Sunday’s
Child: Paul
Philippians 4:4-13; Matthew 6:25-34
Text
Have no anxiety about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, will keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.
--Philippians 4:6-7
Introduction
Perhaps it is not for us to know, but I want to know. Perhaps it is not for us to understand, but I want to understand. Perhaps it is not for us to comprehend, but I want to comprehend. What I want to know, and what I want to understand, and what I want to comprehend is how the Apostle Paul—chained like a slave, imprisoned and awaiting trial—can write these words to the Philippians, “Have no anxiety about anything.” Realizing the numerous hardships Paul endured, this is utterly astounding to us.
The Apostle Paul’s Hardships
Paul had journeyed along the coast of Macedonia and Asia Minor, arrived in Jerusalem and was arrested, then taken as a prisoner to Caesarea, where he was held in chains in custody for two years, afterwards taken as a prisoner to Rome. Paul’s voyage to Rome was disastrous: he suffered shipwreck on the Island of Malta, finally arriving at Rome in early summer of A.D. 61 and again remained a prisoner in chains for another two years. We know from his Second Letter to the Corinthians—probably written a decade before his Letter to the Philippians—what horrendous adversities Paul had suffered. In contrast to those who boasted of worldly things, Paul boasted of the things that showed his weaknesses, reciting a long litany of the hardships he had endured. Are they [those who boast] Hebrews? So am I. Are they Israelites? So am I. Are they descendants of Abraham? So am I.23Are they servants of Christ? I am a better one . . . with far greater labors, far more imprisonments, with countless beatings, and often near death.24Five times I have received at the hands of the Jews the forty lashes less one.25Three times I have been beaten with rods; once I was stoned. Three times I have been shipwrecked; a night and a day I have been adrift at sea;26on frequent journeys, [I have been] in danger from rivers, danger from robbers, danger from my own people, danger from Gentiles, danger in the city, danger in the wilderness, danger at sea, danger from false brothers and sisters;27in toil and hardship, through many a sleepless night, in hunger and thirst, often without food, in cold and exposure.28And, apart from other things, there is the daily pressure upon me of my anxiety for all the churches. [1]
While writing to the Philippians, at this juncture in his life, Paul is old; this is only five years before his death; but this entire letter breathes Paul’s radiant joy and serene happiness in Christ, even while in prison and in danger of death. Given all of this, as a prisoner of Christ Jesus on behalf of the Gentiles, [2] Paul writes, “Have no anxiety about anything.”
In an Age of Anxiety
Perhaps it is not for us to know, but I want to know. Perhaps it is not for us to understand, but I want to understand. Perhaps it is not for us to comprehend, but I want to comprehend. What I want to know, and what I want to understand, and what I want to comprehend is how the Apostle Paul—chained like a slave, imprisoned and awaiting trial—can write these words to the Philippians, “Have no anxiety about anything.” It is utterly astounding to me, for I suspect that we—on certain days, on an unconscious level, figuratively speaking—find ourselves suffocating, buried alive, so to speak…in an avalanche of apprehension. On occasion, if not chronically, you and I find ourselves gasping for air as—through the rubble of fear and stress—we search for serenity in an age of anxiety.
Robert Gerzon, a psychiatrist who resides and practices in Boston has pointed out that:
Anxiety can block our growth more effectively than anything else—more than poverty, illness, misfortune, or any environmental factor…anxiety affects the way we think…. Those of us who have been tormented by anxiety know that it often feels like a phantom stalking the inner recesses of the mind … All of us know what anxiety feels like, for we have all experienced it in some form. Anxiety is a generalized state of arousal in response to a perceived threat to our well-being. In its milder forms—which we often recognize as stress, tension, and worry—we find ourselves feeling vaguely hassled, irritated, or uptight. … When anxiety lurks malevolently in the background, we may feel vaguely uneasy, tense, or on edge. When anxiety is in full fire-breathing pursuit, it can induce the most heart-pounding terror we have ever experienced. [3]
You and I have been there. You and I have been buried in that avalanche of anxiety in the world in which we live, over-stimulated by greater expectations than we can handle. We have gasped for breath in this highly productive nation amidst enormous demands.
