Philippians 4:11–19

In the corrupt heart of man, a word of thanks can be a veiled hint that more help would be welcome. The Apostle cuts off all thought of this by the words, "I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content."

Paul would not want them to think he was speaking out of covetousness. He did not want to suggest that he had been suffering because they had not sent sooner to meet his need, as though he hoped they might send further gifts. It is not easy to write about such things. You have to express the deep gratitude that is in the heart, and at the same time avoid any suggestion of covetousness.

"Not that I speak on account of want, for I have learned in whatever circumstances I am, to be content." (Literally, to be self-sufficing, as a country that needs no imports, but supplies everything it requires.)

"I have learned." The Apostle does not say, "I have heard that in every state I should be content." He says, "I have learned." It is not enough for Christians to hear their duty, they must learn their duty. It is one thing to hear, and another thing to learn; as it is one thing to eat, and another thing to digest food. Christians hear much, but, it is to be feared, learn little.

It is a high attainment in the school of Christ to be able to say, "I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content" (Phil. 4:11). Paul had to learn this. It was not natural to him; and most surely he never learned it at the feet of Gamaliel. Saul of Tarsus would never have been content with the very highest attainments in this world. He had to be thoroughly broken down at the feet of Jesus of Nazareth, before he could say from his heart, "I am content."

He meant that he could do all things; he had learned it. It was a real state for him, not an abstract proposition. "I am instructed both to be full and to be hungry." If I am full, He keeps me from being careless, indifferent and self-satisfied. If I am hungry, He keeps me from losing heart and growing dissatisfied. With him it was not "a man can," but "I have found Christ so sufficient in every circumstance that I am under the power of none." He had been beaten with rods; five times he received from the Jews forty lashes less one; he had been stoned, and he had gone through all sorts of things; but he had found Christ enough in them all.

This is the great design of the letter: not truth simply made known, but experience grown into… At the same time he shows how he valued their love. He takes care that his independence was founded on dependence — an independence of circumstances that finds its strength in simple and absolute dependence upon God.

This is not natural to human nature. Even Paul may not always have known it; he had learned it.

Stoical indifference did not harden Paul against the ups and downs of life. Natural strength of character did not make him superior to the burdens that crush ordinary people. What he was practising he had first learned through a secret initiation into his Teacher's ways.

"I have been initiated" is another word found nowhere else in Scripture. It comes from the same root as our word mystery. People used it for the secret religious rites of paganism, and for initiation into them. They guarded these rites closely from common knowledge... Paul's use of this word to supply language for Christian experience is very suggestive. The knowledge of the peace of God, of utter contentment, is indeed an open secret, open to "whoever will learn of Him." But it is a secret, a mystery, none the less.

Let us note his emphasis on the word "how." For it is all too possible to be abased and to take it in a wrong spirit. Not so with the apostle: "how to be abased" implies a cheerful acceptance of God's will in it. On the other hand, "how to abound" is in some ways a harder test for many of us. It calls for a right and godly use, according to the will of God, of the things in which He has made us abound.

It is easier for some to be abased than to abound. David, when hunted like a partridge on the mountains, trusted God; when living at ease in Zion, Satan lured him into the foulest sins. Jehoshaphat, when weak, counted on God, saying, "We do not know what to do"; when strong and rich, he allied himself with Ahab and helped the ungodly.

There are many reasons why the servant of God should walk this path. Perhaps the first is that we then learn, as perhaps in no other way, the faithfulness, the love, and the power of God. When the earthly props are removed, then we find out what a wonderful thing it is to lean on the Father's arm.

At the same time he shows how much he valued their love. He is careful that his independence was founded on dependence. It was an independence of circumstances that finds its strength in simple and absolute dependence upon God.

A wonderful thing for a man in prison to say — one who seemed to be in the most miserable circumstances, and in no small danger. He was unable to do anything, men would say. But faith speaks according to God. The man who can do nothing in the judgment of his fellows is the very one who could say he had strength for all things in Him who strengthened him.

People say, Oh! we can do all things through Christ, as a kind of absolute truth. I say, Can you? You cannot. This is perfectly true as an absolute statement, but it is not what the apostle meant. He meant that he could do all things; he had learned it. It was a real state for him, not an abstract proposition. If full, He keeps me from being careless, indifferent, and self-satisfied; if hungry, He keeps me from being cast down and dissatisfied. He had found Christ so sufficient in every circumstance that he was under the power of none.

The word translated "empowering" is the word from which we get dynamite and dynamo. What mighty power is expressed in each of those words! But the One who empowered Paul was mightier than all dynamite and all dynamos. Our Lord Jesus said truly, "apart from me you can do nothing" (John 15:5). But here we have the other side: in the One empowering us, we can do all things.

