Jeremiah Burroughs: How Christ Teaches Contentment from The Rare Jewell of Christian Contentmen

About the Author

Jeremiah Burroughs (1599-1646), an English non-conformist preacher who spent four years in exile in Holland and later returned to London where he ministered faithfully in two notable congregations there. He was well-known and respected by his congregants and fellow ministers alike. He was a prolific writer and well-esteemed among his contemporaries, but he is perhaps best known today for his superb treatise on Philippians 4:11 entitled The Rare Jewel of Christian Contentment. His great heart’s desire was to see peace and unity among differing congregations of Christians, and in this regard, he is also known for his conciliatory work as one of the divines on the Assembly that produced the Westminster Confession (completed just after his death). His life is summed up in the following sentiment: “He was a man of learning, candor, and modesty; in his life irreproachable, and highly exemplary.” Most of his works were published by friends after his death.

How Christ Teaches Contentment

from The Rare Jewel of Christian Contentment

by Jeremiah Burroughs

"Not that I speak in respect of want: for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am,
therewith to be content." (Philippians 4:11)

Contentment is not such a poor business as many make it. They say, 'You must be content', and so on. But Paul needed to learn it, and it is a great art and mystery of godliness to be content in a Christian way. “I have learned to be contented”: what lessons have you learned? A scholar who has great learning and understanding in arts and sciences began, as we say, with his ABC's. So a Christian coming to contentment is as a scholar in Christ's school, and there are many lessons to teach the soul to bring it to this learning. It cannot be said of any Christian that he is illiterate, but he is literate, a learned man, a learned woman. One lesson that Christ teaches to bring us to contentment is this: THE CONTENTED SOUL HAS COME TO UNDERSTAND IN WHAT RELATION IT STANDS TO THE WORLD.

By that I mean that God comes to instruct the soul effectually through Christ by His Spirit, on what terms it lives here in the world, in what relation it stands. While I live in the world, my condition is to be but a pilgrim, a stranger, a traveler, and a soldier. Now rightly to understand this is not only to be taught it by rote so that I can speak the words over, but it is to have my soul is possessed with the consideration of this truth: that God has set me in this world, not as in my home but as a mere stranger and a pilgrim who is traveling to another home, and that I am here a soldier in my warfare. I say that a right understanding of this is a mighty help to contentment in whatever befalls one.

For instance, when one is at home, if things are not according to his desire, he will find fault and is not content; but if he travels, perhaps he does not meet with conveniences as he desires. The servants in the house are not at his beck and call, or are not as diligent as his own servants were, and his diet is not as at home, and his bed not as at home – yet this thought may moderate his spirit: I am a traveler and I must not be finding fault; I am in someone else’s house, and it would be bad manners to find fault there, even though things are not as much to my liking as at home.

If one meets with bad weather, he must be content; it is “travelers' fare,” we say. Both fair weather and foul are the common travelers' fare and we must be content with it. Of course, if he were at home and the rain poured into his house, he would regard it as an intolerable hardship; but when he is traveling, he is not so troubled about rain and storms. When you are at sea, though you have not as many things as you have at home, you are not troubled at it; you are contented. Why? Because you are at sea.

You are not troubled when storms arise, and though many things are otherwise than you would have them at home you are still quieted with the fact that you are at sea. When sailors are at sea they do not care what clothes they have, though they are pitched and tarred, and but a tattered cloth about their necks, and any old clothes. They think that when they come home, then they shall have their fine silk stockings and suits, and laced bands, and such things, and shall be very fine. So they are contented while away, with the thought that it shall be different when they come home, and though they have nothing but salt meat, and a little hard bread, yet when they come to their houses then they shall have anything.

Thus it should be with us in this world, for the truth is, we are all in this world but as seafaring men, tossed up and down on the waves of the sea of this world, and our haven is Heaven; here we are traveling, and our home is a distant home in another world. Though we meet with travelers' fare sometimes, yet it should not be grievous to us. The Scripture tells us plainly that we must behave ourselves here as pilgrims and strangers: “Dearly beloved, I beseech you as strangers and pilgrims, abstain from fleshly lusts, which war against the soul” (1 Peter 2:11).

