While we are away overseas, I am not putting up new posts. Instead I am re-posting six from the last six years I have had this blog. Each one I’ve chosen because of peculiar interest it stirred up at the time. 
The year 2021 was eventful - locked down in Sydney for six months; but even more challengimng: suffering a heart attack earlier in the year. What did I learn? 
Again, if you want to follow our travels, you can do so here.

It is Wednesday.
I write this lying in a hospital bed, poked and prodded in between a string of procedures.

Monday began like any other day.
Eileen and I try and keep Mondays free to do something together.
Once it would’ve been a matter of: “What do you want to do?” “I don’t mind, what do you want to do?” “I don’t mind either, what…?” etc – which sometimes didn’t leave a lot of time to do anything. So now, we take turns in deciding.
Last Monday was my turn.

It was a cooler day: “Let’s ride to Deception Bay.”
It’s a lovely ride, along a bike path, not too hilly – with a favourite coffee shop at the end.
And Eileen now has an E-bike. All she needs now (she tells me, gloating) is a rear view mirror so she can see how far behind I am!

The ride there was pleasant and uneventful; we both enjoyed riding together and just spending time together.
And there was coffee at the end.

About a third of the way back my chest and upper arms became tight and painful. We rested awhile till it passed; then proceeded.
But then it started to come back; we rested again.
When it returned a third time, I gave up.
Thankfully Eileen was with me and was able to ride on and get the car and bring me home.
“Two are better than one, for if they fall, one will lift up his companion. But woe to him who is alone when he falls, for he has no one to help him up.” Eccl 4:9-10

It was a heart attack. Took me completely by surprise.
Back home we called the ambulance which took me to Prince Charles Hospital.
The rest is history.

The paramedics, as well as the staff here, doctors and nurses, have all been wonderful: very professional, caring and kind.
The one exception was a doctor who, even before I was diagnosed, very matter-of-factly asked, “If you have a massive heart attack here, do you want to be revived?”
I hesitated.
He jumped in quickly and listed all possible worst outcomes if I was revived; it was fairly evident the “right” answer he was looking for was, “No, I don’t want to be revived”.
I said I would talk it over with my wife.
He said, “Do that, but get back to me soon.”

I do not believe in artificially keeping a body breathing when in all other ways the body is dead.
But neither do I believe it is right to practise euthanasia when it is possible and reasonable to revive the person as a person, however much he may then be incapacitated.

This sudden, stark confrontation with my own mortality challenged my faith.
Do I really believe the message I preach to others?
This coming Lord’s day I was to preach on the following text (though this is extremely unlikely now) :

“I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content: I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound. Everywhere and in all things I have learned both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need.” Phil 4:11-12

Do I really know how to be abased?
Can I honestly say I am willing to accept whatever the Lord has in store for me?
Is this how the Lord makes preachers face up to whether they are practising what they preach?

The best outcome I could now hope for would be that they would insert a stent and I would get on my bike and go home… well, go home at least, even if bike adventures would have to wait.
Other scenarios were somewhat less pleasant. E.g.

• Open heart surgery and months to recover. Many of my friends have accepted and endured that. But, would I?
• Crippled and in a wheelchair for life? But what a burden I would then be to others. And how would I cope without any of the great outdoor stuff I do?
• Or death itself? Sometimes, true, in pain, I would rather die than live. And I really do look forward to that day when: “God will wipe away every tear from our eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying; and there shall be no more pain” (Rev 21:4); and best of all, when we shall see the face of God (Rev 22:5).
  But, to leave Eileen alone? “I am hard-pressed between the two, having a desire to depart and be with Christ, which is far better. Nevertheless to remain in the flesh is more needful for you.” (Phil 1:23-24)

What was God teaching me?

In Phil ch 4 Paul talks about what he had “learned” and what, as a result, he now “knew”.
(I’ll unpack this more fully in a future post, D.V.)
But briefly:

Contentment is “learned”

None of us is born content; we all come into this world restless in our spirits.

1) “I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content.” Phil 4:11

The word used here is the Greek word for learning as a “disciple”. A “disciple” is (lit.) a “learner”. He sits at the feet of the master with his “L” plates on: he is learning!
Back in v 9 Paul used the same word: “The things which you learned from me, these do.” The disciple is one who is “learning” so that he can “do”. In v 9 Paul is the master.
But in v 11, Paul is the learner. He sees himself as a “disciple” in the grand “discipline” of learning contentment.