At times you and I face seemingly insurmountable problems in our individual lives, or we suffer immeasurable losses of precious people in our personal spheres, or we are confronted by dire circumstances and situations that seem to have no exit or solutions. And on those occasions we see that there is something in ourselves that makes peace a rare experience. And we discover that there is something in us that makes peace of mind an intangible . . . an allusive, evasive goal, never reached or—at least—seldom realized.
Then to our dismay, we hear Paul saying to the Philippians: “. . . have no anxiety about anything . . . in any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and want . . . I have learned, in whatever state I am, to be content.” [4] And we wonder how Paul can say, “Have no anxiety about anything.” What, pray tell, is his secret? Of course the initial answer is that Paul was a Sunday’s Child.
Born on the Sabbath Day
Last summer—in the months of July and August, concluding with Labor Day Sunday—I preached for us a six-part sermon series on Children of God, based on that old, well-known rhyme by which some have contended that the day of our child’s birth most assuredly determines our child’s nature:
Monday’s child is fair of face,
Tuesday’s child is full of grace
Wednesday’s child is full of woe,
Thursday’s child has far to go,
Friday’s child is loving and giving,
Saturday’s child has to work for a living,
But a child that’s born on the Sabbath day
is fair and wise and good and gay.
(Of course, gay in this context means joyous).
Today we complete the series on Children of God with our attention turned to the Apostle Paul, a Sunday’s Child who expresses joy in the midst of severe adversity and who rejoices even in the face of death. How can Paul be a Sunday’s Child—fair and wise and good and gay—who has no anxiety about anything?
Well, to tell the truth, I know we all know! In our most intuitive thought, we understand the same secret that the Apostle Paul had learned. I have learned the secret, declares Paul, of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and want. I can do all things in him (Christ) who strengthens me.
Aspects of the Secret
So what is the secret for peace of mind for Paul? How could he be a non-anxious presence in such devastating dilemmas and harrowing hardships? There are three aspects of his secret.
I.
The Lord Is at Hand
This verse, have no anxiety about anything, is preceded by part of the answer: the Lord is at hand. [5] Five words! Isn’t that a magnificent statement! A five-word affirmation of faith, which is empowering, uplifting, which ultimately provides us with the victory and conviction that carries us through this life as joyous Christians. What Paul is speaking of here is the empowering nearness of God in Christ. Nearer than breath, dearer than life, God resides with us in Jesus Christ, the very same Christ, whose birth each year we celebrate as the Messiah who comes to us as the Child of Bethlehem, the Immanuel: God with us, the One who by his Incarnation makes it perfectly clear to us that The Lord is at hand, nearer than breath, dearer than life.
The Apostle Paul had expanded upon this affirmation with even greater emphasis to the Romans: Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? . . . . No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. [6] Indeed, the Lord--from whom we cannot be separated--is at hand . . . .therefore, have no anxiety about anything . . . . . This is the first key to the secret Paul had learned, the secret we intuitive by faith understand as well.
II.
Think about These Things
The second admonition that Paul states here to the Philippians is: Think about these things. Beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. [7]
One of the great teachings on which many of us were nurtured came from Proverbs 23:7 (KJV): As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he. Of course, the very same is true for women: As a woman thinketh in her heart, so is she. We have to acknowledge along with Paul that our mind—which we have in Christ Jesus--is the master-weaver both of our inner garment of character and the outer garment of circumstance. . . as “a person thinketh in his or her heart” is so comprehensive a truth as to reach out to every condition and circumstance of our lives, our character being the complete sum of all our thoughts that are stayed on Christ. . . . . A noble and God-like character is not a thing of happen-stance or chance, but is the natural result of continued effort in right thinking, the effect of long-cherished association with God-like thought. [8] So, writes Paul, think about these things! Think about whatever is true and honorable and just and pure and lovely and gracious.