Consider what your condition is. You are pilgrims and strangers, so do not think to satisfy yourselves here. When one comes into an inn and sees there a fair cupboard of plate, he is not troubled that it is not his own. Why? Because he is going away. So let us not be troubled when we see that others have great wealth, but we have not. Why? We are going away to another country; lodging here, as it were, only for a night. If you were to live a hundred years, in comparison to eternity it is not as much as a night; it is as though you were traveling, and had come to an inn. And what madness is it for one to be discontented because he does not have what he sees there, seeing he may be going away again within less than a quarter of an hour? You find the same in David: this was the argument that took David's heart away from the things of this world, and set him on other things: “I am a stranger in the earth, hide not thy commandments from me” (Psalm 119:19). I am a stranger in the earth – what then? Then, Lord, let me have the knowledge of your commandments and it is sufficient! As for the things of the earth I do not set store by them, whether I have much or little, but hide not thy commandments from me, Lord, let me know the rule that I should guide my life by.

Then again, we are not only travelers but soldiers: this is the condition in which we are here in this world, and therefore we ought to behave ourselves accordingly. The Apostle makes use of this argument in writing to Timothy: “Thou therefore endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ” (2 Timothy 2:3).

The very thought of the condition of a soldier is enough to still his disquiet of heart. When he is away, he does not enjoy such comforts in his quarters as he has in his own home. Perhaps a person who had his bed and curtains drawn about him, and all comforts in his chamber, has now sometimes to lie on straw and he thinks to himself, “I am a soldier and it is suitable to my condition.” He must have his bed warmed at home, but he must lie out in the fields when he is a soldier, and the very thought of the condition in which he stands calms him in all things. Yes, and he goes rejoicing to think that this is only suitable to the condition in which God has put him. So it should be with us in respect of this world. What an unseemly thing it would be to see a soldier go whining up and down with his finger in his eye, complaining, that he does not have hot meat every meal, and his bed warmed as he did at home! Now Christians know that they are in their warfare, they are here in this world fighting and combating with the enemies of their souls and their eternal welfare, and they must be willing to endure hardness here. A right understanding of this fact that God has put them into such a condition is what will make them content, especially when they consider that they are certain of the victory and that ere long they shall triumph with Jesus Christ; then all their sorrows shall be done away, and their tears wiped from their eyes. A soldier is content to endure hardness though he does not know that he shall have the victory, but a Christian knows himself to be a soldier, and knows that he shall conquer and triumph with Jesus Christ to all eternity.



