Dont Covet!

Reading Time: 10 minutes

Philippians 4.4–9

The final sermon on the Ten Commandments preached at Nedlands Anglican Church 3rd March 2024

The most difficult of all the commandments is the last: “You shall not covet.” I once asked a congregation whether they had experienced jealousy. I asked anyone to indicate who had never been envious of another person. One man stood up. I was surprised there were any. Most of us know what it is like to see someone with something we don’t have, and feel jealousy. The commandment tells us not to covet; most of us would agree envy is bad, but do we have any control over it?

When Paul explained his inability to keep the law, he used this commandment as an example. (Romans 7) The law says one thing, but he found it impossible to keep. Does that mean it is a bad law, then: is the law bad? No, many of the troubles among human beings flow from envy. If there was no jealousy, the world would be a much happier place. The problem is not with the law, it is with ourselves. The law reveals to us the diseased state of our heart; that is Paul’s point. But is there a cure?

Jeremiah discovered the hard way how impossible it was even for Israel to keep the law, which was essential to maintaining their covenant with God. The law which should have brought life and health exposed their rebellious nature and brought them under a sentence of death. Something new and better was needed.

Behold, the days are coming, declares the LORD, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah, not like the covenant that I made with their fathers on the day when I took them by the hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt, my covenant that they broke, though I was their husband, declares the LORD. For this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, declares the LORD: I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts. And I will be their God, and they shall be my people. And no longer shall each one teach his neighbour and each his brother, saying, ‘Know the LORD,’ for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, declares the LORD. For I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more.

Jeremiah 31.31–34.

Two things here: the law needed to be written on their hearts and their sins had to be forgiven. Jesus came to die for the forgiveness of our sins, and he sent his Holy Spirit to write God’s law on our hearts; this was his mission—this was how he established the new covenant. And yet, even those who have the Holy Spirit continue to experience envy—well, I do.

Two members of a church just cannot get on—I am describing a typical problem. There could be a number of reasons; one of the commonest is hidden envy. There was the case of a woman who left her church because the minister had thoughtlessly asked someone who had just started coming, if they would like to do the flowers the next Sunday. That was her job. She had done it for years. It is even possible to be envious for something you have: possessiveness..

I have been reading Paul’s letter to the Philippians and wondering whether there could have been a problem like this in the church at Philippi.

About A.D. 50 Paul and his team crossed from Troas (Troy), to Philippi in Macedonia. Luke was with them; he had joined Paul in Troas. He wrote an account of their visit which you will find in Acts 16. Philippi was the first city Paul visited coming from east to west, from Asia to Europe; the Aegean Sea had once been the boundary between the vast Persian Empire and the land of the Greeks. There was no synagogue in Philippi, but a group of Jewish women met for prayer down by the river. The cloth-merchant, Lydia, believed in Christ—along with her family. A slave-girl who told fortunes was delivered from an evil spirit. The manager of the prison also believed. This was the beginning of the church in Philippi. Paul and Silas were arrested and flogged by the local magistrates, and forced to leave town, but Luke stayed on. The church grew to become strong; it was a generous supporter of Paul’s mission in Corinth. Some fifteen years later Paul was in prison in Rome waiting for a trial. The Philippian church sent him a gift, and he writes them a thankyou letter—Philippians. It brims over with joy—not because of the gift, but because of … well, what?

My Dad took us to see every new Disney movie that came to the local theatre. The first I can remember was Bambi; the second was Pollyana. Pollyana was a happy little girl who attended her parents’ local church. The preacher was very severe. “Death comes unexpectedly!” he would thunder from the pulpit. Sixty years later, I still remember that line, and the preacher in his pulpit. Pollyana shows him that the New Testament is a book of joy; Philippians is the book where this comes out most clearly.

“I pray with joy.” Paul says.

“In every way, from false motives or true, Christ is preached, and because of this I rejoice.”

“And I will continue to rejoice …”

“… your joy in Christ Jesus will overflow on account of me.”

