“Godliness with contentment is great gain” (1 Timothy 6:6)
Disregard the title of this article. I am not a happy camper. I don’t think I’ve ever been. But I’m content. I may not have been all that content as a younger man, but in my more mature years I have come to realize that contentment is far superior to happiness. May I tell you why?
First, we need to understand how glorious the concept of contentment really is. Notice this simple definition: The state of being satisfied with what one has. Wow! Now that is a notion right out of the pages of the Bible. Our joy for living is not based on the abundance of what we have accumulated. That’s a difficult viewpoint to accept in a culture as affluent as ours has been in the United States of America.
Happiness! To me happiness is a state of bliss or joyfulness that comes by eliminating sorrow and pain from our lives. We often hear parents saying of their children, “I just want them to be happy.” Is this really a good thing to ask for? Seems a better wish for kids is: “I want them to find their purpose in life and glorify God in the process.”
Frankly, on most days, I’m not happy. When I’m asked occasionally if I am happy, I usually respond by saying, “I’ve obtained something far better than happiness—I’m content.” Happiness is a new puppy, a new car, a bigger house, that swimming pool you always dreamed of, or maybe for some of us, a new mate. Happiness is way too dependent on external factors out of our control. “If I can just get that raise or promotion then I’ll really be happy.” No you won’t. “If I can just get that part in the school play then my worries will be over.” No they won’t. It’s the devil’s lie. And we’ve been embracing that lie from the very beginning.
Our Want List! Think with me for a moment about what you really want. I’m not talking about your need list. Most of what we presume are needs have been manufactured in the last 100 years. It’s amazing how our forebears got by on a lot less. I remember the woman who wanted to divorce her husband because he hadn’t bought her the trash compacter all the other gals in the neighborhood had. Our want list far surpasses our need list, doesn’t it?
I have an ongoing debate with one of my precious elders. He out humbles me by a mile. His need list is half the size of mine. It’s short. My list is huge. Jere’s need list is, well, tiny. Food and clothing. That’s it. I, being raised in the big city of Indianapolis as a first generation non-farm lad, have developed a strong taste for the finer things of life. My list: Food, shelter, clothing, friends. I can never win with Jere. But guess what? God, since I am content with what I have and have learned finally in life that less is more, just keeps showering me with not only what I need, but with a lot of what I want. I have food aplenty, shelter with two baths and hot and cold running water, enough clothes to start a haberdasher’s shop, and more friends and family than I can count.
Contentment! The apostle Paul learned that his zest for life wasn’t dependent on circumstances. His circumstances certainly weren’t all that comfortable on many occasions. Yet he wrote, “I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances” (Philippians 4:11). Are we? Can we be? Are food and clothing enough? After those needs are met, do you relish in the over-flowing blessings from God? Things bring us peace and comfort. It is much easier writing this little essay in the air-conditioned comfort of my study than in some dank cell where an apostle wrote some of his letters to the church. Instead of grubbing for wild berries, I admit to enjoying pepperoni pizza with mushrooms. I am abundantly blessed. My list grows longer. My “want” list.
This will embarrass me, so forgive the transparency. I have three cars at my disposal. I have three TV sets and a fridge filled with food and overhead fans in every bedroom and a puppy who thinks I am king of the realm, and cats that feed at my trough, and ties to outfit every preacher in the state, and way too much furniture for a house the size of mine. I have toothpaste, soap, and linens to soothe my savage beast. Oh, I am marvelously blessed. I have tiled floors that I just had to have yet on top of them I have carpets. Hey, I had carpeting before I had the floors tiled.
Where am I going with this? Most of us have far more than anyone would need to be happy. And yet so many of us are sad and depressed and on drugs. Why? Could be that we haven’t learned the formula for a tranquil life? It isn’t rocket science. Why do we always seem to be dissatisfied with what we have? Do we really need more? “If we have food and clothing, we will be content with that” (1 Timothy 6L8). Aha! Jere has it over me. I’ve found the source of his short list.
Things! Look around us. We are besieged by things. Stuff. More stuff. We go to yard sales to obtain more stuff. We have our own sales to get rid of the abundance of stuff. I get a magazine that has every kind of container in which to put my stuff. They have everything imaginable that can hold all my things. My sticks. Can I take one stick to heaven? One?
Listen closely now. We don’t need all that stuff. Some of it is getting in the way of our contentment. Our lives won’t be fulfilled if we finally get all the early American furniture we want so everything in the house will be coordinated. I counseled a couple once that was “on the verge” over whether to get French Provincial or Mediterranean for the living room. We are to use things and love people. Some of us love things and use people. No wonder we’ve become a nation of affluent, dissatisfied neurotics.
What Do You Have?
Look around. Notice what you have. It could all be gone tomorrow. A friend’s house burnt to the ground while he was on vacation. It was only six months old. He and his wife had finally built their dream home. All their pictures and keepsakes were gone. Jere, my elder friend with his short list, had a 1937 roadster one week from finally being restored. It was a hobby for him. He had planned this restoration for years. The body shop it was in burned to the ground destroying his dream. Guess what my dear elder with the short list said, “The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.”
We don’t need more. We need less. Less junk. Less stuff. Less focus on what is temporary and fleeting. Hey, that even sounds biblical. “Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have…” (Hebrews 13:5). Do we genuinely believe God in this? If so, why don’t we show it by divesting ourselves of anything that gets between us and him?
Jimmy! Truth is always more precious than fiction. Jimmy was a good kid. His father was a preacher. Jimmy was a scrapper and a hard worker. He had his first job at the age of ten—a paper route. He would faithfully deliver his papers whether it was raining or snowing or sun-shining. He was a good paper-boy. Many of his customers tipped him at collection time. Jimmy saved his money. Spent it frugally. By the time he was sixteen he had saved enough to buy a car. He had already selected one that met his specifications.
The Sunday before the Monday he was to purchase his first automobile, a medical missionary came to Jimmy’s church and made an appeal for money for the clinic that was so badly needed. The missionary said that he had gained all the support he needed to finish the clinic except for $6,000. Jimmy’s bank account had exactly $6,300 in it. As Paul Harvey used to say, “And now for the rest of the story.” Well, you already know what I’m about to tell you. Jimmy gave the visiting doctor a check for $6,000. I’ve never known a more contented person than that young man. He is a deacon in the church today. And, oh yeah, his list is a lot shorter than mine. He and Jere have something in common.