The conflicts between Christians described in 4:2-5 remind us of how difficult it can be to maintain joy, and its close cousin, peace. There are conflicts from within the church (1:15-18; 3:2ff; 4:2-5), and conflicts from without (1:27,28). We have our own contrary desires and needs which we are eager to attend (2:3,4). These concerns in the first century, and now in the twenty-first, cause anxiety and rob us of our joy, deprive us of peace. Yet Christian joy is constant. It is deep. It is not the superficial quality that the world calls happiness. In Christ we can be “sorrowful,” yes, “yet always rejoicing” (2 Cor 6:10). We are not pretending that hardships will not come. We are not whitewashing the sorrows and suffering of life. But we are saying that there remains a bedrock of supernatural joy in Christ that persists even in the heartaches and disappointments of life.

Jesus not only promised us the joy that we’ve examined in our last two studies (Phil 4:1-5; cf. Jn 15:11, 17:13), He also promised peace. Jesus said,

Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you; not as the world gives, do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, nor let it be fearful. (Jn 14:27)

Joy and peace are often paired together (e.g. Gal 5:22). If joy is happiness at depth, peace is calm, as in “remain calm,” at depth. It is a settled confidence of ultimate safety and well being, in the face of the trials and hardships and concerns of life. It is the opposite of anxiety, worry, or fretfulness. It is supernatural, “the peace of God,” the “fruit of the Spirit” (Gal 5:22).

As we saw in the case of joy, the world desperately wants peace. Pleasure may be the primary interest of the young, but peace seems to take over as we age. Yet even the young, in their own way, seek peace of mind. They too are anxious. What environment is more threatening than the average middle school? There probably isn’t anyone at any age or station in life who doesn’t experience the problem of anxiety. The human condition is one of uncertainty, of danger, of trouble. Jesus said, “In the world you have tribulation” (Jn 16:33). To be human is to worry. We live in an unpredictable and often dangerous world. Anxiety begins in infancy and continues until the day we die.

The world, as a consequence, seeks to deal with anxiety by offering false peace in a number of forms, which we may mention without belaboring the point. The constant theme which ties together these counterfeits is escape, primarily escape from God.

According to Scripture every child of Adam knows of God, the law of God, and of their own condemnation (Rom 1:18-32; 2:15). This knowledge is suppressed through various forms of escapism, activities which push the knowledge of God below the surface where it will not trouble. So we escape to sports and recreation; we escape to work and the quest for achievement and recognition; we escape to entertainment in all its forms; we escape to promiscuity and sensual pleasure; we kick up the pace of life into high gear and live frenetically, keeping so busy that we hardly have time to think, much less ponder the themes of time and eternity. Temporary peace is possible. We can procure a moment or two of peace through pills, or a bottle, or amusement, or hyper-activity, but it doesn’t last. The prophet Isaiah says, “There is no peace for the wicked,” likening their experience to “the tossing sea,” which “cannot be quiet, and its waters toss up refuse and mud” (Is 57:21). The false god and idols and various counterfeits, like the false prophets of old, cannot deliver. They can only promise “peace, peace, where there is no peace” (Jer 6:14; 8:11). Peace may only be found through the “Prince of Peace” (Is 7:14). True peace, the “peace of God,” may only be found in Christ. Jesus said,

These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. (Jn 16:33a)

“In me,” Jesus says, we may have peace. What eloquent and tragic testimony we have had in recent weeks of the utter failure of the world to deliver the psychological well-being that it promises. Yet another in a long line of fabulously wealthy and singularly famous celebrities is found to be addicted to multiple narcotics, and dead at the age of 50. All that this present world has to offer he had in abundance, yet what a strange, twisted, and tortured world he inhabited. The world cannot solve the anxiety of the soul. The temporal cannot answer our troubled thoughts of the eternal. The physical cannot satisfy the anxiety of the spiritual. This present age cannot bring us peace. Only God can give peace to those created in His image, and He does so only in Christ Jesus. “Come to Me,” Jesus says, “and you shall find rest for your souls” (Mt 11:28-30).