People sometimes say, "We are such poor things, we can do nothing." This may sound very humble, but it is not Christianity. Paul's Christ is ours, and His strength avails for us as it did for him. If He calls you to follow a certain path, or to do a certain work for Him, He will give you strength for both. His commands are all enablings.

In the first chapter it is Christ our Life (Phil. 1:21). In the second chapter it is Christ our Pattern in lowliness (Phil. 2:5). In the third chapter it is Christ our Object in the glory (Phil. 3:14). In the last chapter it is Christ our Strength, to meet all our needs (Phil. 4:13).

The Apostle was not in any sense dependent on the gifts of the Philippian saints or of anyone else. He wanted them to know it. Yet he assures them, in a very delicate and beautiful way, that he felt fully the love and devotion behind their gift — love towards the Lord, and towards himself.

He could indeed take refuge in God; but it was sweet to him in the Lord to have this testimony on their part.

Fellowship in the Gospel (Philippians 1:5). Fellowship together in grace (Philippians 1:7). Fellowship of the Spirit (Philippians 2:1). Fellowship of His sufferings (Philippians 3:10). Fellowship together in affliction (Philippians 4:14). Fellowship in giving and receiving (Philippians 4:15). Fellowship in ministry to the saints (2 Corinthians 8:4). Fellowship in its perfection — seven times — is found here, for all of these use the same word in the Greek Testament, though English translates it differently. Philippians 1:7 and Philippians 4:14 add the little word "together," making it fellowship together. So we are not wrong in saying that fellowship is a main theme of the letter: fellowship with Christ, and with one another.

What made Paul rejoice was not the gift so much as the love that made these dear saints share in his afflictions. Not everyone is willing to be known as the friend of a man in jail. But these saints often refreshed Paul, as Onesiphorus did a little later, and they were not ashamed of his chain.

These cases are recorded for us with care. They tell us how precious it is in God's sight to take part in tribulation for the sake of the Gospel. Paul had to urge Timothy not to be ashamed of the testimony about our Lord, or of him His prisoner. Timothy was to "share in suffering for the gospel." Moses considered the reproach of Christ greater wealth than the treasures of Egypt — and so did the saints in Philippi. And the Spirit says to them, "You did well," or, as it may be translated, "You did nobly."

They had surely done both well and wisely in what they did. Such thoughts and acts on their part were both lovely and of good report. For in ministering to one who counted himself less than the least of all saints, they were ministering to the Lord.

The Philippians' devotion here stood out all the more because they were very poor. 2 Corinthians 8:2 tells us so. They had also been in much affliction themselves, and they had experienced much joy in the Lord. All this is very instructive for us. Often we are unsympathetic and stingy. That is because our own experience of suffering and of spiritual refreshment is so very shallow.

In some passages, both in Mark and in the Letters of Paul, the word "gospel" points to a system of doctrine — the substance of the message of good news, not the act of proclaiming it. Elsewhere Paul says that "the Lord commanded that those who proclaim the gospel should get their living by the gospel" (1 Cor. 9:14). These men preach a doctrine, but they do not live off a doctrine. It is by their service that they live, while preaching the doctrine… In Philippians 4:15, by the expression "the beginning of the gospel" he points out the beginning of the preaching of this good news.

God called both Corinth and Philippi into the fellowship of His Son. But Philippi knew a fellowship that Corinth was a stranger to. Corinth needed the reminder that God had "commanded that those who proclaim the gospel should get their living by the gospel." Philippi needed no such reminder. The Lord opened Lydia's heart. She then opened her house to His servants, and the group of believers she belonged to locally opened their purse. They sent "once and again" an expression of fellowship.

It appears that he rarely received gifts from the people of God. Perhaps he met few even among them who could have been trusted. It would have done harm because of their lack of spiritual feeling. They might have thought something of it, or the gospel might have suffered in their minds or with others through it. But the Philippians were simple and spiritual enough. We know what delicate feelings the power of the Spirit can produce. So they had the privilege of ministering to his needs.

Paul says it was "in the beginning of the gospel" — as I understand it, in the early days of the gospel in Europe — that "no church entered into partnership with me in giving and receiving." It is possible that later on some of the other assemblies did have fellowship with him in this way. But Paul tells us that his "reward" for preaching the gospel is, "that in my preaching I may present the gospel free of charge" (1 Cor. 9:18). That seems to have been the principle Paul generally worked on; but the assembly at Philippi was a very bright exception: from them again and again he received gifts.

Love is never forgetful; it treasures up acts of service. And the apostle treasured up in memory the ways in which he had been cared for. God delights in service done to His saints; even what is done to the world He delights in too.

