This is now part 4 in my little mini-series on God’s provision, and I must admit that every time I dig into the book of Philippians, I’m more and more confounded by its depth, complexity, and immediate relevance to everyday life. Yeah, yeah, I know that all Scripture is God-breathed and profitable and therefore relevant. I’m a TMS grad after all! And while all books of the Bible are created equal, different books display their immediate relevance at different points in time and culture, and I think that that is by God’s gracious design. And the times we’re in now make Philippians a supremely relevant book of the Bible.

Last week I introduced two of the four keys that Philippians reveals about understanding God’s provision in your life. First, we saw from chapter 1 of Philippians that when we step back and look at our circumstances from a heavenly perspective—from the perspective of the one who cares about our souls—we’ll see ways in which God is providing that we might never have expected.

We also looked at Philippians 2, noting how a posture of humble servanthood is one of the keys to seeing God provide what you need to grow in Christ-likeness. And wrapping these two keys together is the unifying attitude of joy.

Now we come to chapter 3. This is where things get really personal. If the call to submission wasn’t enough, chapter 3 cuts us open like a surgeon’s scalpel—check that, more like a butcher’s cleaver—and exposes what’s on the inside.

key #3: joy while standing firm (Ch. 3)

Chapter 3 of Philippians is all about standing firm. That’s the overarching principle, and the summary statement in 4:1 makes it clear: “stand firm thus in the Lord.” The reality is that poverty and economic insecurities weren’t the only things the Philippians had to worry about. There were greater threats facing them than the risk of going hungry or defaulting on a house payment. Those threats were physical. But Paul was worried more about threats with spiritual implications.

First, there were the Judaizers who prowled about, preaching a kind of works righteousness that attacked the heart of the gospel. Their words seemed enticing and authoritative. But they were “dogs” who “mutilate the flesh” (3:2) and threatened to undo the Philippians’ faith if they weren’t careful.

But it wasn’t just false teachers they needed to look out for. Their lies and the religious system they followed were indicative of a greater threat. These people were outward sirens calling on the inward temptations of every person who has the inclination to place their confidence in their own flesh rather than in Christ. In other words, the Judaizers existed and their message was enticing precisely because every person thinks they have the spiritual resources on their own to make things right with God. It’s a lie, and Paul knew it all too well…

If anyone else thinks he has reason for confidence in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless. But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ (Philippians 3:4-7).

Paul had lived the life of the Judaizers. He had masqueraded as a righteous man, turning a blind eye to the ugliness of his own sin. He understood perfectly well what it meant to focus on the external while completely ignoring the internal. It took one encounter with the risen Christ to change his whole paradigm. His conversion experience had given him a new understanding of what it meant to have “loss” and “gain.”

That kind of language would have perked the ears of the financially-strapped Philippians as they read Paul’s letter to them. These are financial terms—banker’s verbiage. “Loss” was the debt column—numbers in the red. “Gain,” on the other hand, was assets adding toward net worth. It’s what really mattered. And what Paul had discovered was that everything he thought should be in the “gain” column was actually dragging him down. They weren’t assets to be collected, but debts that threatened his soul. They revealed the fact that, while he considered himself spiritually well-off, he was in fact bankrupt.

All that changed when he encountered Christ. His whole perspective changed:

Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith— 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 (Philippians 3:8-11).

This reveals something very important that has direct implications on how we understand God’s provision: your spiritual health is far more important than your physical health. Your spiritual bank account has a far greater weight than your physical bank account. Your spiritual storehouse matters far more than the size and contents of your pantry. And if this is true—and I think it is—then wouldn’t we expect to see a similar correspondence in the way God provides for our needs? Wouldn’t we expect that God would prioritize providing what we need to grow as a Christian? In fact, could it be possible that hard-pressing situations like the COVID-19 pandemic and the economic disaster accompanying it might force us to put less confidence in the flesh and rely more totally on the Lord and what he can provide? And could it be possible—just maybe—that through that (perhaps painful) process, God is giving us exactly what we need?

So, as good ‘ol Bill Shakespeare would say, “There’s the rub.” We don’t always think about what we need spiritually. Or even if we’re aware of it, we often don’t want to take the spiritual medicine that will heal our weakened soul. “My God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:19). Indeed He will…starting with what you need most.

Here’s the key in all this: joy. Paul ends this section by telling the Philippians to “stand firm” (4:1). Stand firm against external spiritual threats. Stand firm against your own pride and fleshly confidence. Stand firm. But even more important than how he ends it is how he began it. The chapter opens with these words:

Finally, my brothers, rejoice in the Lord. To write the same things to you is no trouble to me and is safe for you (Philippians 3:1).

While you’re standing firm, “rejoice in the Lord” (3:1). That’s the only way you can do it. Without joy, standing firm against spiritual threats will be a burden that will weigh you down. In fact, if you’re not careful, a joyless stand is just the same as putting confidence in the flesh. But having joy while standing firm shows that your confidence is outside of yourself. As Nehemiah 8:10 puts it, “The joy of the Lord is your strength.” Or, to quote Paul one more time:

I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong (2 Corinthians 12:10).

That’s standing firm in joy.