Anxiety

Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. (Phil 4:6)

The peace of God is comprehensive. We are to be “anxious for nothing.” “Do not be anxious about anything” (ESV/NIV). We are not to let anything get to us. Rather, “in everything,” that is in every circumstance of life, in every trial, in every hardship, in every sorrow, we are to experience that peace. His language “excludes all exceptions,” says O’Brien.1 Yet even for Christians the persistence of Jesus’ peace is not automatic. We continue to have problems with anxiety. Why do we become anxious? I’ve tried to reduce our problems to three contexts.

First, we become anxious about the future, and with the future, the unknown. We fear what the future might hold. I fear an exam because I don’t know what will be on it, or if I do know what’s on it I fear I won’t remember the correct answers. I fear graduation because I don’t know where I should work or even what kind of work I should do. What will the future bring? Where will I be? What will I do? How will I support myself? We’re anxious about flying – the plane might crash; anxious about swimming in the ocean – there may be sharks. We’re anxious about moving our residence because we’re concerned about what our new neighbors may be like.

Will our nation be attacked again? Will the economy collapse? Will inflation return? Will a hurricane or tornado blow through? It’s the unknown we fear. How will I pay the rent? How will I afford food this month? How will I survive without this or that loved one? How will I cope with loneliness? Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount warned that we were not to be anxious about these sorts of things, about what we shall eat, or what we shall drink, or with what we shall clothe ourselves. These are the things that pagans worry about. We are to seek first the kingdom of God and trust that He will take care of the rest (Mt 6:25-33). Jesus says, “Therefore do not be anxious for tomorrow” (i.e. for the future); “for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own” (Mt 6:34). Jesus warned in the Parable of the Sower that “the worry of the world” chokes out the word so that it will be “unfruitful” (Mt 13:22).

Is there a legitimate concern about the future? After all, it would be irresponsible to completely ignore the future, wouldn’t it? Shouldn’t we plan for the future so that we’ll be able to care for ourselves and others? Yes, indeed. The difference between legitimate concern and anxiety is often a matter of degree. Anxiety typically is a corruption of good things. The word that the Apostle Paul uses for anxiety is elsewhere translated “concern” (e.g. Phil 2:20). There is concern, and then there is concern. There is legitimate concern, and then there is concern that goes too far. Concern and anxiety lie on a spectrum. At some point we cross the line that separates the legitimate from the illegitimate. For example, a conscientious and sensitive parent wishes to protect his or her child. But concern spills over into worry and fretfulness. The parent comes to be preoccupied and consumed by it, and that concern to protect chokes out the spiritual life. There is no room left for the soul in that parent’s thought life. It is interesting that Jesus warned His disciples on the eve of His betrayal to “Be on guard, that your hearts may not be weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of life” lest the day of judgment “close on you unexpectedly like a trap” (Lk 21:34).

Second, we become anxious about the present. Sometimes our anxiety is caused by our dissatisfaction with who we are, and where we are, and our consequent struggle to become something or gain something beyond our reach. We regularly see this with students. I may know I’m really only a “B” student but I want that “A,” and so I work and fret and worry myself sick, trying to be something I’m not. There are countless middle-aged average men suffering heart attacks before their time because they are trying to make more and more money in order to climb the professional or social ladder, to become rich and establish a measure of prestige. So they work and strive and worry themselves literally to death, trying to be something which basically they are not; that is, a simple, humble, ordinary, average person. This is what is behind the mid-life crisis. I don’t like what I am. I don’t like where I live. I don’t like who I’m married to. A simmering anxiety about life leads to upheaval: marital affairs, divorces, business corruption.

We put tremendous pressure on ourselves when we try to reach beyond our capabilities and callings and be something we are not. Martha seemed to aspire to be the perfect hostess, and so “was distracted by all her preparations” (Lk 10:40). Most of us are average. If most of us weren’t average, then average wouldn’t be average; it would be exceptional. Only in Lake Wobegon are all the children above average. Most of us will never be great athletes, or professionals, or businessmen. To try to be what I am basically incapable of being is to load on my shoulders a burden I am not able to carry, hence this causes tremendous anxiety and unhappiness. The answer, of course, is to be content with our circumstances, but we’ll wait until Philippians 4:10-13 to deal directly with that. In the meantime, we recognize how difficult it is to find contentment.

