Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.

– Philippians 4:11-13 (ESV)

Of all Paul’s letters, his letter to the Philippians seems the most joyous. I don’t know as much about its historical context as I’d like, although my understanding is that he wrote it while he was in prison. Paul goes hard (that’s Thinklings slang for “Paul is awesome”).

”I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content”

This is an amazing statement. Whatever situation? I think of my own level of contentment; it varies, unfortunately, with circumstances; it’s not unusual to have my contentment gauge pointing at an eighth of a tank or less. But Paul was content, and he lived and worked in conditions and circumstances that would have literally killed us, comfortable progeny that we are of our modern and convenient era.

Notice that with Paul contentment wasn’t something that just happened. He “learned” contentment. Just as joy isn’t so much a feeling or the result of circumstances (it’s actually a command), contentment is something that is learned. I find it interesting that he doesn’t just practice contentment in the low, hungry, and needy times. He had also learned the secret of contentment in times of abundance and plenty. Isn’t that wise? So many people, perhaps you and I, live lives of discontent amid the luxury of the 21st century West – a luxury that the ancient world would not have been able to comprehend. Think for a moment of your clean soft bed or hot indoor shower. A toothbrush. Refrigeration. These comforts were reserved in ancient times for the wealthiest kings, if even them, and most of us enjoy them (and take them for granted) every day.

And what is the secret Paul had learned? “I can do all things through him who strengthens me.” As I (slowly) grow in my relationship with Christ the two words that increasingly make me grind my teeth, both when I say them and when those I love say them, are the words “I can’t”. It’s particularly galling because those words contain a seed of truth. There are many things God calls me to do that I “can’t” do, on my own. But He can. He can! Many things I continue to leave undone because I’ve allowed myself to rest, defeated, in the truth of my own inadequacy. But He can. He specifically promises to strengthen me in my weakness as I face life and the challenges, tasks, and struggles it presents.

I think care must be taken with this verse too. People justify all kinds of crazy ventures and activities outside of their giftings and callings by saying “I can do all things through Him who strengthens me”. But the context must be understood. What Paul is speaking of are the hardships, triumphs, emptyings and fillings that he encountered, sometimes in tidal waves, while on the road of God’s mission and will. If we follow Jesus we will receive and live the abundant life He promised, a life with high peaks and low valleys, a life lived with a joy we could never have imagined but also with frequent hardship and trials. And, if we’re wise, as we follow our Lord we will learn contentment and peace, so that the world will marvel.

And when we’re at the end of our strength and our mind is reeling; when we’re gasping out the words “I can’t do this,” God reminds us, gently but persistently, “Of course you can’t, child. I never expected you to do this on your own.”

“But through Me, you can!”

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.

– John 1:14 (ESV)

I don’t think I’ll be able to do justice to this passage, because the majesty of this truth is something that I can only grasp for short periods of time, if at all. I still look through a glass darkly. And even what I can grasp of this passage is too large for me, too breathtaking.

The Gospel of John starts with the following famous sentence, stated so simply, and already we are in waters that are too deep:

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”

This remarkable statement is followed closely by

“All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made.”

The Word that was with God and was God. Through Him all things were created, and (with the characteristic Hebrew rephrasing of important truths) “without him was not any thing made that was made.”

How mysterious, how awesome is this Word that John refers to. The Word of God – the great Logos through which He created the universe. The Word that was with God in the beginning, and was God. In here we begin to glimpse the amazing eternal relationship of Father and Son, of the One who speaks all things into existence and the One who is the very Word of God, through which

all things were made.

These are deep waters and high heavenly spaces which we are attempting to navigate. These words, written in the straightforward style of John the beloved disciple, contain a mystery, one that believers will have all eternity to enjoy. Because “the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.”

To have received the very words of God in revelation, as the Hebrews did from the beginnings of their history, was in itself an awesome thing. But who would have expected the Word of God to actually come and live with us? What an audacious act our Lord committed! No wonder Jesus was such an enigma to the religious leaders of His day. No wonder He confounded their preset ideas of how God would fulfill the prophecies of the Old Testament.

But much wonder when we think of His revolutionary act of love, humility, and sacrifice. The grace and truth of God, embodied in a tabernacle of flesh, able to touch, to heal, to laugh and cry with His followers. Able to kneel and pray, to be tired, to be hungry. Able to suffer, beyond anything we can imagine.

This is the glory of God. I’m learning more and more that, when you break the universe down to its basic truth, the glory of God is all that matters, and it is what all things point to. And we have beheld His glory.

In Jesus.

There was a certain man of Zorah, of the tribe of the Danites, whose name was Manoah. And his wife was barren and had no children. And the angel of the Lord appeared to the woman and said to her, “Behold, you are barren and have not borne children, but you shall conceive and bear a son.

– Judges 13:2-3 (ESV)

Have you ever noticed how many times the scenario above has played out in Scripture? The Lord visits the barren and declares ”Behold, you are barren and have not borne children, but you shall conceive”. Thus spoke the angel to the parents of Sampson, and to the parents of Isaac, and to the parents of John the Baptist. And to how many others?

God could accomplish His purposes through people with the equipment and qualifications to get the job done. But instead he chooses people like Manoah and his wife. Isn’t that His way? That’s what our God does. That’s who He is and one reason I love Him. He is the bringer of life to the barren. That’s why I was, as a young man, drawn to Him. What other god of this world – money, power, sex, human accomplishment, music, sports, fame — cares at all for the barren? None of them do. The gods that men gather to themselves don’t care for the brokenhearted, for the losers, for those whose last thread of hope has just snapped.