“… make my joy complete by being like-minded…”

“… even if I am being poured out as a drink-offering on the sacrifice and service coming from your faith, I am glad and rejoice with all of you. So, you too should be glad and rejoice with me.”

 Paul speaks here of his possible death.

“Welcome him in the Lord with great joy … he almost died for the work of Christ.” 

This was Epaphroditus, who brought the gift, and is returning with the letter.

“Finally brothers, rejoice in the Lord!”

And then we come to what I want to focus on this morning.

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice. Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. Andthe peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4.4–7

 Philippians is known as the letter of joy, and with good reason, but Dick Lucas points out something that is often missed. It is also full of suffering. Paul writes from a prison-cell with a possible sentence of death hanging over him. Paul has Christian enemies who are preaching Christ “out of envy and rivalry,” who are making trouble for him while he is unable to respond. (Philipians 1.15–17) Epaphroditus was sick and almost died. There are heretics troubling the Philippians—“enemies of the cross of Christ,” Paul calls them, who want to rewrite the Christian Faith. And just before he calls on them to rejoice in the Lord always, he writes:

I entreat Euodia and I entreat Syntyche to agree in the Lord. Yes, I ask you also, true yokefellow,  help these women, who have laboured  side by side with me in the gospel together with Clement and the rest of my fellow workers, whose names are in the book of life.

Philippians 4.2–3

So, the church itself is not without difficulties: two of its founding members, women who have worked side by side with Paul, solid Christians of great stature, are at each other’s throats, and it is affecting the whole church. 

I am supposing it is envy of some kind that lies at the root of their fall-out. It may be something like a turf war, but that is pretty much the same, as I have said. The way Paul deals with it is the same as if it were envy. As you read back over the letter—and I invite you to do this when you have the time—you will suspect that most of what he says has these two women in mind. Mark each passage you come to which could be an appeal to two Christians at loggerheads.

“Rejoice in the Lord always.” Dick Lucas points out it is “always” which is the key word. Most of us rejoice when things go our way, but what about when they don’t? That he heavies the idea of joy is a hint that a deep unhappiness lies at the root of the problem between these two women. It is pointless speculating what it might be.

Paul, as I said, was waiting for his trial. He has been in custody for four years. He had much to complain about. But listen to him:

 I want you to know, brothers,  that what has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel, so that it has become known throughout the whole imperial guard and to all the rest that my imprisonment is for Christ. And most of the brothers, having become confident in the Lord by my imprisonment, are much more bold to speak the word without fear. It is true that some preach Christ from envy and rivalry, but others from good will… What then? Only that in every way, whether in pretence or in truth, Christ is proclaimed, and in that I rejoice.

Philippians 1.12–18

You can see where his joy is coming from. He is not just gritting his teeth and making the best of a bad show. He realizes God has put him where he is, and that there is purpose in it. He sees some of thi unfolding, as knowledge of Christ is spreading among Nero’s imperial guard. That matters more to him than his own comfort. His imprisonment is even encouraging some Christians to greater boldness in witness. Even those who are jealous of him are making the gospel known. This is awesome when you think that in two years time all hell will break loose against the Christians in Rome. How did Christianity come to the emperor’s attention, anyway? Could it have been its spread amongst his own guard? But that lies in the future. For now Paul rejoices to see God at work.

Rejoice in the Lord always—in good times and bad. Could this be an antidote to envy? I think it could be.

In Ephesians Paul says that “God does everything according to his will and plan.” In Romans he says, “all things work together for good for those who love God.” If this is so, then, of course, he is going to believe that his imprisonment is in God’s hands and purposeful. This is what we call providence. God didn’t just create the world—wind it up like a clock and leave it to operate according to its own laws. Yes, it operates on regular principles, but no, God hasn’t left it alone, he superintends every aspect of its existence. As Jesus says, “Not a sparrow falls to the ground without your Father.” Paul believed in God’s providence; everything that happens to him is part of God’s will and plan. 