Right after their conversion they helped support him. They sent help to him twice while he was in Thessalonica (ch. 4:16), at a time when he received nothing from other assemblies… Moreover it was by no means wealth that made this possible. Writing to Corinth, Paul mentions the churches of Macedonia. In a severe test of affliction, their abundance of joy and their extreme poverty overflowed in a wealth of generosity.

In the letter to the Philippians we have a sweet instance of how an assembly cared for the apostle Paul from the very first (Phil. 4:15). He had hardly left before he received at Thessalonica a love-gift to supply his need… This was no cold, formal dropping of money into the box each week for workers they did not know, or paying into a ministers' fund. The assembly had the worker's need on their heart, and their own messenger carried the gift.

An assembly would be to blame if they knew an evangelist was working and did not help him. They would be losing one of their privileges. The Philippians were very eager to do it… Locality makes no difference. An evangelist is a servant of Christ, not of the assembly.

As far as we know, Paul was only in Thessalonica for a short time. It may have been just three weeks, though we cannot be sure. But at least twice in that short time, the believers in Philippi sent gifts to him.

Poor as they were, they clearly understood Paul's need and felt it deeply. They sent to him as soon as they could. They did not hold back until they could raise a bigger amount; they sent what they had as they got it. This is typical of the poor who love the Lord.

I have no doubt that every one of these gifts was a sacrifice — but they were "sacrifices of joy." And they, in their deep poverty, were the only ones making these sacrifices... You do not need wealth to be generous... The apostle gladly accepted the gifts of the Philippian believers, though he would accept nothing from the wealthy Corinthians.

The Greek word for it comes from the word used for "partners" in Luke 5:10. James and John were partners with Simon in the fishing business... When Paul was preaching in Thessalonica and the believers in Philippi sent him gifts, they were sharing jointly in the gospel — "fellowship in the gospel."

Galatians 6:6 says, "Let the one who is taught the word share all good things with the one who teaches." In the letter to the Philippians we have a lovely example of how a church cared for the apostle Paul from the very first. He had only just left them when a love-gift reached him at Thessalonica to meet his need... This was no cold, formal matter of putting so much into the money-box each week for workers nobody knew, or giving so much into a ministers' fund. The church carried the worker's need on their heart, and their own messenger delivered the gift.

Love never forgets; it stores up acts of service. The apostle kept in his memory every way they had cared for him. God delights in service done to His saints.

With them it was no case of "out of sight, out of mind." They had kept him in their hearts while he was away. This touched him deeply — though, as he assures them, "not that I seek the gift, but I seek the fruit that increases to your credit."

It may well seem strange to us, reading these words, that the Thessalonians were so slow to recognise and claim one of their highest privileges. The same witness records their "work of faith and labor of love and steadfastness of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ." So let us not only wonder as we read; let us learn. The lesson is for us. The grace they once lacked was given to them later.

For no personal end did he mention their grace. It was not that he wanted more. We know well that, as men have said sarcastically, gratitude is a kind of fishing for fresh favours. There was the very reverse in Paul's case. As he tells them, fruit that might abound to their account was all that his heart really yearned after.

In another place Paul wrote, "I seek not what is yours but you" (2 Corinthians 12:14). No one could ever accuse the apostle of covetousness. Paul valued the gift deeply. He rejoiced greatly that their care for him had bloomed again. And we may suppose the gift was much needed. Still, it was not the gift that Paul sought, or that so gladdened his heart. It was the fruit abounding to the account of his dear Philippian brothers.

We must notice the difference between works and fruit. Works make us think of our own doing. Fruit makes us think of another power within. That power draws its strength from the sunshine, the ground and the air, and forms these things into the "precious fruits of the earth." … And the fruit grows, without noise or labour on our part, by an unseen power within.

Bishop Moule translates this part: "Not that I am in quest of (almost, 'I am hunting for') the gift, the mere sum of money in and for itself. But I am in quest of the interest that is accumulating to your account." In a note he adds: "I venture to render these words as a monetary phrase, relating to principal and interest." He adds that Chrysostom, a Greek, seemed to understand it this way.

Paul again disclaims all personal aims, and he does it with the day of God in view. He would have them know that his own joy and glory in that day would be in proportion to theirs. So for this faithful steward of God's mysteries, receiving their generosity now is a pledge of greater honour in that day for them. Under his training they had learned so well to imitate the ways of God.

Some have large sums to their credit down here. But as regards their account in Heaven they are desperately poor. They have little or no fruit stored up there. They may find that their toil has produced "nothing but leaves."

Let us not forget that the fruit was to be "to the glory and praise of God." Our Lord said the same to the disciples: "By this my Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit." It was in the very matter of giving that the Apostle wrote, "Whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully." So Paul was justified in seeking an abundance of fruit to their account.