Third, we remain anxious about the past. The shame, the burden of past faults and failures can be a source of tremendous anxiety for us. I still get strong feelings of frustration when I think of foolish things I said or did, or remember almost accomplishments which fell just short. The thoughts of “if only” can plague us. If only I hadn’t done this or that. If only I had known. If only I had kept my mouth shut. For years after my grandfather died, I was tortured by guilt that I hadn’t spent enough time with him, and if only I hadn’t been so selfish then perhaps he wouldn’t have been so lonely and lost the will to live. We are to confess our sins, learn from our failures, and leave them behind. Instead we can brood on such things and torture ourselves, inflicting unnecessary pain and anxiety. This anxiety about the past is the most frustrating sort of worry because there’s nothing to be done. We cannot undo the past.

Prayer

So what is the Apostle Paul’s remedy for anxiety? Prayer. Be anxious in nothing, but in everything pray. The correct response in every situation is not anxiety but prayer. Prayer will dispel anxiety and usher in peace.

“Just pray about it,” seems shallow counsel. Seems almost like magic, or maybe a gimmick of positive thinking. How does prayer help in anxiety? For us to answer this question we must first answer two additional questions: what is prayer, and what kind of prayers are we to pray?

First, what is prayer? Prayer, understood most simply, is drawing near to God. When I am anxious, when I am overcome with fear, when I am troubled, the very best thing that I can do is draw near to God in the place of prayer. When some great trial lies ahead; when some great temptation confronts; when overwhelmed by a sense of foreboding, what can I do? I can cry out to God. I can call upon God for help. I can ask God to calm my fears and solve my problems. This is not our last resort, it is our best resort. It is not an act of despair, but an alternative to despair.

Urging steadfastness to those who are tempted to abandon the faith in order to escape persecution and suffering, the writer to the Hebrews pleads, “let us hold fast our confession.” He continues,

For we do not have a high priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but One who has been tempted in all things as we are, yet without sin. (Heb 4:15)

Since we have such a high priest, what are we to do?

Let us therefore draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and may find grace to help in time of need. (Heb 4:16)

We are to “draw near . . . to the throne of grace.” That is, we are to pray. To what effect? “That we may receive mercy and may find grace to help in time of need.” Mercy. Grace. Help. This is what we receive through prayer (cf. Heb 2:17,18).

He says essentially the same thing again in Hebrews 10:19ff. Since we have access to the holy place by the blood of Jesus, and since He is our High Priest, “let us draw near with a sincere heart” (10:22). The promise of the Bible is, “Draw near to God and He will draw near to you” (Jas 4:8). The Book of Psalms provides multiple examples of distressed souls crying out to God for help (e.g. Pss 3-7; 9-18; 19-23; 25-28, etc.). This may be the primary lesson of the entire Psalter. Troubled? Anxious? Disturbed? Take your problems to God, the one for whom nothing is impossible and in whom all things are possible (Lk 1:37; Mk 9:23). He is able to do “exceeding abundantly beyond all that we can ask or think” (Eph 3:20; cf. Phil 4:19). Jesus says,

"Ask, and it shall be given to you; seek, and you shall find; knock, and it shall be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it shall be opened.” (Mt 7:7,8)

These are promises: “it shall be given . . . you shall find . . . it shall be opened.” Conversely James warns, “you have not because you ask not” (Jas 4:2). You may remember in John Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress that Christian and Hopeful remained trapped in Doubting Castle, prisoners of Great Despair and his wife Diffidence until Saturday midnight. Then “they began to pray, and continued in prayer till almost break of day.” Through prayer they realized the way of escape, and with a key called “promise,” unlocked the gates that kept them imprisoned and escaped their doubts and despair. Troubled? Don’t “just pray about it.” Rather, draw near to God. Take your problem to the foot of the cross. Find there “refuge and strength” in the time of need (Ps 46:1). Dwell “in the shelter of the Most High” and “abide in the shadow of the Almighty” (Ps 91:1). “I love the Lord,” the Psalmist says, “because He hears my voice and my supplications” (Ps 116:1). Pray because God is the solution to whatever problems we have. Peter puts it this way:

Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you at the proper time, casting all your anxiety upon Him, because He cares for you. (1 Pet 5:6,7)

“Humble yourselves” is probably a reference to prayer. Turn to God and cast “all your anxiety upon Him.” Seize hold of that invitation. Take all your anxiety and lay it at the foot of the cross in the confidence that “He cares for you.”

A number of years ago a bumper sticker with the statement, “Jesus is the answer” became quite popular. Then a bumper sticker response began to appear, “What is the question?” Our response should be (with some hyperbole), it doesn’t matter. Whatever the problem is, Jesus is the answer. This includes every kind of problem from international conflicts to sibling rivalries. Finally, ultimately, our problems are solved, our anxiety relieved by God. A “makeover” won’t do. A dose of anti-depressants won’t help. Positive-thinking is futile. What we need is the “peace of God.” That peace is the fruit of the Spirit. That peace only Jesus can give. Come to Him. He is the way to the Father (Jn 14:6). Repent of your idols and lusts, of your false peace and counterfeit joy. Come to Jesus, and find rest for your soul.

Second, what kind of prayers are we to pray? We are to pray in depth.

It helps to notice that the Apostle Paul uses four different words for prayer. He mentions “Prayer” (proseuchē), “supplication” (deēsis), “thanksgiving” (eucharistia), and “requests” (aitēma). The “thanksgiving” is a distinctive prayer genre, but the other three terms overlap and probably do not indicate particular types of prayer. Rather, it is a way of indicating comprehensiveness in prayer, full-orbed prayer, or a full-diet of prayer.2 A similar heaping together of prayer terminology may be found in 1 Timothy 2:1ff, and also may be indicated by the Apostle Paul’s referring to “all prayer and petition” (Eph 6:18). So it is unlikely that the Apostle Paul means “just pray.” He has in mind commitment to the whole spectrum of prayer, prayer as praise, confession, thanksgiving, and supplication, as that which will cure our proneness to anxiety.

The problem with our prayers, too much of the time, is that they are too few, too shallow, and too short. We play at prayer. We pray when we feel like it. The Apostles instruct us to “discipline ourselves for the purpose of godliness” (1 Tim 4:7). But our prayers are hit and miss. They are irregular. We pray when we feel like it. We even ask, “pray a quick prayer for me.” “Quick” prayers are normally worthless. They are about as effective as when my son calls and says, “Dad, real quick, I need a thousand dollars. Gotta run. Bye.” Why should we think that God is any more pleased with flippancy than we are? We pray in a crisis. We pray as we are able to fit it in. We pray when we manage time for it, which is occasionally, not regularly, periodically, not routinely. This is not anxiety resolving prayer because the presence of God, to whom we draw near in prayer, is experienced too quickly, too superficially, and too infrequently.

1. Our prayers should begin with the praise of God. We should normally begin our prayers with a worshipful, reverent address to God, with praising God for who He is and what He has done.

We normally should not burst into God’s presence, even when under anxiety, and present a shopping list. We should follow the pattern that Jesus established: “Our Father, who are in heaven, hallowed be Thy Name.” He didn’t teach us to pray, “Lord, do this, do this, and do this.” When I was first an intern in Scotland I prayed several of my “Father, we just really . . .” prayers until finally Mr. White, the minister, told me if I had been Jesus, I wouldn’t have prayed half the Lord’s prayer. I would have skipped the parts about Father, heaven, hallowed, His kingdom, and so on. I would have said, “Here’s what I want.” There is more to prayer than requests. We begin our prayer by recognizing who God is: our Father who rules and reigns in heaven, who is holy and righteous and just. Then Jesus continues, “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done.” He focuses on God’s affairs, on God’s cause, and dwells on what God’s doing rather than on the affairs of daily life. Then when Jesus concludes His prayer He says, “Thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever.” Jesus’ focus in prayer is upon the praise and glory of God. The psalmist urges that we “Come before Him with joyful singing,” that we “Enter His gates with thanksgiving, and His courts with praise” (Ps 100:2-4).

