Philippians 4:10-23 | Where Your Treasure Is

As we move into our time of prayer and pause, I've got an update to share with our church family. It's good news—though it's also a little bittersweet. Not bad, just bittersweet, and I'll explain why in a second. Essentially, two things have come together this week, and our leadership here at Crossroads really sees God's hand in how the timing worked out.

First, the bittersweet part. Emily—who's singing with us today—has served this past year as our interim director for junior high youth ministry, and she has poured herself into those students. As many of you know, she and Alan are expecting their second child, a baby boy. After a lot of prayer, she's decided it's time to step off the staff team and out of that leadership role so she can give herself fully to this new season at home. We're going to miss having her lead—she's been such a gift to our students—but we are so happy for her and Alan. And let me be clear: they're not going anywhere. They love Crossroads, and they'll still be right here, serving in all the ways they already do—just in a different capacity. So Emily, thank you. We're so grateful for you.

Emily's transition brought our leadership team to a natural pivot point, and this is the second part of the update.

For over a year now, our leadership has been praying about the "why" and the "how" of making disciples at Crossroads. We realized that we don't just want to offer isolated programs, classes, or lectures. We want to see a unified, cohesive path that helps people—from our children to our adults—truly walk with Jesus, master the basics of the faith, and live it out every day.

We realized that to do this well, we need dedicated focus. We have wonderful people currently working on this, but because everyone's time is divided, progress has naturally been a bit slow. To truly build this out, we need someone waking up every day thinking about the entire journey of spiritual formation for our families. We want one cohesive vision that ties our junior high, senior high, and adult discipleship together so that we are building resilient, lifelong followers of Jesus.

Because of that vision, our leadership has decided to create a new full-time role: Director of Family Discipleship. This role will give real, dedicated leadership to all of it—our adult discipleship classes, our senior high youth, and our junior high youth.

We’ve asked Brett Youngman to step into this position, and he said yes. We are incredibly excited. We love Brett, we trust his leadership, and we believe God is completely in this. He'll likely start this fall. There's more to figure out—we don't even have a specific start date nailed down yet—and we'll have more details to share in the coming weeks.

Lastly, let's talk about the practical side of all this. Adding a full-time role to our budget is a step of faith. Our team has looked carefully at the numbers, and we believe this is a wise, responsible, and necessary decision for the spiritual health of our church. But it's still a step of faith—and that's okay. That's often how God works, calling us forward and inviting us to trust Him together. So as we step into this, we simply invite you to keep doing what this church has always done so faithfully: giving as you're able and as the Lord leads you. No pressure, no arm-twisting—just an invitation to be part of what God is building here.

And as always, my door is open. If you've got questions or want to talk through the vision behind any of this, just reach out. But for now, would you join me in thanking God for Emily, and praying over this exciting new season at Crossroads?

Have you ever found treasure? Yes, actual treasure. Pirate booty. Gold. Rubies. Struck it rich?

Ah, now that's the dream. Isn't it?

Come on now. Don't tell me you've never played this game.

I'm not one for playing the lottery. I don't really gamble. But I'd be lying if I told you I've never thought about it. The old Mega Millions, the Powerball, whatever that thing is called. Wasn't there one of those a month or so back? Some stupid amount of money. Half a billion. Something.

You've done this. Who hasn't?

It's why gambling is so addictive. "You can't win if you don't play."

And man — what if you did win? Then you'd finally be content. Then you'd finally be able to breathe.

That's the allure. And that's the lie.

Meet Jack Whittaker.

It’s Christmas morning, 2002. Jack walks into a convenience store and buys a Powerball ticket on a whim. And he hits. Three hundred and fifteen million dollars.

The cameras and reporters come. Jack tells the world he's going to do good with this money. Bless his church. Bless his family.

Now fast-forward.

Within a few years, Jack's daughter is dead of an overdose. His granddaughter — his pride and joy — also dead of an overdose. He's been robbed multiple times. His marriage falls apart.

Years later, sitting in front of a reporter, Jack says this: he wishes he had torn that ticket up.

Jack is not alone. Nearly one-third of lottery winners eventually declare bankruptcy. And once the high wears off, winners report being no happier than they were before the ticket.

Why?