Notice the variety of words the Apostle uses for how richly his beloved brothers from Philippi supplied him. I think there are five different words here to tell out the bounty and the fullness. The word translated "I have to the full" may mean just what we take it to mean here. Or it may be a technical term used on a receipt, meaning "Received Payment." If "all things" follows, as here, it means "Received Payment in full." But I do not suppose Paul is using it in this technical sense here. And it is not enough for Paul to say, "I have all things to the full." That tells us his cup is full. But he goes on: "and I am running over."

Epaphroditus brought supplies from Philippi to Paul, who calls him "my brother and fellow worker and fellow soldier." While with Paul at Rome he became very ill, "near to death." His sorrow that the Philippian believers had heard of his sickness shows the deep affection between them. He risked his life by his link with Paul, a prisoner.

The whole thing pictures one of the sacrifices in the Old Testament, perhaps Noah's sacrifice when he came out of the ark. Paul describes the Philippian believers' "sacrifice" with the very same words the Greek Old Testament uses for Noah's: "a fragrant offering." The Greek Old Testament uses those same words for the "pleasing aroma" offerings in Leviticus, as in Lev. 1:17. The same two words appear again in Eph. 5:2, used of our Lord Jesus Christ, who "loved us and gave Himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God." That is what the gift of these dear Philippian believers was to God. Paul almost forgets that it was given to him. He thinks of it only as given to the Lord Jesus Christ Himself. And Paul was right, for the Lord said, "as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me."

But remember: mere giving would not make the gift a sacrifice — giving reluctantly, for example, or only because someone pressed for it. As in the sacrifice of praise, the giver must present the gift through Christ, to God, in the power of the Spirit. Only such gifts can be called "a fragrant offering, a sacrifice acceptable and pleasing to God."

Their gift to him was "a fragrant offering, a sacrifice acceptable and pleasing to God." What a God is ours, to treat this way the thing tied to this world that Christ Himself calls "unrighteous wealth"! His goodness can take it up and make it fragrant even to Himself.

By the world's standards it may have been small. But it was of immeasurable value to God, because the Spirit of Christ produced it… Nothing that carries the fragrance of Christ can be small or of slight value to God. The widow's "two small copper coins" have reached every place where the fragrance of His name is made known (Luke 21:2-4). To use the language of men, may we not say that God's attention is caught wherever He detects even a faint trace of the fragrance of His Son produced by His grace?

Notice the closeness in "my God." It is emphatic. It is like saying: I know Him. I can answer for Him. I have come through all kinds of things, and I can promise you He never failed me. I know the way He acts even in the small things of everyday life.

The God whom he had learnt to know so well in all circumstances — my God, as he called Him — would supply all their need. It is not a wish that He may do so, nor a prayer that he prays, but it is an assured fact.

Would such a God allow them to suffer need because of their generosity? Far from it! The apostle had learned well by experience how fully his God could supply... But be clear about this: such giving is the thoughtful service of deep love for Christ. We are seriously responsible, not simply to give, but to give in a way that honours the Lord. This means searching our hearts about when, where, and how to give. We could not rightly expect God to supply our needs if we wasted what He had entrusted to us.

God would be their Supplier. He would not measure by their need, nor even by Paul's strong desires for them, but by His own riches in glory in Christ Jesus. It would have been wonderful if God had bound Himself to supply them according to His riches on earth in Christ Jesus. His riches in glory are more wonderful still. The Philippians, or we ourselves, may never be rich in the things of earth and yet be enriched in the things of glory.

A millionaire might give a penny to a beggar, but he would not be giving according to his wealth. Our God is the 'Giving God,' and the Lord Jesus said, 'It is more blessed to give than to receive.'

Let us notice it is all our need that My God promises to supply; our need, as one has pointed out, not our greed. And I am so glad it means our spiritual needs as well as our daily ones. It covers the needs of our soul and our spirit, and these are often greater than the needs of our bodies... And the promise is, "My God will supply every need of yours." Whether we read every or all here, the word is singular. So we are meant to look at each need on its own. We may spread them out before "my God" one by one.

Am I in want? I can go to God about it. He is the Owner of heaven and earth. The treasures of the universe are at His disposal. He can help me if He sees it to be good for me; and if not, the pressure will be much better for me than the relief... Why look to some lesser supply? Why turn from such a God and take our wants to a human being? In doing that we give up, to that extent, the ground of faith — the life of simple dependence on God. It is actually dishonouring our Father.

He is supplying the saints now according to all the wealth of His resources even in glory in Christ. In glory not even a trace of need will exist, but God is acting on those same riches now. Therefore the Apostle breaks out in praise to God at once. "To our God and Father be glory forever and ever. Amen."