You know as well as I do, without being the least bit prudish or self-righteous, that you and I live in a profane world. I can ride the light transit trolley into Pittsburgh and back again or walk along Pittsburgh’s busy streets and hear people young and old alike using surprising vulgarity. It is a challenge for us to work in the market place, or study in our schools, or attend recreational events without profanity assaulting our ears. The Apostle Paul prescribes something quite different as a necessary part of the secret about peace of mind: namely, that we who keep our minds on Christ should think about what is pure and lovely, of what is excellent and worthy of praise.
We at Sunset Hills Presbyterian Church—both young and old, adult and children alike—know this aspect of the secret, for we spend our lives teaching children that which is true and pure and lovely: the stories of Jesus.
Tell me the stories of Jesus, I love to hear;
Things I would ask Him to tell me if He were near;
Scenes by the wayside, tales of the sea,
Stories of Jesus, tell them to me.
We at SHUP, keeping our mind on Christ, learned these stories of Jesus when we were children and then told these stories of Jesus to our children. If I were ever asked to point to a people who are the product of a mind set on Christ, whose conversation and behavior exemplify what is pure and just and true and lovely, I would point to you, the faithful people in this church, who perpetually think about these things.
III.
Rejoice in the Lord Always
There is a third part of the secret Paul learned: Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice! I rejoice in the Lord greatly. [9] The Lord of whom Paul is speaking here is the same Lord about whom he said to the Corinthians: For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified. [10]
It is the same Lord who is the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world. It is the same Lord who was dragged to a painful violence by brutes who had God at their mercy and made sport of him to their hearts’ content. It is the same Lord who, when the most awful moment had come, suffered the cloth of his mantle to be stripped from his wounds, the same Lord who felt the blows of the hammer and heard them resound upon the nails. Then the tree was raised, and it blocked the sun; the weight of his human flesh sagged beneath the riveting nails; and when his raging thirst had been quenched with vinegar, myrrh and gall, and when his nakedness glimmered in the sun, and when the shame of the poor butchered flesh reeked of pending death, when he had breathed his last, and when the razor-sharp spear pierced his side and his blood gushed out. . . . then, at that very moment, our sins were forgiven. [11]
We rejoice in the Lord always, for by the saving grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, we are redeemed, we are forgiven, we are washed whiter than snow, and we are joint heirs with Jesus. And that, my friends, is great cause for rejoicing, for that’s part of the secret that Paul learned and which we comprehend.
Conclusion
Paul’s secret -- our secret.
I met God in the morning
When my day was at its best,
And His presence came like sunrise,
Like a glory in my breast.
All day long the Presence lingered,
All day long He stayed with me,
And we sailed in perfect calmness
O’er a very troubled sea.
Other ships were blown and battered,
Other ships were sore distressed,
But the winds that seemed to drive them
Brought to us a peace and rest.
Then I thought of other mornings,
With a keen remorse of mind,
When I too had loosed the moorings,
With the Presence left behind.
So I think I know the secret,
Learned from many a troubled way;
You must seek Him in the morning
If you want Him through the day! [12]
Paul’s secret: The Lord is at hand; think about these things; rejoice in the Lord always. Little wonder Paul was a Sunday’s Child, fair and wise and good and gay.
Paul’s peace can become our peace. . . if we will only make Paul’s secret our secret:
Have no anxiety about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, will keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.
So it is! And so it ever will be!
g g g
Notes
[1] II Corinthians 11:22-28
[2] Ephesians 3:1
[3] Robert Gerzon, Finding Serenity in the Age of Anxiety, excerpts from chapter 1
[4] Philippians 4: 12, 11
[5] Philippians 4:5
[6] Romans 8:35-39
[7] Philippians 4:8
[8] See James Allen, As a Man Thinketh
[9] Philippians 4: 4, 10
[10] I Corinthians 2:2
[11] I am indebted to François Mauriac; some of the phrases in this paragraph come from his book
titled Life of Jesus.
