“THE JOY OF KNOWING WHAT’S IMPORTANT”Running On Empty: When You’ve Run Out Of Joy

July 12, 2015Cornerstone Community Church

If statistics were kept on these sorts of things, I suspect that 90% of all the arguments and tears and hurt feelings that our kids experience are a result of things that aren’t the least bit important. For example, do or did your kids keep track of how many times each of them got to sit in the front seat of the car? When our kids were younger, I would – in an effort to keep the peace – play along and try to make sure everyone got a turn in the front seat during each particular day. But that wasn’t always good enough. The kids also kept track of how long on that day each person got to sit in the front seat. They would also keep track of how many times in the last week each person had a turn in the front seat. And what really complicated matters is when Brenda insisted that she get a turn sitting in the front seat. Inevitably I would tire of the arguing and bickering and say something like this: “That’s it – nobody sits in the front seat. All of you will sit in the back.” So if you ever saw me driving along with nobody sitting next to me and Stephanie, Ryan, Kelsey and Brenda all squished into the back seat, you know why.

In fact I am of the conviction that one of my main jobs as a parent was and is the task of teaching them what is important and what isn’t. Here’s another example from when our kids were younger. We would be driving along when one of the kids would say, “Look, I see a rainbow!” Another child would then say, “I see it too!” To which the first would reply, “Yeah, but I saw it first!” To which the second and the third would reply, “No, I saw it first, but I just didn’t say anything.” Before long there would be an all-out war in the back of the van over who saw the rainbow first, including mean words and tears, which was always followed by this lecture: “Guys, it doesn’t matter who saw the rainbow first. What’s important is that we saw the rainbow. It doesn’t matter whether Ryan saw it a second before Kelsey, what matters is that we saw this beautiful rainbow God put in the sky to remind us of his love for us ... And besides, I saw it first.”

But it isn’t just kids who make a habit of draining the joy out of life by fretting over things that in the big scheme of things aren’t important. I imagine that 90% of the arguments we have had in our marriage have involved things that just don’t matter. Our biggest ongoing argument is over the arrangement of the furniture in the family room, a debate that continues to this day. Why do we argue about it? Because I have this silly notion that it really matters where my favorite seat is in relationship to the TV. To me, arranging our furniture so we can see the TV is critically important. But can’t you just imagine God watching this and wanting to yell over the balcony of heaven, “Guys, what does it matter? This just isn’t important. Get a grip on yourselves, people! Why are you ruining your evening together by arguing about things that just don’t matter?”

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Two weeks ago we learned that one of the cures for running on empty is to discover the joy of belonging. We saw that Paul, who wrote the book of Philippians we are studying in this series, was able to celebrate life even while he languished in prison in part because he had discovered the joy of belonging, of belonging to a community of people who were partners with him in God’s grace and in the gospel. In this next section of Philippians, in Chapter 1:12-30, we will see a second source of Paul’s joy, the joy of knowing what’s important.

Author Max Lucado tells the story of two burglars who broke into a department store in a large city. But instead of stealing anything, they decided to have some fun. They took the price tags off of expensive items and stuck it on inexpensive ones. A box of stationery now cost $395, while a stereo cost $2.95. But the most interesting part of the story is what happened the next day. The store opened. Customers shopped. They picked out what they wanted, they went to the cash register, and they made their purchases. For four entire hours, no one noticed that the price tags had been switched. Not the employees. Not the customers. Not the manager. Not the cashiers.

When they finally discovered what happened, the manager shut down the store and went to work figuring out what really cost what. He had to get out the master list and figure out all over again what everything cost, which items were the most expensive and which were the least.

In these verses in Philippians Paul does that same job for us. In a world that has gotten the price tags all mixed up, Paul helps us identify what is really important from what is not as important. And in doing so, Paul helps those of us who are running on empty to recapture some of the joy of living, the joy Jesus promised we would have if we committed our lives to following him.

What’s Important – The Message of Jesus Is Shared

Let’s jump right into Paul’s letter and see what he has to say:

Now I want you to know, brothers, that what has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel. As a result, it has become clear throughout the whole palace guard and to everyone else that I am in chains for Christ. Because of my chains, most of the brothers in the Lord have been encouraged to speak the word of God more courageously and fearlessly.

It is true that some preach Christ out of envy and rivalry, but others out of goodwill. The latter do so in love, knowing that I am put here for the defense of the gospel. The former preach Christ out of selfish ambition, not sincerely, supposing that they can stir up trouble for me while I am in chains. But what does it matter? The important thing is that in every way, whether from false motives or true, Christ is preached. And because of this I rejoice.