In fact, what unfolded after Paul’s arrest in Jerusalem was way and beyond anything he could have arranged or imagined. He addressed a crowd in Jerusalem and was rescued from a lynching. He spoke with the Roman commander of the garrison in Jerusalem. He was able to address a meeting of the Jewish government, and again was rescued from certain death. For his own safety the Romans moved him to their headquarters in Caesarea, just north of Gaza, where he explained the gospel to the Roman governor, and then to his successor. Next was a chance to preach the gospel to the Jewish king, Agrippa II and his wife, Berenice. His appeal to Caesar put him on a ship where more than two hundred people got to see him in action. I am reminded of one of George Whitefield’s voyages to America. It was Sunday and he asked to lead a service on the ship. The captain not only agreed, but arranged for the sister ship that sailed with them to come up alongside and Whitefield preached to two ships’ companies at  once; I guess the weather must have been calm. Because of Paul’s shipwreck, the gospel came to Malta. And then we have seen how the gospel first penetrated the emperor’s guard. The Book of Acts breaks off, as does Philippians, with him waiting for his accusers to arrive for a trial, not before Nero himself, I think, but before a government magistrate. Incidentally, Paul was released this time, though a few years later he was rearrested and condemned to death.

This was Paul, but it just as true for you and me that our lives are in God’s hands, and once we have consciously surrendered to him as our Lord—once we get into line with his kingdom-building plan—his governance of our lives is all aimed at our welfare. I can say from my own experience that believing in God’s providence has been the most anxiety destroying, joy producing, and, yes, envy controlling thing in my life. 

Taking this on board personally leads to contentment. Listen to Paul again, speaking to the Philippians.

I rejoiced in the Lord greatly that now at length you have revived your concern for me. You were indeed concerned for me, but you had no opportunity. 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.

Philippiams 4.10–13

The Philippian church has sent Paul money to help him out in his imprisonment. He is grateful; they have brought him joy. The immediate reason for this letter is to thank them. But he doesn’t want them to think his happiness is tied just to their gift. No, he says, he has learned contentment in all circumstances—whatever may happen. I doubt he says this just to tell us about his own personal accomplishment. No, he wants this for us too. How does our faith in Christ fare when we can’t see how we are going to survive? How does it fare when we have all we need and more? When I mentioned the name of Jesus to a young chap the other day, he said he had given up on Jesus. Why? He told me about his battle with melanoma when he was fourteen: “Jesus didn’t help me.” He was completely free of it now; how did he know Jesus hadn’t saved him when he only had one chance in five of coming out alive, I asked. Hardship can turn people against God; so can properity. But Paul wants us to know that we can rejoice even in hardship; and not just in hardship, I am thinking even when we are feeling resentment towards someone because of something they have done, or haven’t done; for he surely still has Euodia and Syntyche in his mind. “God placed me in relationship with this person. God means me to ‘have the same mind that I have in Jesus”—think back to chapter 2.[6] “Rejoice—always, and I say it again, Rejoice. and let your forbearance be evident to all. The Lord is at hand.” The word epieikes means gentle, yielding. I can only think the rift between Euodia and Syntyche has hardened into bitterness, as these things often do. Paul knows how hard it will be for the two women to have the same mind again as they once had when they worked with him “striving as one soul side by side for the faith of the gospel.” (Philippians 1.27) He will call on others to help them. This is what has disappeared: their gospel-mindedness; not just them, but possibly the whole church has been affected. And it is this that matters. We are surrounded by a hostile world, which at any time can explode. If it does—when it does—we will need our Christian fellowship more than we know. “Striving as one soul”: “one soul” was one of a cluster of phrases that for Greeks meant friendship. 

Why are we here? We are here—if I may quote the letter again—“to be God’s children in a crooked and corrupt generation, in which you shine like stars in the cosmos, as you hold out the word of life …” (Philippians 2.15–16). Knowing God, knowing his care, will give us joy and contentment, whatever may happen. It will make our fellowship strong. “Rejoice in the Lord always; I will say it again, Rejoice. Let your yieldingness be known to all. The Lord is near.”