Paul has nothing to bestow, but he serves a great God who will see to it
that no man is the poorer by helping His servants. The king's honour is
concerned in not letting a poor man suffer by lodging and feeding his
retainers. The words here suggest to us the source from which our need
may be filled full, as an empty vessel might be charged to the brim with
some precious liquid, the measure or limit of the fulness, and the
channel by which we receive it.
Paul was so sure that the Philippians' needs would all be satisfied,
because he knew that his own had been; he is generalising from his own
case, and that, I think, is at all events part of the reason why he says
with much emphasis, '_My_ God. As He has done to me He will do to you,'
but even without the 'my,' the great name contains in itself a promise
and its seal. 'God will supply just because He is God'; that is what His
name means--infinite fulness and infinite self-communicativeness and
delight in giving. But is not so absolutely unlimited a promise as this
convicted of complete unreality when contrasted with the facts of any
life, even of the most truly Christian or the most outwardly happy? Its
contradiction of the grim facts of experience is not to be slurred over
by restricting it to religious needs only. The promise needs the eye of
Faith to interpret the facts of experience, and to let nothing darken
the clear vision that if any seeming need is left by God unfilled, it is
not an indispensable need. If we do not get what we want we may be quite
sure that we do not need it. The axiom of Christian faith is that
whatever we do not obtain we do not require. Very desirable things may
still not be necessary. Let us limit our notions of necessity by the
facts of God's giving, and then we, too, shall have learned, in
whatsoever state we are, therein to be content. When the Apostle says
that God shall fill all our need full up to the brim, was he
contemplating only such necessities as God could supply through outward
gifts? Surely not. God Himself is the filler and the only filler of a
human heart, and it is by this impartation of Himself and by nothing
else that He bestows upon us the supply of our needs.
Unless we have been initiated into this deepest and yet simplest secret
of life, it will be full of gnawing pain and unfulfilled longings.
Unless we have learned that our needs are like the cracks in the parched
ground, cups to hold the rain from heaven, doors by which God Himself
can come to us, we shall dwell for ever in a dry and thirsty land. God
Himself is the only satisfier of the soul. 'Whom have I in heaven but
Thee, and there is none upon earth that'--if I am not a fool--'I desire
side by side with Thee?'
But Paul here sets forth in very bold words the measure or limits of the
divine supply of our need. It is 'according to His riches in glory.'
Then, all of God belongs to me, and the whole wealth of His aggregated
perfections is available for stopping the crannies of my heart and
filling its emptiness. My emptiness corresponds with His fulness as some
concavity does with the convexity that fits into it, and the whole that
He is waits to fill and to satisfy me. There is no limit really to what
a man may have of God except the limitless limit of the infinite divine
nature, but on the other hand this great promise is not fulfilled all at
once, and whilst the actual limit is the boundlessness of God, there is
a working limit, so to speak, a variable one, but a very real one. The
whole riches of God's glory are available for us, but only so much of
the boundless store as we desire and are at present capable of taking
in will belong to us now. What is the use of owning half a continent if
the owner lives on an acre of it and grows what he wants there, and has
never seen the broad lands that yet belong to him? Nothing hinders a man
from indefinitely increased possession of a growing measure of God,
except his own arbitrarily narrowed measure of desire and capacity.
Therefore it becomes a solemn question for each of us, Am I day by day
becoming more and more fit to possess more of God, and enjoy more of the
God whom I possess? In Him we have each 'a potentiality of wealth beyond
the dreams of avarice.' Do we growingly realise that boundless
possibility?
The channel by which that boundless supply is to reach us is distinctly
set forth here. All these riches are stored up 'in Christ Jesus.' A deep
lake may be hidden away in the bosom of the hills that would pour
blessing and fertility over a barren land if it could find a channel
down into the plains, but unless there be a river flowing out of it, its
land-locked waters might as well be dried up. When Paul says 'riches in
glory,' he puts them up high above our reach, but when he adds 'in
Christ Jesus,' he brings them all down amongst us. In Him is 'infinite
riches in a narrow room.' If we are in Him then we are beside our
treasure, and have only to put out our hands and take the wealth that is
lying there. All that we need is 'in Christ,' and if we are in Christ it
is all close at our sides.
Then the question comes to be, 'Am I thus near my wealth, and can I get
at it whenever I want it, as I want it, and as much as I want of it?' We
can if we will. The path is easy to define, though our slothfulness
find it hard to tread. That man is in Christ who dwells with Him by
faith, whose heart is by love plunged in His love, who daily seeks to
hold communion with Him amid the distractions of life, and who in
practical submission obeys His will. If thus we trust, if thus we love,
if thus we hold fast to Him, and if thus we link Him with all our
activities in the world, need will cease to grow, and will only be an
occasion for God's gift. 'Delight thyself in the Lord,' and then the
heart's desires being set upon Him, 'He will give thee the desire of thy
heart.'
Paul says to us 'My God shall supply all your need.' Let us answer, 'The
Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.'