[12] Ralph Spaulding Cushman, The Secret, 1879
Philippians 4:4-13; Matthew 6:25-34
Text
Have no anxiety about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, will keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.
--Philippians 4:6-7
Introduction
Perhaps it is not for us to know, but I want to know. Perhaps it is not for us to understand, but I want to understand. Perhaps it is not for us to comprehend, but I want to comprehend. What I want to know, and what I want to understand, and what I want to comprehend is how the Apostle Paul—chained like a slave, imprisoned and awaiting trial—can write these words to the Philippians, “Have no anxiety about anything.” Realizing the numerous hardships Paul endured, this is utterly astounding to us.
The Apostle Paul’s Hardships
Paul had journeyed along the coast of Macedonia and Asia Minor, arrived in Jerusalem and was arrested, then taken as a prisoner to Caesarea, where he was held in chains in custody for two years, afterwards taken as a prisoner to Rome. Paul’s voyage to Rome was disastrous: he suffered shipwreck on the Island of Malta, finally arriving at Rome in early summer of A.D. 61 and again remained a prisoner in chains for another two years. We know from his Second Letter to the Corinthians—probably written a decade before his Letter to the Philippians—what horrendous adversities Paul had suffered. In contrast to those who boasted of worldly things, Paul boasted of the things that showed his weaknesses, reciting a long litany of the hardships he had endured. Are they [those who boast] Hebrews? So am I. Are they Israelites? So am I. Are they descendants of Abraham? So am I.23Are they servants of Christ? I am a better one . . . with far greater labors, far more imprisonments, with countless beatings, and often near death.24Five times I have received at the hands of the Jews the forty lashes less one.25Three times I have been beaten with rods; once I was stoned. Three times I have been shipwrecked; a night and a day I have been adrift at sea;26on frequent journeys, [I have been] in danger from rivers, danger from robbers, danger from my own people, danger from Gentiles, danger in the city, danger in the wilderness, danger at sea, danger from false brothers and sisters;27in toil and hardship, through many a sleepless night, in hunger and thirst, often without food, in cold and exposure.28And, apart from other things, there is the daily pressure upon me of my anxiety for all the churches. [1]
While writing to the Philippians, at this juncture in his life, Paul is old; this is only five years before his death; but this entire letter breathes Paul’s radiant joy and serene happiness in Christ, even while in prison and in danger of death. Given all of this, as a prisoner of Christ Jesus on behalf of the Gentiles, [2] Paul writes, “Have no anxiety about anything.”
In an Age of Anxiety
Perhaps it is not for us to know, but I want to know. Perhaps it is not for us to understand, but I want to understand. Perhaps it is not for us to comprehend, but I want to comprehend. What I want to know, and what I want to understand, and what I want to comprehend is how the Apostle Paul—chained like a slave, imprisoned and awaiting trial—can write these words to the Philippians, “Have no anxiety about anything.” It is utterly astounding to me, for I suspect that we—on certain days, on an unconscious level, figuratively speaking—find ourselves suffocating, buried alive, so to speak…in an avalanche of apprehension. On occasion, if not chronically, you and I find ourselves gasping for air as—through the rubble of fear and stress—we search for serenity in an age of anxiety.
Robert Gerzon, a psychiatrist who resides and practices in Boston has pointed out that:
Anxiety can block our growth more effectively than anything else—more than poverty, illness, misfortune, or any environmental factor…anxiety affects the way we think…. Those of us who have been tormented by anxiety know that it often feels like a phantom stalking the inner recesses of the mind … All of us know what anxiety feels like, for we have all experienced it in some form. Anxiety is a generalized state of arousal in response to a perceived threat to our well-being. In its milder forms—which we often recognize as stress, tension, and worry—we find ourselves feeling vaguely hassled, irritated, or uptight. … When anxiety lurks malevolently in the background, we may feel vaguely uneasy, tense, or on edge. When anxiety is in full fire-breathing pursuit, it can induce the most heart-pounding terror we have ever experienced. [3]
You and I have been there. You and I have been buried in that avalanche of anxiety in the world in which we live, over-stimulated by greater expectations than we can handle. We have gasped for breath in this highly productive nation amidst enormous demands.