Philippians 1:13-18

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Paul wasn’t a father; he never had any kids to lecture. But he sure sounds like he’d given the lecture before, doesn’t he? Did you catch what he says at the end? “But what does it matter? So what? That’s not important. Here, let me tell you what’s really important.”

Let’s back up and learn what this discussion is all about. Paul, you will recall, is in prison. This is his third stint in prison in the last few years, and each time the charge against him has been totally unfair. All he had been doing was telling people about Jesus’ death and resurrection, and for that he got thrown into prison allegedly for inciting a riot. Paul doesn’t yet know it, but this will be his last trip to the brig, because at the end of this prison sentence he will be executed. To add insult to injury, some of Paul’s so-called “brothers” in the faith, who apparently are jealous of Paul's notoriety, have decided to rub salt in Paul’s wounds by taking over his preaching. The image we get is that these pseudo-brothers were on the outside of the prison preaching the gospel, while at the same time looking over at Paul behind bars and saying, “Nyah, nyah, na nyah na – we can preach and you can’t. We’re doing the same thing you did, but you got arrested for it and we didn’t. Ha, ha!”

In verse 17 Paul tells us that these individuals are trying to “stir up trouble for me while I am in chains.” The word Paul uses in the Greek is the word “thlipsis,” which means “friction.” It was a word commonly used to describe the rubbing of iron chains on a prisoner’s wrists and ankles. Paul is saying that these people aren’t content with the fact that he sits in prison in chains; they are taking the chains and twisting them back and forth to rub away the skin on his body. Did you ever have an older brother try to rub your skin off? When I was a kid we used the politically incorrect term “Indian burn” for such an event. My brother Dave, who was a wrestler, was especially good at taking my scrawny wrists and twisting the skin until I was sure it was going to rub right off. That is the image Paul is painting for us when he says these people were trying to “stir up trouble” and create friction and pain for him.

The natural response of the church at Philippi towards this news was quite naturally sympathy and outrage. They felt sympathetic towards Paul, who was unfairly suffering in prison again for doing something good. And they felt outrage towards these pseudo-brothers whose goal was to add to Paul's misery.

But what is Paul’s response? If it was me, I would be running on empty. There would be no cause for joy, no reason to celebrate. I would be angry, I would be bitter, I would be jealous, I would be stressed, I would be completely empty of joy. But not Paul. Paul's response to his circumstances is this: “But what does it matter? The important thing is that in every way, whether from false motives or true, Christ is preached. And because of this, I rejoice.” (Philippians 1:18)

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Paul knew what was important. Paul had the big picture. He was able to step back from his circumstances and view them from the perspective of heaven. In his mind, Paul took a trip to heaven. He joined God on the balcony overlooking life. He saw his life from God’s perspective. And here’s what he saw – the gospel, the message of Jesus, was being communicated to lost people. People who faced an eternity in hell, people whose lives had been ruined by bad choices, people who had given up hope, these people that Jesus loved enough to die for were hearing for the first time in their lives the message about Jesus. For the first time in their lives they were hearing that God came to earth as a man so we could know God personally. For the first time they were hearing that in the person of Jesus God walked on this earth, that he lived a life of integrity and honor and dignity and compassion, that he healed the sick, gave sight to the blind, raised the dead, and calmed the storm with a single word. For the first time they were hearing that Jesus was crucified to pay the penalty for their sin, that because of Jesus’ death they could be free from the guilt that had shackled their souls and diminished their spirits. For the first time they were hearing that this Jesus rose back to life just three days after being buried in a sealed tomb guarded by Roman soldiers. For the first time they were hearing that through Jesus they could know God, that through Jesus they could have eternal life, that through Jesus they could have hope, that through Jesus they could experience real joy. And as Paul viewed his circumstances from the balcony of heaven, Paul looked at his chains, he looked at his unfair sentence, he looked at his impending execution, he looked at the jeers of the pseudo-brothers, and he said, “So what does it matter? It just isn’t important. Here’s what’s important – lost people are hearing the message of Jesus for the first time. That’s important. And for that reason I have joy. That is reason to celebrate.” Paul understood the joy of knowing what’s important. And to Paul, the fact that people were hearing the message of Jesus because he was in prison – well, that was what was important.

