The Royal Treasury and the Secret of Contentment Text: Philippians 4:10-20
Introduction: The War on Want
We live in an age of managed discontent. The entire machinery of our modern economy is geared toward making you feel a constant, low-grade sense of lack. You need a newer phone, a better car, a different house, a more exciting vacation. You are perpetually one purchase away from happiness. And if that doesn't work, there is another kind of discontent available, the pious kind, where you can pride yourself on how little you have, turning poverty into a kind of spiritual fashion statement. Both are worldly. Both are slavery.
Into this noisy marketplace of manufactured desire, the prosperity gospel preachers come along and attempt to baptize the whole affair. They tell you that God is your divine concierge, and that if you just have enough faith, which usually means sending them enough money, God will give you the stuff you were already lusting after. This is not Christianity; it is mammon worship with a thin veneer of Bible verses. It is a transactional, vending-machine religion that is every bit as shallow and materialistic as the world it pretends to critique.
But the reaction against this is often just as misguided. Some Christians, in a rush to distance themselves from the health-and-wealth crowd, adopt a kind of adversity gospel, as though poverty and suffering were themselves the goal. This is just the other side of the same coin, a form of stoicism that tries to find holiness in grim-faced endurance. But the apostle Paul, writing from a prison cell, blows up both of these false gospels. He has learned a secret that makes a man immune to the tyranny of his circumstances. It is the secret of Christ-centered contentment, a truth that functions as a declaration of war against the spirit of our age. This passage is not about balancing your budget; it is about the economics of the kingdom of God, where the currency is faithfulness and the treasury is infinite.
The Text
But I rejoiced in the Lord greatly, that now at last you have revived thinking about me; indeed, you were thinking about me before, but you lacked opportunity. Not that I speak from want, for I learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am. I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in abundance; in any and all things I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need. I can do all things through Him who strengthens me. Nevertheless, you have done well to fellowship with me in my affliction. And you yourselves also know, Philippians, that at the first preaching of the gospel, after I left Macedonia, no church fellowshipped with me in the matter of giving and receiving but you alone. For even in Thessalonica you sent a gift more than once for my needs. Not that I seek the gift itself, but I seek the fruit which increases to your account. But I have received everything in full and have an abundance; I have been filled, having received from Epaphroditus what you have sent, a fragrant aroma, an acceptable sacrifice, pleasing to God. And my God will fulfill all your needs according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus. Now to our God and Father be the glory forever and ever. Amen.
(Philippians 4:10-20 LSB)
The Learned Secret of Contentment (vv. 11-13)
Paul begins by thanking the Philippians for their gift, but he immediately qualifies his thanks in a striking way.
"Not that I speak from want, for I learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am. I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in abundance; in any and all things I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need." (Philippians 4:11-12)
Notice first that contentment is not a natural virtue. It is not a personality type. Paul says, "I learned to be content." It is a discipline, a curriculum of the Holy Spirit. It is a fruit of sanctification that must be cultivated. This means that your discontent is not primarily a problem with your salary; it is a problem with your theology. You have not yet learned the lesson.
Second, this contentment is radically independent of circumstances. Paul has a master's degree in both poverty and prosperity. He knows how to live with humble means, and he knows how to live in abundance. This is not stoicism. A stoic pretends not to care whether he is hungry or full. A Christian cares, but his ultimate joy is not located in his stomach. His contentment is not the absence of feeling, but the presence of a greater reality: faith in the sovereign goodness of God. Paul's joy is anchored in the Lord, not in his situation, which is why he can have it in a prison cell just as easily as in a palace.
This leads to one of the most famous, and most misunderstood, verses in all of Scripture.
"I can do all things through Him who strengthens me." (Philippians 4:13)
This verse has been ripped out of its context and slapped on everything from coffee mugs to football players' eye-black. It is not a promise that you can be a CEO or a star athlete if you just believe hard enough. In its context, it is far more glorious. The "all things" Paul can do are the things he just listed: being abased and abounding, being full and being hungry. It is the power to remain faithful and content, whether you are feasting or fasting. It is the supernatural strength, supplied by Christ, to endure any and all circumstances without sinning, without despairing, and without abandoning your post. It is a verse about divine power for godly endurance, not worldly success.