A little later in the Judges 13 passage, we witness this marvelous scene:

Manoah said to the angel of the Lord, “Please let us detain you and prepare a young goat for you.” And the angel of the Lord said to Manoah, “If you detain me, I will not eat of your food. But if you prepare a burnt offering, then offer it to the Lord.” (For Manoah did not know that he was the angel of the Lord.) And Manoah said to the angel of the Lord, “What is your name, so that, when your words come true, we may honor you?” And the angel of the Lord said to him, “Why do you ask my name, seeing it is wonderful?” So Manoah took the young goat with the grain offering, and offered it on the rock to the Lord, to the one who works wonders, and Manoah and his wife were watching. And when the flame went up toward heaven from the altar, the angel of the Lord went up in the flame of the altar. Now Manoah and his wife were watching, and they fell on their faces to the ground.

Judges 13:15-20 (ESV)

“Why do you ask my name, seeing it is wonderful?” Do you wonder if the angel of the Lord was smiling as He said that? The word translated here “wonderful” can also be translated “incomprehensible” or “beyond understanding”. What an apt description of our Lord: wonderful and beyond understanding. The Creator of all things, perfect in all His ways, comes with grace to the imperfect, barren ones and says “you are barren no longer!” He comes to the dead and raises us to life. He declares the poor to be rich, the weak to be strong. He declares those foolish in the world’s eyes to be wise, and He welcomes the lonely outcast to a place of deep friendship and a seat at the family table of the royal wedding feast. He is “the one who works wonders”.

He came to a world barren of hope, sending His angels on ahead to announce, once again, the birth of a Child to one for whom childbirth was impossible. She wondered “How will this be, since I am a virgin”? The answer to that question is the same answer that the hopeless heart receives when visited with the salvation of God; “the Holy Spirit will come upon you and the power of the Most High will overshadow you.” The Most High has the power to make possible our impossibilities, to answer all of our “How will this be?” questions. For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given. And His name is Wonderful.

This is Jesus, who breathes life into dry bones, opens deaf ears, makes blind eyes see the beautiful lights and colors of creation again, and restores strength and usefulness to atrophied limbs. There is nothing too hard for Him. He plants hope that grows in the impossible soil of our circumstances.

And He visits the barren ones and declares them barren no longer. Praise His name forever!

I’ve been thinking recently about satisfaction. Is it something that can be attained in this life for the follower of Christ?

I would conjecture that many, if not most, lost people are at some level aware of and distressed by the gap in their lives that can only be bridged by God. And I think many people spend a great deal of time and energy trying to fill that gap. They strive to find satisfaction by any means possible and to no avail, thus fulfilling the gloomy observation of the preacher in Ecclesiastes 6: “All the toil of man is for his mouth, yet his appetite is not satisfied”.

However, I also believe that there are a number of well-integrated lost people who do feel a great deal of satisfaction with their lives. How a person finds any satisfaction at all outside of a relationship to Christ boggles my mind. But I believe some lost people attain a form of temporal satisfaction.

So what do we make of the unsatisfied Christian? Is being unsatisfied a bad thing? Because I have a confession to make: I feel unsatisfied much of the time. Now, let me explain what I mean: by “unsatisfied” I do not mean “ungrateful”, or even “unhappy”. I have been blessed beyond blessing, and this I know well. Anyone looking at my life circumstances would agree with that. Regardless of the winds of trouble that blow on my life from time to time, God has been very, very good to me. So, with my lot in life I am far from unsatisfied.

And yet there is an uneasiness, a longing for joy in my core that sometimes speaks with a very loud voice. As David wrote:

O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you;

my soul thirsts for you;

my flesh faints for you,

as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.

Psalm 63:1 (ESV)

My understanding is that David wrote those words while physically in the desert, and his surroundings served as physical representation of the soul-thirst that he felt for his God. That being said, I believe David would agree: sometimes being in the desert is not such a bad thing. What growth he experienced in the hot sands! I’ve found in my own desert times that I cling to God more tightly, that I seek Him more earnestly than ever, that I do thirst and faint for His presence. And His presence and comfort become very real.

Yet for all that, here on earth we are kept (and for good reason, I believe) from experiencing God in His fullness. We are broken and bent, and even when redeemed and cleansed we are still too frail to endure His glory. While our victory was won for us on the cross and confirmed in the resurrection, there are reasons why we still have to practice faith, hope, and love. Faith, because we trust in what we cannot see. Hope, because what we will be still dwells in the future.

Beloved, we are God’s children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is. – 1 John 3:2 (ESV)

And love, because God is love, and we are God’s expression of Himself to a lost world, and to each other. And then back to Him as well. And Love will endure when there is no longer need for either faith or hope, because all shall be seen, all shall be known, and we will finally have become what He created us to be, unbroken, unbent, glorified and standing joyfully in His presence.

For all my talk of satisfaction and the desire to earnestly seek after Christ, I know that much of it is just that, talk. The world calls me, comfort calls me, compromise calls me. I wonder why I’m not satisfied and the uncomfortable answer is that, while no follower of Christ can be completely satisfied until he is home, I have, in so many ways, made the world my home and become comfortable here in this far land. Therefore the trudge toward my real country has become wearisome. There’s something about running with weights tangling your legs that makes for an unsatisfactory journey.

But my desire, hopefully to be coupled with action, is to set my sights more fully on the finish line ahead, and on the One who completes my faith. To cast off these weights. For joy and satisfaction for the Christian can be felt – even if only in snatches here on earth – when we are running unencumbered. When, smiling and with our head thrown back, we speed on our swift course with the landscape surging past us as we press on toward the goal.

. . . that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead.

Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 3:10-14 (ESV)