At times you and I face seemingly insurmountable problems in our individual lives, or we suffer immeasurable losses of precious people in our personal spheres, or we are confronted by dire circumstances and situations that seem to have no exit or solutions. And on those occasions we see that there is something in ourselves that makes peace a rare experience. And we discover that there is something in us that makes peace of mind an intangible . . . an allusive, evasive goal, never reached or—at least—seldom realized.
Then to our dismay, we hear Paul saying to the Philippians: “. . . have no anxiety about anything . . . in any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and want . . . I have learned, in whatever state I am, to be content.” [4] And we wonder how Paul can say, “Have no anxiety about anything.” What, pray tell, is his secret? Of course the initial answer is that Paul was a Sunday’s Child.
Born on the Sabbath Day
Last summer—in the months of July and August, concluding with Labor Day Sunday—I preached for us a six-part sermon series on Children of God, based on that old, well-known rhyme by which some have contended that the day of our child’s birth most assuredly determines our child’s nature:
Monday’s child is fair of face,
Tuesday’s child is full of grace
Wednesday’s child is full of woe,
Thursday’s child has far to go,
Friday’s child is loving and giving,
Saturday’s child has to work for a living,
But a child that’s born on the Sabbath day
is fair and wise and good and gay.
(Of course, gay in this context means joyous).
Today we complete the series on Children of God with our attention turned to the Apostle Paul, a Sunday’s Child who expresses joy in the midst of severe adversity and who rejoices even in the face of death. How can Paul be a Sunday’s Child—fair and wise and good and gay—who has no anxiety about anything?
Well, to tell the truth, I know we all know! In our most intuitive thought, we understand the same secret that the Apostle Paul had learned. I have learned the secret, declares Paul, of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and want. I can do all things in him (Christ) who strengthens me.
Aspects of the Secret
So what is the secret for peace of mind for Paul? How could he be a non-anxious presence in such devastating dilemmas and harrowing hardships? There are three aspects of his secret.
I.
The Lord Is at Hand
This verse, have no anxiety about anything, is preceded by part of the answer: the Lord is at hand. [5] Five words! Isn’t that a magnificent statement! A five-word affirmation of faith, which is empowering, uplifting, which ultimately provides us with the victory and conviction that carries us through this life as joyous Christians. What Paul is speaking of here is the empowering nearness of God in Christ. Nearer than breath, dearer than life, God resides with us in Jesus Christ, the very same Christ, whose birth each year we celebrate as the Messiah who comes to us as the Child of Bethlehem, the Immanuel: God with us, the One who by his Incarnation makes it perfectly clear to us that The Lord is at hand, nearer than breath, dearer than life.
The Apostle Paul had expanded upon this affirmation with even greater emphasis to the Romans: Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? . . . . No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. [6] Indeed, the Lord--from whom we cannot be separated--is at hand . . . .therefore, have no anxiety about anything . . . . . This is the first key to the secret Paul had learned, the secret we intuitive by faith understand as well.
II.
Think about These Things
The second admonition that Paul states here to the Philippians is: Think about these things. Beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. [7]
One of the great teachings on which many of us were nurtured came from Proverbs 23:7 (KJV): As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he. Of course, the very same is true for women: As a woman thinketh in her heart, so is she. We have to acknowledge along with Paul that our mind—which we have in Christ Jesus--is the master-weaver both of our inner garment of character and the outer garment of circumstance. . . as “a person thinketh in his or her heart” is so comprehensive a truth as to reach out to every condition and circumstance of our lives, our character being the complete sum of all our thoughts that are stayed on Christ. . . . . A noble and God-like character is not a thing of happen-stance or chance, but is the natural result of continued effort in right thinking, the effect of long-cherished association with God-like thought. [8] So, writes Paul, think about these things! Think about whatever is true and honorable and just and pure and lovely and gracious.
