A Generous Help

I rejoice in the Lord greatly that now at last you have revived your concern for me; indeed, you were concerned for me, but had no opportunity to show it. Not that I am referring to being in need; for I have learned to be content with whatever I have. I know what it is to have little, and I know what it is to have plenty. In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being well-fed and of going hungry, of having plenty and of being in need.

—Philippians 4:10-12

This is a strange “thank you” note to be sure, but that is what it is. St. Paul received an offering from the Philippians to see him through another journey, so he sends a note of gratitude. But reading closely, some questions spark our curiosity—had the Philippians not been so generous previously? a falling out perhaps? a dark valley for that congregation? Then St. Paul reflects on his experience as a missionary—times of plenty, times of want, learning to deal with whatever presented itself. Let’s think about all that Paul says here. We will find food for our journey, I am sure.

Most of us want to be generous. Altruism is really not foreign to most people. We want to be helpful. We want to alleviate suffering. We want to be of service. 

But we also know all that is within our lives that gets in the way. Time becomes an issue—with all of our family and work responsibilities, we find ourselves squeezed just trying to meet the daily needs of those dearest to us, so how will we find extra time to give to others? Then, of course, there is the money. We want to give, but we also see the stack of bills waiting to be paid. It costs to raise children. It costs to keep a house. It costs to own a car. It costs to find healthcare for everybody. Everything costs, and sometimes there just isn’t anything left. So, we find our generosity flattened by the very real world.

St. Paul offers us grace as we meet ourselves in the mirror. The Philippians were a strong congregation. Reading the whole epistle, we find Paul at his most joyous. The Philippians truly got the Gospel. They attempted to live it, taking to heart the call to embody the mind of Jesus (cf. ch. 2). But they struggled for all sorts of unnamed reasons. Persecution, simple poverty, or world events may have all conspired to thwart their ability to meet the need to practice missional giving. But Paul assures them that he knows their hearts are in the right place. He is simply delighted that times turned enough for them to get to really know the joy of being able to do all that they hoped to be able to do. 

Now that is a word of comfort for all of us. Sometimes we get very Old Testament about serving God. We assume God is never satisfied, wanting more and more and more. We understand the cry of the faithful wondering if God would be satisfied with rivers of blood from countless bull offerings, or even if God would only be content should sacrifice our own families (cf. Pss. 40 & 51). The truth, though, is quite different. God only wants us to give an honest effort, accepting what we are able to give to the best of our abilities. God is far more concerned with our hearts—that we practice love that meets the model of Jesus (cf. Micah 6). Sometimes we will be able to go above and beyond, but other times we will struggle to even find the Widow’s Mite. As long as we are able to truly and honestly declare we have done what we could, then we are all right. That work furthers the kingdom.

Which flows right into Paul’s next thought—he, too, knows what real life is like. He has had good times and he has suffered. He has had days when the supper table was full, and other days when there wasn’t much of anything. 

What Paul is pointing us to is the reality of the life of faith. Faith is never an escape from real life, but rather a way to find God’s redeeming grace in the midst of real life. 

There are moments when such a word is completely disappointing. We wanted relief. We wanted happiness. We wanted peace. To hear that life goes on comes as a flat word. It can lead to a “why bother?” on our lips. 

But Paul leads us back into Christ’s presence. Jesus did nothing if he did not enter real life with real people dealing with real issues. Our faith praxis is utterly rooted in reality. We will see the new creation sometime in the future, but right now, we need to be here and now, working as best we can to bring grace to whomever we meet, including ourselves. 

If we are in a hungry time, know that God is with us and there is a limit to its endurance. It will pass. Life does nothing if it does not cycle through ups and downs, ins and outs, emptiness and fullness. God is with us through it all. Let that bring comfort. Let that fire hope. 

If we are in a full time, then open your eyes and hearts to the world around you. There is somebody hungry needing a meal. There is somebody homeless needing shelter. There is somebody needing clothes and shoes. There is somebody needing a listening ear. There is somebody needing an open heart. 

The Philippians went through hungry times, but kept their hearts ablaze, so when fullness came, they gushed forth in a burst of generosity that lifted Paul through whatever valley he entered. See? God’s generosity kept them until they could respond in generosity all their own.

So it is with all of us. 

Wherever you are, there God is—with redeeming grace when we are empty; with a call to generosity when we are full. Suffering ends either way.

Thanks be to God.