Here are two thought questions for you. Don’t overthink your answers; just let the first thoughts come to your mind, whatever they may be.

First, right now, are you happy?

And second, if you’re not, what would it take for you to be happy?

It’s been a little over two decades now since the birth of what’s known as positive psychology, a movement started by psychologist and researcher Martin Seligman. Instead of focusing on what’s wrong with our lives, positive psychology focuses on what’s right. Instead of trying merely to fix what’s broken, positive psychology attempts to build on what works so people can thrive and flourish.

Much of the research asks what makes people happy, what gives them a sense of well-being. Many of the things we’ve been taught will bring happiness really don’t. Beyond getting us out of poverty, for example, more money won’t make us happier in any lasting sense. Moreover, some researchers argue that what people really want isn’t happiness, at least in the sense of having strong positive emotions. What people want is lasting contentment, a state of feeling calm and settled even if things go awry.

But how content could we be if we were in prison? Could we feel settled and calm chained to guards? Just what does Paul mean when he says that he’s learned to be content no matter what?

. . .

Previously, we saw how Paul waits (controversially!) until the end of his letter to the Philippians to thank them for their gift of support. Realizing that his words could sound ungrateful, he tries to help them understand his mindset — because ultimately, it’s a mindset he wants them to share as they cope with their own troubles. He tells them that he rejoices in their gift, but not because he needs it to alleviate his distress:

I’m not saying this because I need anything, for I have learned how to be content in any circumstance. I know the experience of being in need and of having more than enough; I have learned the secret to being content in any and every circumstance, whether full or hungry or whether having plenty or being poor. I can endure all these things through the power of the one who gives me strength. (Phil 4:11-13, CEB)

We can’t tell simply from reading the English, but Paul’s vocabulary here in the Greek is interesting. Remember, he’s writing to Gentile converts familiar with the pagan practices and philosophies of the day. The word “content” could be translated as “self-sufficient,” a virtue touted by Stoic philosophers.

Self-sufficiency, in essence, meant having a kind of firm commitment to virtue that allowed one to rise above circumstances and not be affected by them emotionally. I think here of that advertising icon of stoicism and rugged individualism: the Marlboro Man. But whatever the image that comes to mind, some version of stoicism represents a modern (and Western) ideal for many. (Side note: the first Marlboro Man quit the job when he realized he was setting a bad example for his kids.)

Is that what Paul means? He’s learned to be a first-century Marlboro Man?

Moreover, what the Common English Bible translates as “I have learned the secret” can mean being “initiated into the mysteries” — a word the Philippians would have heard as describing paganism. Is Paul saying he’s been to a workshop on paganism and learned a thing or two?

Of course not. It helps to realize that the CEB, like many translations, inserts words that aren’t in the original. Paul doesn’t say, “I have learned the secret to being content.” Rather, as the updated New Revised Standard translates, he says, “I have learned the secret of being well-fed and of going hungry…”

Anyone want to volunteer to learn the secret of going hungry?

What Paul is doing is using language the Philippians would know in order to transform it, and thus to transform their understanding. It’s as if to say, “You know how people around you like to be initiated into secret and mysterious religious knowledge? Well, I can tell you from experience: the wisdom we really need comes through being ‘initiated’ into the ups and downs of life.”

And what do we learn? Stoic self-sufficiency? No, because here too Paul transforms the idea. As Gordon Fee puts it, Paul isn’t teaching self-sufficiency; he’s giving them an example of Christ-sufficiency: “I can endure all these things through the power of the one who gives me strength.”

We’ll examine that last phrase more closely in the next post.