The late Tim Keller used to talk about this all the time. He loved to quote the writer David Foster Wallace — not a religious guy, but a guy who nailed the human heart. Wallace said this: "Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship."

And Keller pointed out the terrifying truth. When you take a good thing and turn it into an ultimate thing, it becomes a counterfeit god. And when you finally get the counterfeit god you've been worshipping — it eats you alive.

This is a temptation for all of us. We ask treasure to be our savior. But wealth, when its worshipped, just amplifies our emptiness.

So here's our question this morning. If the treasure can't deliver what it promises — what's the secret to a contented heart? Get rich? Nope

Paul, of all people, has an answer. He's writing from a Roman prison cell. And he's going to take us through three stops.

First, he's going to show us why contentment is so hard — why it's not a factory setting in the human heart.

Second —he’ll tells us the secret that allowed a chained man to be the freest, most joyful guy in the Roman Empire.

And third —we’ll see the proof. What it actually looks like when that secret takes root.

Three stops. Let's take the first one.

Movement 1: Contentment Is Not a Factory Setting

Open your BIbles to Philippians chapter 4.

We're stepping into Paul’s prison cell. Around 62 AD. The Apostle Paul is chained to a Roman imperial guard.

Paul has no 401(k). No retirement plan. He doesn't know if he's going to survive the month.

But he picks up a pen. He starts writing a thank-you note to a little church in the city of Philippi. They just sent him a financial gift.

Listen to the audacity of a man who has nothing — but possesses everything. Verses 10 through 12:

Philippians 4:10–12 NIV

10 I rejoiced greatly in the Lord that at last you renewed your concern for me. Indeed, you were concerned, but you had no opportunity to show it. 11 I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. 12 I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.

Notice what Paul says in verse 11.

"I have learned… to be content."

Contentment is not a factory setting. You are not born with it. You have to learn it.

We think contentment is tied to our circumstances. If we just tweak our situation — new job, new house, new spouse, new ZIP code — we'll finally feel okay. But Paul says contentment is a learned skill. It transcends your situation.

Look at the extremes in verse 12. Paul says, "I know how to be in need.” He knows the anxiety of scarcity.

When you are in need, the temptation is to despair. You look at your empty bank account. You stare at the medical bill. And you conclude that God has either forgotten you, or He simply isn't good.

But then Paul flips it. He says, "I know what it is to have plenty."

We read that and think, Sign me up. Where's the syllabus for "How to have plenty!”?

Here's the thing. Wealth is just as dangerous as poverty. Maybe more so.

When you are in need or brought low, you know you need God. But when you abound or have plenty, you suffer from the illusion of self-sufficiency. You look at your bank account and think, I don't need grace. I have a diversified portfolio.

If you don't have money, you're crushed by the anxiety of not having enough.

If you do have money, you're crushed by the fear of losing it.

Both poverty and wealth threaten to destroy our peace. Both tempt us to look for our ultimate security in the wrong place.

But Paul sits in a prison cell — completely immune to the rollercoaster.

He is untouchable.

Because he has discovered the big idea for us today:

Treasuring Jesus frees you from the anxiety of your circumstances and for the joy of generosity.

Movement 2: The Secret Revealed

Paul says in verse 12, "I have learned the secret."

He has a secret. There is a hidden reality that allows a chained man to be the freest, most joyful guy in the Roman Empire.

Here's something worth knowing. The Greek word Paul uses for "learned the secret" is memyēmai. That's not a normal word. It's the technical vocabulary of the ancient mystery religions — the cults of Paul's day. Think Scientology. Tom Cruise would pay lots of money to join this group Paul is quoting!

These cults promised hidden, esoteric knowledge to a few special initiates. Pay your money. Go through a secret ceremony. Get let in on the cosmic mystery.

Paul borrows their vocabulary on purpose. Not because he's a Mission Impossible fan. No — he's saying: You want to know the real secret? The hidden truth the mystery cults are charging admission for? Here it is. And it's not buried in a temple. It's not for the spiritual elite. It's a Person. And it's free.

Look at verse 13. One of the most famous — and most abused — verses in the entire Bible.