2) “I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound.” Phil 4:12

This is not innate knowledge. It is knowledge Paul had to learn.
Literally he says, “I see how to be abased, and I see how to abound”. His “knowing” was as a result of consciously “seeing” these things.
His practice of contentment was based on a thoughtful understanding of what he had “seen”.

Then he goes on:

3) “I have learned both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need.” Phil 4:12

This is a different word to “learn”. This is “learning” that comes through initiation into the secret knowledge of a religion.
True contentment is locked up in the Christian religion. This is not something that comes naturally. It can only begin to be unlocked as you come to faith.

Contentment must be learned – painfully, one step at a time.

What have I learned this week?

1) I have learned again to be thankful for the many little things.

Paul was thankful for the gift those in Philippi had sent him: “I rejoiced in the Lord greatly that now at last your care for me has flourished again; though you surely did care, but you lacked opportunity.” Phil 4:10
This was a thoughtful gift. Paul rejoices in “your care for me”; literally, “your mind for me”. They sent this gift because they had Paul in mind. It really was a thought-full gift on their part and Paul found great joy in that.

Yet, for all that v 17 indicates it probably wasn’t a large gift. And, though the gift had come now, it hadn’t come earlier.
But size didn’t matter to Paul. And though it had come “late” Paul refused to read anything into its lateness; he wasn’t irritated by the delay in sending the gift, but only thought all the more highly of those who had sent it.

I have learned to rejoice in the many little things; in particular, the many messages that so many of you have sent me.
The Lord has wonderfully encouraged me by all such little expressions of thoughtfulness; these far outweigh any inconvenience of a stay here.

2) But how could Paul not be weighed down by his present circumstances?
•  deprived of his freedom,
•  falsely accused,
•  in prison now for something like four years or more,
•  itching to be released, to go and preach the Gospel as far as Spain.

The answer was that Paul had learned to view his circumstances, not in terms of what he could see, but in terms of what they were all about, what is most important in life.
Thereby he learned to rise above his circumstances to be content.

When “abased” he could rejoice, because he practised that “mind which was also in Christ Jesus.” Phil 2:5
When Christ “abased Himself to the point of death, even the death of the cross” (2:8), His “mind” rejoiced because He looked beyond His immediate circumstances. Rather, “He saw His seed, He saw the labour of His soul – and was satisfied.” Isa 53:10-11
Christ did not focus on His immediate circumstances, when He was being tortured on the cross. Rather He focused on the bigger picture of what it was all about.

Paul practised the same “mind”. He didn’t define his circumstances in terms of deprivation, imprisonment and loss of liberty etc; but in terms of the bigger picture – and he was content.
He had in view, not just his joy in the gift he had received, but the “fruit” that would come to those in Philippi as a result:

“I seek the fruit that abounds to your account. Indeed I have all and abound. I am full, having received from Epaphroditus the things sent from you, a sweet-smelling aroma, an acceptable sacrifice, well pleasing to God.” Phil 4:17-18

My “circumstances” are not in what I see in front of my eyes. They are certainly not in what the world sees them to be.
They are in what I see them to be, with the eye of faith.

One way that I find helpful to see the bigger picture is to take the “Tho-Yet” advice given by Matthew Henry, one time when he was set upon by thieves.
He said:

• “Though I was robbed, yet I am thankful, because I was never robbed before.”
• “Though they took my money, yet I am thankful, because they didn’t take my life.”
• “Though they took everything I had, yet I am thankful, because I didn’t have all that much anyway.”
• “Though there were those who robbed me, yet I am thankful, because I would rather be robbed than be a robber myself.”

My real circumstances are not what the world sees them to be, but what I see them to be by the eye of faith.

• Though I had a heart attack, yet I was not alone at the time; especially “not alone” meant I was with my best friend and companion.
• Though the pain did not go away, yet the ambulance came quickly.
• Though I had to go to hospital, yet that was where I received the best care.
• Though it meant treatment, yet it was only a single stent in the end; it could have been far worse.
• Though all this drama took place, yet I am thankful the problem was not left undiscovered, to come to light when help was not readily to hand (eg. travelling overseas, cycling on my own etc)

Am I ready to preach on contentment? Have I learnt all that there is to be learnt?
No, I am still learning, and will be till I die.
But I am learning; and I thank God for that. I thank God for the few small steps He has taken me on this week.

“Not that I have already attained, or am already perfected; but I press on, that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me.” Phil 3:12

In the meantime, this I “know”:
I know that being abased, as well as abounding, is all working together according to the good purpose of God.
I know that all this is for the great good of those who love God.
I know that it is so that I too may be conformed to the image of His Son who was abased that He might be glorified.
– Rom 8:28-29