On June 14th, just a month ago, we lost one of the greatest Christians of the last 100 years. Her name was Elisabeth Elliot. When she was still in her twenties, Elisabeth Elliot and her husband Jim moved from Illinois to Ecuador in an effort to take the message of the gospel to a people group who had never heard the name of Jesus before. It turned out that these people – the Auca Indians – were a particularly violent people. But that didn’t deter the Elliots or four other missionary couples from setting out to establish contact with the Aucas so they could learn their language and tell them about Jesus. And you may recall what happened. Elisabeth wrote about the story in one of the most important Christian books of the 20th century – “Through Gates Of Splendor.” In January of 1956 Jim Elliot and four others camped out nearby an Auca camp, hoping to establish a relationship with the tribe. They never made it home. All five were speared and hacked to death.

Elisabeth was 30 at the time and had a ten-month old daughter. And do you remember what she did? She stayed. First she stayed to learn the Auca language. Then in 1958 she took her three-year-old daughter and went to live with the Aucas. Why? In

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the words of Paul: “But what does it matter? The important thing is that in every way, whether from false motives or true, Christ is preached. And because of this, I rejoice.” (Philippians 1:18) What mattered to Elisabeth was that the gospel be preached to the Aucas. And if you remember the story, you will recall that by and large the whole tribe in time came to put their faith in Jesus. Before he died Jim Elliot wrote this in his journal: “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.” Elisabeth Elliot understood very clearly what mattered and what didn’t.

So What Does Matter?

If you were to make a list of what really matters in your life, what would be on your list? What are the essentials in your life that fulfill you and satisfy you and bring you joy even if everything else in your life is going wrong?

In the remainder of Philippians 1 Paul identifies four more items on his list of essentials, on his catalogue of what really matters. He identifies two of them in one short verse. Here’s what he says in verse 21: “For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.” In Paul’s pantheon of values, there was one overriding essential – his relationship with Jesus. For Paul, life was all about knowing and loving and enjoying and following Jesus. As long as Paul stayed connected to Jesus, his life was full even when from all appearances he should have been running on empty.

I shave every morning with a rechargeable electric shaver. Every once in awhile I will be running a little late, so to save time I will take my shaver with me and shave in the office. As long as the battery has been recharged recently, that works fine. But if I do that too often without recharging the shaver, before very long at all my shaver just stops. It’s running on empty. But as long as I keep my shaver plugged in, as long as it stays engaged with its source of power, it will keep going and going and going.

All Paul needed to keep on going and going and going was to stay connected to Jesus. Having a relationship with Jesus kept him fresh and alive and full of joy even when it would seem that he should be running on empty. So how do we do that? How do we stay connected to Jesus, how do we stay charged up and fresh and full? Part of the process is to be involved in church, to come to a place like Cornerstone or some other church on Sunday and learn what the Bible has to say about the person and message of Jesus. But the truth is that if all you do is come to church one hour a week or two hours a month, your batteries are going to go dead quickly. The only way to stay fresh and alive and full of joy is to reconnect with Jesus every day, to take some time every day to plug into Jesus by reading the Bible and by praying. So if you feel a little bit like you are running on empty in your relationship with Jesus, if following Jesus seems more like a chore than an adventure, check your connections. What are you doing day by day to stay plugged in?

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Look again at what Paul said in Philippians 1:21: “For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.” I said that Paul identifies two of his primary values in this one verse. The first is his relationship with Jesus. But notice what he says about death – “to die is gain.” Now you can’t say that if you don’t know what is going to happen when you die. If you are of the attitude that death is a bridge you will cross when you get to it, then you can’t say it is gain to die. But in Paul’s value system, death was gain because he knew that after he died he would be in heaven. In Paul’s view, the fact that he had been unjustly tossed in prison didn’t matter. The fact that his legs and arms were in chains didn’t matter. The fact that some pseudo-brothers were doing their best to make his life miserable didn’t matter. The fact that he was surely going to be executed for following Jesus didn’t matter. Death didn’t matter. But heaven mattered.