Philippians 4:13

Philippians 4:13 NIV

13 I can do all this through him who gives me strength.

You see this verse on football players' eye-black. You see it on gym posters. It gets treated like a spiritual protein shake. "I can bench press 300 pounds through Christ who strengthens me!" "I can crush this sales quarter through Christ who strengthens me!"

But what are the "all things" Paul is talking about? He just told you. Verse 12. Being brought low and abounding. Hunger and plenty. Need and abundance.

Paul is not lifting weights. He is chained to a Roman guard. He is facing execution.

He's saying: I can survive the starvation of a dungeon. And I can survive the spiritual danger of a massive lottery win. Because my soul has a supply line the world cannot cut.

That's an enormous claim. A supply line the world cannot cut.

And here's the thing — people have been chasing that kind of contentment forever. Long before Paul, the philosophers were already trying to crack the code. And they came up with two big answers. Both of them are wrong.

The secret to contentment is not killing your desires. That's Stoicism. For the 5th graders in here, Stoicism is the idea that if you pretend nothing matters, you'll never be disappointed. But killing our desires is impossible. It’s only pretending!

And the world's opposite solution doesn't work either. YOLO! Right? They say the secret to contentment is follow your heart and fulfill every desire. That's called Hedonism. And it doesn't work either.

The secret, Paul says, to a contented heart is attaching your highest desires to a Treasure that cannot be lost, stolen, or spent.

If your ultimate treasure is your bank account — what happens when the market crashes? You crash with it.

If your ultimate treasure is your career — what happens when you get laid off? You're destroyed. You lose your identity.

But if your ultimate treasure is Jesus Christ? You are bulletproof. You can be dead broke and your soul is entirely secure. When you realize that, it feels like hitting the spiritual jackpot.

The Gospel Pivot: Winning the Lottery Every Day

I was meeting recently with a young couple who have been found by Jesus. They are doing the hard, beautiful work of growing in their faith.

The guy was being incredibly honest about his struggle to really, deeply believe the Gospel.

He looked at me and said this:

"The hardest part is believing it's true. It just feels too good to be true. It feels like winning the lottery every single day."

And you know what, Church — he nailed it.

The Gospel does feel like winning the ultimate lottery. It is an inheritance you did not earn. Peace. Joy. Forgiveness. Eternal life.

But the reason it feels "too good to be true" is because in our world, if someone hands you a massive check for nothing — there is always a catch. Hidden fees. Fine print. We know how the world works. Nothing is free.

So what's the catch with the Gospel?

The catch is this: it was absolutely free for you. But it cost Him everything.

How do you know Jesus is a Treasure you can actually trust? You look at what He spent to get you.

Jesus Christ possessed the ultimate riches of heaven. He enjoyed the unbroken, infinitely wealthy fellowship of the Trinity. But He looked down at us — spiritually bankrupt, drowning in a debt of sin we could never repay — and He did not stay in heaven.

He steps into our poverty.

He lives the perfect, righteous life we have failed to live.

And then He walks to the cross.

At the cross, Jesus Christ experiences ultimate bankruptcy. He is stripped naked. He is mocked. He is drained of His very blood. And as He hangs there, the Father turns His face away.

Jesus cries out in the dark — experiencing the absolute poverty of being forsaken by God.

Why?

He is paying your debt. He is absorbing the penalty of your sin. He is going utterly, completely bankrupt — so that the riches of His grace can be transferred into your empty account.

Sit with that for a second.

The God of the universe gladly emptied Himself to buy you back.

When you see that, everything shifts. Jesus stops being a helpful life coach. He stops being a religious mascot. He becomes your Supreme Treasure.

And when Jesus becomes your true Treasure, money is immediately demoted. It loses its grip on your heart. The anxiety breaks.

And what rushes in to replace it?

Extravagant. Joyful. Generosity.

Movement 3: The Proof of the Treasure

When Jesus becomes your ultimate Treasure, the proof isn't just that you stop worrying. The proof is that you start giving.

The proof of a contented heart is illogical, extravagant generosity.

Look at the text. Paul says in verse 14, "Yet it was kind of you to share my trouble." And in verse 18, he mentions a man named Epaphroditus.

Epaphroditus delivered the money to Paul.

Think about what that required. Months off of work. Hundreds of miles on foot. Bandit-filled Roman roads. Carrying a massive amount of cash.