The Righteousness of Gospel Partnership (vv. 10, 14-16)
Paul's contentment does not make him a rugged individualist who needs no one. He is not an island. His joy in the Lord is magnified by their fellowship in the gospel.
"Nevertheless, you have done well to fellowship with me in my affliction... no church fellowshipped with me in the matter of giving and receiving but you alone." (Philippians 4:14, 15)
Paul rejoices not because his belly is full, but because their love is active. Their gift was not just a financial transaction; it was `koinonia`, fellowship, partnership. They were entering into his sufferings by helping to relieve them. This is a crucial point. The gospel creates a new kind of economy, a new family, where believers bear one another's burdens, and this includes financial burdens. The Philippians understood from the very beginning that gospel ministry has a budget. Preachers need to eat, and it is the church's duty and privilege to support them.
Their faithfulness was exceptional. They were the only church that supported him in this way when he first left Macedonia. Their generosity was not a flash in the pan; it was a settled pattern of their discipleship. They were not just consumers of Paul's teaching; they were investors in his ministry.
The Worship of Sacrificial Giving (vv. 17-18)
Paul then clarifies his own motives, and in doing so, he elevates their gift to the highest possible plane.
"Not that I seek the gift itself, but I seek the fruit which increases to your account. But I have received everything in full and have an abundance... a fragrant aroma, an acceptable sacrifice, pleasing to God." (Philippians 4:17-18)
This is the heart of a true shepherd. Paul is not a hireling. He is not after their money; he is after their eternal reward. He views their gift not from the perspective of his own need, but from the perspective of their spiritual balance sheet. He wants to see "fruit" that increases to their heavenly account. This is why pastors must teach on giving. Not because the church has bills, but because the congregation has souls, and learning to be generous is a fundamental part of sanctification.
Then Paul uses the language of Old Testament worship to describe their gift. It was a "fragrant aroma, an acceptable sacrifice." In the new covenant, we no longer offer bulls and goats on a bronze altar. But we still offer sacrifices. Our financial giving, when done with a cheerful heart out of love for the gospel, is an act of priestly worship. It rises to the nostrils of God as a pleasing scent. This transforms giving from a dreary duty into a delightful act of devotion. You are not just paying the electric bill at the church building; you are participating in the worship of the living God.
The Promise of the Royal Treasury (v. 19)
Having commended their sacrificial giving, Paul now makes one of the most magnificent promises in the New Testament.
"And my God will fulfill all your needs according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus." (Philippians 4:19)
This is divine reciprocity. Because you have met my need, my God will meet all your needs. This is not the crass transactionalism of the prosperity gospel. It is a covenant promise. God, the honorable king, will not allow those who finance His kingdom to go bankrupt. He will see to their provision.
Notice the scale of this provision. He will supply all your needs, not all your greeds. And He will do so "according to His riches in glory." The supply is not measured by the state of our economy, but by the infinite wealth of heaven. God's bank account can never be overdrawn. The source of our supply is limitless. But there is a crucial qualifier. This supply is "in Christ Jesus." There is no access to the Father's treasury except through the Son. All of God's blessings, material and spiritual, flow to us only because we are united to Christ. He is the mediator of every good gift.
The Ultimate Dividend (v. 20)
The entire economic cycle of the kingdom, from our contentment to our giving to God's provision, has one ultimate goal.
"Now to our God and Father be the glory forever and ever. Amen." (Philippians 4:20)
This is the final destination of every dollar you give. It is not to build a bigger building or to pad a pastor's salary. It is for the glory of God. When we learn contentment, God is glorified. When we give sacrificially, God is glorified. When He provides for our needs out of His glorious riches, He is glorified. Christian economics is not about getting rich. It is about a glorious circular flow of grace where our lives, our work, and our resources are all consecrated to one ultimate end: the praise of our God and Father.
So the question for us is simple. Are we caught in the world's anxious cycle of want and waste? Or have we learned the secret of contentment? Is our giving a reluctant payment of dues, or is it a fragrant act of worship? And do we trust that our Father, who owns the cattle on a thousand hills, will supply all our needs from His royal treasury? Let us live and give in such a way that all the glory goes to Him.