When you think of it, Paul had a great way to figure out what really mattered, because what he did was to evaluate his life from the perspective of the afterlife. Have you ever been asked the question, “What do you want on your tombstone?” My favorite answer to that is the guy who wrote, “I told you I was sick.” Well Paul takes it one step further than the tombstone. In essence he asks himself, “Suppose, Paul, that you were dead and you were looking back on your life from the other side of eternity, what then would really matter to you?” And Paul very wisely thought, “It matters that when I die I go to heaven and not to hell!” Paul understood that heaven matters. It matters for two reasons. The first is the alternative. According to the Bible, the alternative to heaven is hell. And no matter what image comes to your mind when you think of hell, whether it’s a kitchen full of chocolate chip cookies and no milk or a playground covered thick with black birds, the Bible is quite clear that hell is a horrible place to spend the rest of your eternity. But heaven also matters not just because it’s not hell but also because its heaven. In heaven Paul will never again wear chains. He will never again watch the sunset from behind bars. He will never again have to eat bread and water. He will never be cold, he will never be sick, he will never be separated from the people he loves, and he will never run on empty. In heaven, Paul’s joy will always be full. Heaven matters.

But there is still more on Paul’s list of what matters. In verses 23-26 Paul says:

I am torn between the two: I desire to depart (die) and be with Christ, which is better by far; but it is necessary for you that I remain in the body. Convinced of this, I know that I will remain, and I will continue with all of you for your progress and joy in the faith, so that through my being with you again your joy in Christ Jesus will overflow on account of me.

You can’t help but empathize with Paul. After three trips to a crummy first century prison, you can’t blame Paul for wanting to take the next shuttle to heaven, to exit stage left. But Paul decides, “Nope, I’m not ready to leave yet. I am staying put. I am going to stay right here and do everything I can to bring joy to your lives because you matter.” Paul knew what was important. The gospel mattered to Paul. It mattered to

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him that people have the opportunity to hear the good news about Jesus. Second, his relationship with Jesus mattered to Paul. That was what his life was all about, knowing and loving and following Jesus. Third, heaven mattered to Paul. And so he made sure he had his reservations, he made sure he knew that heaven was his destiny. And fourth, people mattered to Paul.

If you take the time to read the four short chapters in this book, you can’t help but see Paul’s love for people. And not just humankind in general, but individual people. Do you remember the old Charlie Brown cartoon where Linus says, “I love humanity; it’s people I can’t stand.” I know what Linus means. Sometimes I can feel a great compassion in my heart for people in general, but as I go through my prayer list I inevitably come across some individuals I don’t much feel like praying for. But Paul has a heart for people, for people with names. In chapter 2 Paul says his friend Timothy is like a son to him. In the same chapter he tells the Philippians to treat Epaphroditus as a hero, because he has been a brave soldier in the fight of faith. In chapter 3 he pleads with Euodia and Syntyche to get along with each other, and to put their differences behind them. He praises Clement for standing by him as a partner in the faith. Paul cared about these people and prayed for these people because in Paul’s hierarchy of values, people mattered. And because Paul knew what was important, because he understood clearly what is important and what isn’t important, Paul’s reservoir of joy never dried up.

Mickey Mantle had it all. He was one of the greatest and most loved baseball players of all time. He hit 536 home runs. He hit 18 home runs in World Series play, more than any other player in history. He was fast, he was strong, he was handsome, he was rich. He had a wife and four sons. He made hundreds of thousands of dollars just signing his name on baseball cards. But Mickey Mantle spent his entire life running on empty. From the time he was a teenager, Mickey played hard and drank harder. His father died at the age of 39 from Hodgkin’s Disease, and Mickey was convinced he would die young, too. Since Mickey had no hope of heaven and no idea what was on the other side of the grave, he decided to live life to the hilt, which to him meant drinking and partying and chasing women and living fast and free. Throughout his career he was a great player, but he was not a great human being. He cheated on his wife, he wasn’t even around when his kids were born, he was rude and temperamental and vulgar.

When Mickey Mantle died in 1995, his friends talked about his life and they shared some of the things Mickey had told them. And it broke my heart to read Mickey’s explanation for his life. Mickey Mantle, a true superstar, adored around the world, said he drank for two reasons. One, he never felt like he had lived up to his expectations or the expectations people had for him. This guy took the Yankees to 12 World Series, a three-time MVP, a Triple Crown winner, hits 536 home runs, and he felt like he disappointed people. But even more chilling to me was this comment. One of Mickey’s closest friends said, “Mickey just never felt like he mattered.”

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There is joy in knowing what matters. And more than anything else, God wants you to know this – you matter. You matter to God. God does not care how many home runs you hit or how fast you run or how much money you make. You matter to God just the way you are. If you want to experience a joy that never runs out, you need to know what matters. Money doesn’t matter. Fame doesn’t matter. Success doesn’t matter. But you do.

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