He risked his life. His health. His livelihood. To bring a gift to a guy on death row.

From a worldly standpoint, that's a terrible investment. Any financial advisor would look at Epaphroditus and say, "This makes zero sense. Keep that money for your own safety net."

But Epaphroditus wasn't doing worldly math. He was doing Kingdom math.

To him — and to the Philippian church — this wasn't just a financial transaction. Paul calls their gift "a fragrant offering, a sacrifice acceptable and pleasing to God."

They weren't just funding Paul's ministry. They were taking an opportunity to worship Jesus with their wealth. They had found the True Treasure. So they were free to hold their earthly treasure with open hands.

Epaphroditus shows us what treasuring Jesus looks like on the road. The Philippians show us what it looks like in the checkbook.

But years before Paul writes this letter, a woman shows us what it looks like at point-blank range. With her tears. With her hair. With everything she has.

Let's leave Paul's Roman prison cell for just a moment and step into a completely different room in Luke chapter 7. Picture this:

The air is thick with the smell of roasted meat. Olive oil burns in clay lamps. Around a low table, the religious elite of the town are reclining on cushions, eating, talking quietly. Calculating.

Simon the Pharisee is hosting. And tonight he has a special guest.

Jesus.

But Simon isn't worshipping Him. Simon is evaluating Him. Let's see if this guy is really a prophet.

And then — she walks in.

She doesn't have an invitation. She doesn't belong in this room. The text tells us she is "a woman of the city." She has a reputation.

In her hands, an alabaster flask of pure, expensive ointment.

An alabaster flask wasn't just perfume. It was a woman's financial security. Her dowry. Her retirement plan. For all intents and purposes — it was her lottery ticket. The one thing she possessed that guaranteed she would survive if everything else fell apart.

She walks up behind Jesus. He is reclining at the table.

And she begins to weep.

She is crying so hard that her tears are washing the dust off His feet. The Pharisees hadn't even thought to offer Jesus a basic towel — which was standard hospitality in that culture.

So this woman does something entirely undignified.

She lets down her hair. In a room full of men. She uses her tears as water. Her hair as a towel. And then —

She pours out the flask.

Every drop. Her financial security. Her dowry. Her retirement plan. Her lottery ticket. She doesn't pour out ten percent. She doesn't calculate the minimum required. She empties the entire flask over the feet of Jesus.

Across the room, Simon scoffs. He is disgusted. To Simon, this is a waste. It isn't financially prudent. It isn't socially acceptable.

But Jesus looks at the woman. He ignores the scoffs. And He fiercely defends her.

He looks at Simon — gaze penetrating — and says:

"I tell you, her sins—and they are many—have been forgiven, so she has shown me much love. But a person who is forgiven little shows only little love." — Luke 7:47

Now I want to be careful here. Because this verse gets misread all the time.

It sounds like Jesus is saying she earned her forgiveness by loving big. But that's not what's happening. Two verses earlier, Jesus tells a parable about two debtors who were both forgiven. He asks Simon, "Which one will love the moneylender more?" Simon answers: "The one who was forgiven more."

The love comes because of the forgiveness. Not the other way around.

You see, she didn't pour it out to earn His love. She poured it out because she had already received it.

The flask empties as the fruit. Not the price.

And why did she pour out her lottery ticket?

While to Simon, Jesus was a curiosity to be evaluated. To this woman, Jesus was a Savior who had rescued her soul. He was a her treasure.

When you find the True Treasure, you don't cling to the false one anymore. You don't hoard your security. You don't live in the anxiety of scarcity or the anxiety of surplus.

You gladly. Joyfully. Extravagantly. Pour it out.

BecauseTreasuring Jesus frees you from the anxiety of your circumstances and for the joy of generosity. That woman could pour out her whole future because she trusted her Savior to provide. And that brings us right back to Paul in his prison cell.

The Anchor: How Do I Know God Will Come Through?

He makes a promise here I don't want you to miss. Verse 19:

Philippians 4:19 NIV

19 And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus.

That's a stunning promise. And it raises an obvious question. How do I know God will actually do that?

My experience of life is that the bills don't always get paid. The diagnosis doesn't always reverse. The job doesn't always come back.