Praying like this in itself is a great cure for anxiety because it dwells on the greatness and goodness of God in light of which problems and worries and cares will come to seem insignificant – like grains of sand or dust. David prays, “Thine, O Lord, is the greatness and power and glory, victory, majesty, indeed everything that is in heaven and earth, Thine is the dominion, O Lord – and You exalt Yourself as head over all” (1 Chron 29:11). In time of great crisis Hezekiah begins his prayer for deliverance from the Assyrians,

And Hezekiah prayed before the Lord and said, "O Lord, the God of Israel, who art enthroned above the cherubim, Thou art the God, Thou alone, of all the kingdoms of the earth. Thou hast made heaven and earth. (2 Kings 19:15)

Then he goes on to pray,

"Incline Thine ear, O Lord, and hear; open Thine eyes, O Lord, and see; and listen to the words of Sennacherib, which he has sent to reproach the living God. (2 Kings 19:16)

But he gets first things first. Similarly, Jeremiah ponders an impossible situation and prays,

Ah Lord God! Behold, Thou hast made the heavens and the earth by Thy great power and by Thine outstretched arm! Nothing is too difficult for Thee, (Jer 32:17)

So what am I worried about? Why should I be anxious? God is able to do all things. He is able to do the impossible (Lk 1:37). All things are possible with Him (Mk 9:23). He can handle my present, my past, and my future.

2. We should confess our sins. There is a natural and logical flow from the praise of God to the confession of our sins. When we remind ourselves that God is “holy, holy, holy,” it is characteristic that we should respond, “Woe is me . . . because I am a man of unclean lips” (Is 6:3-5).

This is how we are to deal with the guilt-induced anxiety that lies in our past. We are to confess our sins in detail. It won’t do to merely repeat rotely, “Forgive me all my sins.” Heart-searching, motive-searching confessions of sin committed by thought, word, and deed, for evil done and good left undone, are what heal the soul. Confess without excuse, without blame-shifting, and without self-justification. Then look to the cross. Claim the promise of forgiveness (1 Jn 1:9). Claim the promise of peace with God (Rom 5:1). Hear the word of pardon: “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Rom 8:1).

Solid confession purges the soul of guilt and guilt-feelings. It liberates us from the “if only” disease. It frees us from the past. Does He not say, “I will remember their sins no more” (Heb 10:17; Jer 31:34). Has He not removed our transgressions “as far as the east is from the west” (Ps 103:12)? Has He not buried our sins in the depths of the sea (Micah 7:19)? We are not doomed to remember from the past what God is pledged to forget.

3. Pray with thanksgiving. One of the quirks of the human condition is our tendency to fixate on what we don’t have, rather than what we have. We fret and worry about the missing item that we must have. We become so anxious to get it, that we grow blind to the abundance we already have. Consequently it is valuable for us to rehearse in prayer what God has given to us, spiritually and materially. If we might restate an old proverb, it’s easy to cry about having no shoes until you meet the person with no feet. It’s easy to resent your pitiful house until you meet the homeless. It’s easy to resent your sorry automobile until you find yourself without transportation. It’s easy to resent your lousy meals until you meet the hungry. “In everything give thanks,” says the Apostle (1 Thess 5:18; cf. Eph 5:20; Col 3:16). Pray with thanksgiving for your personal salvation, for your growth, for your church, for its ministry, for your Christian friends, for the roof over your head, the clothes on your back, the food on the table, and so on. See if you aren’t considerably more at peace than otherwise. But what if I’m undergoing trials and suffering? Am I to give thanks even then? The surprising answer is yes. Even as we pray to be delivered from them, we can give thanks for them knowing that they came to us from our all wise, all powerful, all good God for our good (Rom 8:28). He who has numbered the hairs upon our heads can be trusted. “The regular offering of thanks to God,” says O’Brien, “is almost synonymous with being a Christian.”3