You know as well as I do, without being the least bit prudish or self-righteous, that you and I live in a profane world. I can ride the light transit trolley into Pittsburgh and back again or walk along Pittsburgh’s busy streets and hear people young and old alike using surprising vulgarity. It is a challenge for us to work in the market place, or study in our schools, or attend recreational events without profanity assaulting our ears. The Apostle Paul prescribes something quite different as a necessary part of the secret about peace of mind: namely, that we who keep our minds on Christ should think about what is pure and lovely, of what is excellent and worthy of praise.
We at Sunset Hills Presbyterian Church—both young and old, adult and children alike—know this aspect of the secret, for we spend our lives teaching children that which is true and pure and lovely: the stories of Jesus.
Tell me the stories of Jesus, I love to hear;
Things I would ask Him to tell me if He were near;
Scenes by the wayside, tales of the sea,
Stories of Jesus, tell them to me.
We at SHUP, keeping our mind on Christ, learned these stories of Jesus when we were children and then told these stories of Jesus to our children. If I were ever asked to point to a people who are the product of a mind set on Christ, whose conversation and behavior exemplify what is pure and just and true and lovely, I would point to you, the faithful people in this church, who perpetually think about these things.
III.
Rejoice in the Lord Always
There is a third part of the secret Paul learned: Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice! I rejoice in the Lord greatly. [9] The Lord of whom Paul is speaking here is the same Lord about whom he said to the Corinthians: For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified. [10]
It is the same Lord who is the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world. It is the same Lord who was dragged to a painful violence by brutes who had God at their mercy and made sport of him to their hearts’ content. It is the same Lord who, when the most awful moment had come, suffered the cloth of his mantle to be stripped from his wounds, the same Lord who felt the blows of the hammer and heard them resound upon the nails. Then the tree was raised, and it blocked the sun; the weight of his human flesh sagged beneath the riveting nails; and when his raging thirst had been quenched with vinegar, myrrh and gall, and when his nakedness glimmered in the sun, and when the shame of the poor butchered flesh reeked of pending death, when he had breathed his last, and when the razor-sharp spear pierced his side and his blood gushed out. . . . then, at that very moment, our sins were forgiven. [11]
We rejoice in the Lord always, for by the saving grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, we are redeemed, we are forgiven, we are washed whiter than snow, and we are joint heirs with Jesus. And that, my friends, is great cause for rejoicing, for that’s part of the secret that Paul learned and which we comprehend.
Conclusion
Paul’s secret -- our secret.
I met God in the morning
When my day was at its best,
And His presence came like sunrise,
Like a glory in my breast.
All day long the Presence lingered,
All day long He stayed with me,
And we sailed in perfect calmness
O’er a very troubled sea.
Other ships were blown and battered,
Other ships were sore distressed,
But the winds that seemed to drive them
Brought to us a peace and rest.
Then I thought of other mornings,
With a keen remorse of mind,
When I too had loosed the moorings,
With the Presence left behind.
So I think I know the secret,
Learned from many a troubled way;
You must seek Him in the morning
If you want Him through the day! [12]
Paul’s secret: The Lord is at hand; think about these things; rejoice in the Lord always. Little wonder Paul was a Sunday’s Child, fair and wise and good and gay.
Paul’s peace can become our peace. . . if we will only make Paul’s secret our secret:
Have no anxiety about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, will keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.
So it is! And so it ever will be!
g g g
Notes
[1] II Corinthians 11:22-28
[2] Ephesians 3:1
[3] Robert Gerzon, Finding Serenity in the Age of Anxiety, excerpts from chapter 1
[4] Philippians 4: 12, 11
[5] Philippians 4:5
[6] Romans 8:35-39
[7] Philippians 4:8
[8] See James Allen, As a Man Thinketh
[9] Philippians 4: 4, 10
[10] I Corinthians 2:2
[11] I am indebted to François Mauriac; some of the phrases in this paragraph come from his book
titled Life of Jesus.
[12] Ralph Spaulding Cushman, The Secret, 1879