So how can Paul make such a bold claim?

Because of the cross.

Listen to how Paul argues it in Romans 8:32.

Romans 8:32 NIV

32 He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?

That's the logic.

If God was willing to give you the most expensive thing in the universe — the blood of His own Son — do you really think He's going to nickel-and-dime you on what you need to make it through Tuesday?

If He didn't spare Jesus for you, He's not going to abandon you now.

"My God will supply every need of yours" is not a promise of a full fridge. It's a promise of a full soul. Guaranteed by an empty tomb.

You can let go of the white-knuckle grip on your treasure. Because you are held by a Provider who has already proven — on a Roman cross — exactly what He's willing to spend on you.

The Witness: Caesar's Household

And then watch how Paul ends the letter. Verse 22.

Philippians 4:22 NIV

22 All God’s people here send you greetings, especially those who belong to Caesar’s household.

Don't blow past that.

Paul is in chains. The chain on his wrist runs to a Roman soldier who answers to Caesar. The whole Empire treats Caesar as a god — the supreme treasure, the supreme power, the supreme name in the known world.

And Paul — sitting in chains belonging to Caesar — signs off his letter:

Oh, by the way. Caesar's own household says hi. They're with us now.

The Treasure has spread.

It started in a prison cell. It jumped onto a Roman soldier who was forced to listen to Paul for hours a day. It climbed into the most powerful palace on earth.

The Gospel has infiltrated the throne room of the empire that thinks it owns Paul.

And this, Church, is what we've been learning all series long. This is defiant joy. Joy that doesn't depend on the weather. Joy that doesn't bow to the economy. Joy that doesn't break when the prison door closes.

And that kind of joy is contagious.

When contented Christians refuse to be ruled by their circumstances — their joy becomes a witness. Paul's chains became a pulpit. The treasure spreads to the next soldier. And the next. And the next.

The Philippian church gave money so Paul could keep preaching. Paul preached so Caesar's servants could be saved. The Kingdom keeps spreading. Even out of a prison cell.

That's the secret.

What Is Your Alabaster Flask?

So let me ask you something this morning. Where is your treasure?

You don't have to wonder. Just look at what keeps you awake at 2 a.m. Look at what makes your stomach knot up when it's threatened. Look at the thing you cannot imagine being content without.

That's your treasure.

If you are lying awake at 2 a.m. terrified that you don't have enough — look at the cross. Your God has already supplied your greatest need. He will not abandon you tomorrow.

If you are lying awake at 2 a.m. terrified of losing what you've built — look at the cross. You are gripping a treasure that is rusting. When you have been offered a Kingdom that is eternal.

Hear me carefully now. Because I do not want you to walk out of this room hearing the wrong thing.

You are not asked to be generous to earn Jesus. You are not asked to pour out your flask so God will love you. You are not asked to pull yourself together and try harder.

By faith, you are already loved. You are already bought. You are already rich beyond imagination in Christ.

The cross has already done its work.

So the question is not, How do I become the kind of person who can let go? The question is, Have I really seen what He spent for me?

Because when you really see that — when the Spirit of God opens your eyes to a Savior who walked to a cross with your name on His lips — your hands open on their own. Not because you forced them. Because grace has pried them open.

So here's the question I want you to carry out of this room.

What is your alabaster flask?

What's the thing you're holding so tightly that the thought of pouring it out on Jesus makes you nervous?

Maybe it's a percentage of your paycheck. Maybe it's the calendar you've been protecting from anything that might interrupt your Saturday. Maybe it's a savings number you've made a god of. Maybe it's a relationship you're hoarding because you're afraid of being alone.

Whatever it is — because you are already loved like this — this week, do one thing that doesn't make worldly sense. One thing that empties the flask in some small way. As a real act of worship.

Write the bigger check. Have the harder conversation. Open the calendar. Name the idol out loud to your spouse.

The woman in Luke 7 didn't go home and think about pouring it out. She emptied the flask.

Epaphroditus didn't consider the trip. He walked the road.

Paul didn't try to feel content. He treasured Jesus. And the freedom followed.

Treasuring Jesus frees you from the anxiety of your circumstances and for the joy of generosity.

Let's pray.