4. Offer your petitions. The second word, “supplication,” if it has a nuance, is a humble beseeching of God for that which is needed. We approach a king as supplicants – as humble and submissive subjects. Supplication is asking God for the basics of life. Then the Apostle Paul invites us to “let (our) requests be made known to God.” Having praised God and confessed our sins and given thanks, we still find ourselves burdened with needs and concerns. What are we to do? We are to go ahead and pour out our hearts to God. “Go ahead and ask.” Whatever is on your heart, ask and be specific. The word translated “requests” (aitemata) means definite and precise petitions.

Whatever is on our hearts, no matter how big or small, our Father cares and wishes to hear about it. He who knows the number of hairs on our head (Mt 10:30), and who watches over every sparrow that falls (Mt 10:29), cares about our every care and worry. We are to humble ourselves, “casting all (our) anxiety upon Him, because He cares for (us) (1 Pet 5:7). When we make our requests we can do so with perfect peace (1) because if our request is wise, He’ll grant it; and (2) if it is foolish, He’ll say no. So we’re safe. It is a relief to know that I can pray for anything and know that God will say no when my request would prove harmful.

Sometimes it is asked, “Should I pray for so and so to be healed or not? It may not be God’s will.” The answer to that is yes, you should pray for healing. Sickness is a result of the fall (like sin) and so always to be prayed against. This is the revealed will of God. His secret will may be to allow the sickness to continue, even unto death. But we don’t concern ourselves with that. We pray whatever is on our heart and allow Him to say “no” when such is the case.

So we are to take any and everything – every worry, every anxious thought, and every concern to the Lord and leave it with Him knowing that He’ll take care of it. We don’t know the future, but we pray to one who not only knows it but controls it, and says that everything now as well as in the future is for the good of His people (Rom 8:28). Life without this knowledge is desperate indeed. Who knows what is coming next? Disaster could strike and I could pass into oblivion tomorrow. As Christians we know the future holds no bad surprises because He is our Father, and He is in control.

Peace

The result of our comprehensive prayer, our full-orbed prayer, will be peace.

And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, shall guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. (Phil 4:7)

He promises not that our prayers will be answered in the affirmative, or that we will escape the circumstances that are the occasion of our anxiety, but escape from the anxiety itself. He promises the “peace of God.”

The peace which God gives is supernatural and unique and beyond description and understanding. It is “not as the world gives” (Jn 14:27). It is so deep, so great, so matchless that it defies description. It “passes comprehension.” It is “beyond all imagination.”4 It is beyond explanation. “My peace I give to you,” Jesus said (Jn 14:27). This is not positive thinking but a divine endowment. Remember we said that joy and peace are virtually the same thing. In trials, in anxious moments, joy is that sweet sorrow, that inner peace that calms the soul while the storm waves crash all around us. How many times have I heard believers testify that in the greatest trials of their lives, sickness, tragedy, death, God has given them supernatural peace as they have knelt humbly before Him in those shattering days.

The Apostle says this peace has a functional value. It keeps guard over our hearts and thoughts. “To guard” is a military term “used of a detachment of soldiers who stand guard over a city and protect it from attack.”5 In times of trial we might be tempted to doubt God, to deny His goodness or power, to see Him as either cruel or weak. We might be tempted to give up and say, “This Christianity is all a game anyway.” “God doesn’t care – that is, if He is there at all.” In such times the peace of God guards our hearts and thoughts. God in response to our prayers give us His peace as a token of His love, as a sign that despite all our trials He still rules in heaven and still loves His children. This peace strengthens our hearts and minds; it reminds us of His greatness and goodness and gives us the courage to go on. We are able to sing, “Be still my soul: the Lord is on thy side.” It may not seem like it, but He is. His peace is a reminder – a sign – that the Lord is on our side. He remains our refuge and strength (Ps 46:1). He does not sleep or slumber (Ps 121:4). He is alive and alert to all our circumstances, all our needs, all the time.