he was showing signs of discontent. this was not his idea of a good HBF meeting. And as Ben's frustration grew, Scott picked him up and gently said, "Ben, You can't always get what you want, but you can get what you need."

I learned later that Scott was quoting a great authority on contentment -- Mick Jagger. But in this case, the Rolling Stones and Paul are on the same wave-length. "You can't always get what you want, but you can get what you need" is a great summary of Paul's secret of contentment. I don't have everything my flesh craves for. I don't have everything my sinful nature wants. But in Christ I have everything I need to glorify God in any situation: I can do everything through Christ who gives me strength.

Indulge me for a minute in a little mental experiment. I want you to finish this sentence in your mind: "If only . . ." And I want you to finish that sentence in as many ways as you can possibly think of. "If only I had such and such . . ." "If only I was . . ." "If only so and so was . . ."
"If only church was . . ." If you have a pencil or pen, you may want to write some of these things down.

This is your personal discontentment inventory. Anytime I begin a sentence with "if only . . ." I am expressing discontent. I am showing that my satisfaction and happiness is tied to circumstances. I won't ask you all to share your lists. It would take too long. But I can imagine some of the things on them:

"If only I had more time" -- that's probably near the top
"If only I had more money"
"If only I was healthy"
"If only I had my Christmas shopping done"
"If only I was married"
or "If only I had never married"
"If only I was smarter or more articulate or better looking"
"If only I had more memory in my computer"

Now try this. Take each item and put it into this sentence: To glorify God, I need . . .

To glorify God, I need more time? To glorify God I need more money? To glorify God I need to be healthy? To glorify God, I need my Christmas shopping done early? To glorify God, I need to be married? To glorify God I need not to be married? To glorify God I need to be better looking? It glorify God I need more memory in my computer?

You get the point. All of these things that I WANT in order to make myself more comfortable or feel good about myself fade into triviality when I think about the ONE essential of my life, which is to honor an obey God. In the face of the one great NEED that I have, all of my WANTS seem silly and foolish. [If there is any lesson that Joni Eareckson Tada and others who have suffered like her have taught us it is that you can have everything taken from you, and still bring glory to God.]

So when you start to feel discontent welling up inside you, try this as a tool. Take whatever you are unhappy or frustrated about, and put it into this sentence: To glorify God, I need . . .

Confusing wants and needs is a great enemy of contentment.

2. Anxiety is another

My Dad sometimes gets sleepy while driving. But there is a quick and effective cure that is caffeine free. Put one of his sons in the drivers seat. He won't sleep a wink. Why? Dad's been used to being at the wheel all of his life. And he had the terrifying experience of having to teach his sons how to drive when they were teenagers. So when one of us is driving, he will not relax. He has to keep his eye on us, and keep his foot ready to hit the imaginary brake pedal.

It's not fair to single out my Dad here. Most of us become back seat drivers very quickly when we don't quite trust the one at the wheel. And when I'm a back seat driver, I can never quite relax. I can never let down my guard. I can't just sit back and enjoy the ride, because I'm anxious.

At its root all of my anxiety is back seat driving for God. I'm not really sure He's up to the job, so I have to do some of the worry for Him. But if Jesus really is sufficient for all circumstances, then there is no reason to be anxious.


3. One final enemy of contentment: prayerlessness

Here is a dialogue that may sound familiar:

"Ridge Hall computer assistant; may I help you?"
"Yes, well, I'm having trouble with WordPerfect."
"What sort of trouble?"
"Well, I was just typing along, and all of a sudden the words went away."
"Went away?"
"They disappeared."
"Hmm. So what does your screen look like now?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"It's blank; it won't accept anything when I type."
"Are you still in WordPerfect, or did you get out?"
"How do I tell?"
"Can you see the C:\ prompt on the screen?"
"What's a sea-prompt?"
"Never mind. Can you move the cursor around on the screen?"
"There isn't any cursor: I told you, it won't accept anything I type."
"Does your monitor have a power indicator?"
"What's a monitor?"
"It's the thing with the screen on it that looks like a TV. Does it have a
little light that tells you when it's on?"
"I don't know."
"Well, then look on the back of the monitor and find where the power cord
goes into it. Can you see that?"
"Yes, I think so."
"Great! Follow the cord to the plug, and tell me if it's plugged into the
wall."
"Yes, it is."
"When you were behind the monitor, did you notice that there were two
cables plugged into the back of it, not just one?"
"No."
"Well, there are. I need you to look back there again and find the other
cable."
"Okay, here it is."
"Follow it for me, and tell me if it's plugged securely into the back of
your computer."
"I can't reach."
"Uh huh. Well, can you see if it is?"
"No."
"Even if you maybe put your knee on something and lean way over?"
"Oh, it's not because I don't have the right angle--it's because it's
dark."
"Dark?"
"Yes-the office light is off, and the only light I have is coming in from
the window."
"Well, turn on the office light then."
"I can't."
"No? Why not?"
"Because there's a power outage."

This is an extreme case. But its similar to many others where the basic problem has nothing to do with the computer. An amazing number of computer or appliance problems are solved simply by plugging the machine in or turning it on. Which reminds me of many Christian counseling situations. When a believer is having serious difficulties in facing a particular set of life circumstances, very often the spiritual roots of the problem are very basic: They're not plugged in. The power isn't on. That's prayerlessness.

Imagine being married and going weeks without talking to your spouse. You share meals, you sleep in the same bed, you sit together -- but you never talk. And then you go to a marriage counselor and say, I need help, my marriage is just not working out. It would not take them long to diagnose the problem.

Prayer is as natural to the healthy Christian life as communication is to a healthy marriage. If you're not communicating with each other, no one will be surprised if you have problems in your marriage. And if you are trying to be a Christian without prayer, don't be surprised if you face situations with discontent and anxiety

Trying to make it through life as a Christian without constant prayer is like trying to do productive work at my computer without power or trying to make a marriage without communicating. If you are discontent or anxious, prayerlessness is a likely root.

One of our biggest problems with prayer -- and one of the devil's best strategies -- is to imprison prayer by limiting it to special times and places. It becomes a mysterious and sacred activity that is hard work and must be done in just the right environment. We must have quiet, and we must have plenty of time and we must not be distracted. That's like speaking to your family only at church on Sunday -- or only five minutes a day in the morning. It robs prayer of its vitality and power.

The secret of contentment is to be confident at all times in all circumstances that Jesus is all that I need. The way to build that confidence is by leading a life of prayer -- plugging yourself into the source of strength and power.

And that is exactly what Paul has said in verse 6: Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, 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 minds in Christ Jesus.

The enemies of contentment are many. Discontent is like a bad flu -- its everywhere, and its very easy to catch. Everywhere there are things to want, things to be anxious about and circumstances to make us unhappy. But the cure for discontent is quite simple: believe that Jesus is enough for you, and act on that belief by praying at all times and in all circumstances.

So here's my application for you this Christmas . . . renew your communication with God. He came a great distance and suffered and died for you to establish that communication. Make use of it.