	About the Author Jeremiah Burroughs (1599-1646), an English non-conformist preacher who spent four years in exile in Holland and later returned to London where he ministered faithfully in two notable congregations there. He was well-known and respected by his congregants and fellow ministers alike. He was a prolific writer and well-esteemed among his contemporaries, but he is perhaps best known today for his superb treatise on Philippians 4:11 entitled The Rare Jewel of Christian Contentment. His great heart’s desire was to see peace and unity among differing congregations of Christians, and in this regard, he is also known for his conciliatory work as one of the divines on the Assembly that produced the Westminster Confession (completed just after his death). His life is summed up in the following sentiment: “He was a man of learning, candor, and modesty; in his life irreproachable, and highly exemplary.” Most of his works were published by friends after his death. How Christ Teaches Contentment from The Rare Jewel of Christian Contentment by Jeremiah Burroughs "Not that I speak in respect of want: for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content." (Philippians 4:11) Contentment is not such a poor business as many make it. They say, 'You must be content', and so on. But Paul needed to learn it, and it is a great art and mystery of godliness to be content in a Christian way. “I have learned to be contented”: what lessons have you learned? A scholar who has great learning and understanding in arts and sciences began, as we say, with his ABC's. So a Christian coming to contentment is as a scholar in Christ's school, and there are many lessons to teach the soul to bring it to this learning. It cannot be said of any Christian that he is illiterate, but he is literate, a learned man, a learned woman. One lesson that Christ teaches to bring us to contentment is this: THE CONTENTED SOUL HAS COME TO UNDERSTAND IN WHAT RELATION IT STANDS TO THE WORLD. By that I mean that God comes to instruct the soul effectually through Christ by His Spirit, on what terms it lives here in the world, in what relation it stands. While I live in the world, my condition is to be but a pilgrim, a stranger, a traveler, and a soldier. Now rightly to understand this is not only to be taught it by rote so that I can speak the words over, but it is to have my soul is possessed with the consideration of this truth: that God has set me in this world, not as in my home but as a mere stranger and a pilgrim who is traveling to another home, and that I am here a soldier in my warfare. I say that a right understanding of this is a mighty help to contentment in whatever befalls one. For instance, when one is at home, if things are not according to his desire, he will find fault and is not content; but if he travels, perhaps he does not meet with conveniences as he desires. The servants in the house are not at his beck and call, or are not as diligent as his own servants were, and his diet is not as at home, and his bed not as at home – yet this thought may moderate his spirit: I am a traveler and I must not be finding fault; I am in someone else’s house, and it would be bad manners to find fault there, even though things are not as much to my liking as at home. If one meets with bad weather, he must be content; it is “travelers' fare,” we say. Both fair weather and foul are the common travelers' fare and we must be content with it. Of course, if he were at home and the rain poured into his house, he would regard it as an intolerable hardship; but when he is traveling, he is not so troubled about rain and storms. When you are at sea, though you have not as many things as you have at home, you are not troubled at it; you are contented. Why? Because you are at sea. You are not troubled when storms arise, and though many things are otherwise than you would have them at home you are still quieted with the fact that you are at sea. When sailors are at sea they do not care what clothes they have, though they are pitched and tarred, and but a tattered cloth about their necks, and any old clothes. They think that when they come home, then they shall have their fine silk stockings and suits, and laced bands, and such things, and shall be very fine. So they are contented while away, with the thought that it shall be different when they come home, and though they have nothing but salt meat, and a little hard bread, yet when they come to their houses then they shall have anything. Thus it should be with us in this world, for the truth is, we are all in this world but as seafaring men, tossed up and down on the waves of the sea of this world, and our haven is Heaven; here we are traveling, and our home is a distant home in another world. Though we meet with travelers' fare sometimes, yet it should not be grievous to us. The Scripture tells us plainly that we must behave ourselves here as pilgrims and strangers: “Dearly beloved, I beseech you as strangers and pilgrims, abstain from fleshly lusts, which war against the soul” (1 Peter 2:11). Consider what your condition is. You are pilgrims and strangers, so do not think to satisfy yourselves here. When one comes into an inn and sees there a fair cupboard of plate, he is not troubled that it is not his own. Why? Because he is going away. So let us not be troubled when we see that others have great wealth, but we have not. Why? We are going away to another country; lodging here, as it were, only for a night. If you were to live a hundred years, in comparison to eternity it is not as much as a night; it is as though you were traveling, and had come to an inn. And what madness is it for one to be discontented because he does not have what he sees there, seeing he may be going away again within less than a quarter of an hour? You find the same in David: this was the argument that took David's heart away from the things of this world, and set him on other things: “I am a stranger in the earth, hide not thy commandments from me” (Psalm 119:19). I am a stranger in the earth – what then? Then, Lord, let me have the knowledge of your commandments and it is sufficient! As for the things of the earth I do not set store by them, whether I have much or little, but hide not thy commandments from me, Lord, let me know the rule that I should guide my life by. Then again, we are not only travelers but soldiers: this is the condition in which we are here in this world, and therefore we ought to behave ourselves accordingly. The Apostle makes use of this argument in writing to Timothy: “Thou therefore endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ” (2 Timothy 2:3). The very thought of the condition of a soldier is enough to still his disquiet of heart. When he is away, he does not enjoy such comforts in his quarters as he has in his own home. Perhaps a person who had his bed and curtains drawn about him, and all comforts in his chamber, has now sometimes to lie on straw and he thinks to himself, “I am a soldier and it is suitable to my condition.” He must have his bed warmed at home, but he must lie out in the fields when he is a soldier, and the very thought of the condition in which he stands calms him in all things. Yes, and he goes rejoicing to think that this is only suitable to the condition in which God has put him. So it should be with us in respect of this world. What an unseemly thing it would be to see a soldier go whining up and down with his finger in his eye, complaining, that he does not have hot meat every meal, and his bed warmed as he did at home! Now Christians know that they are in their warfare, they are here in this world fighting and combating with the enemies of their souls and their eternal welfare, and they must be willing to endure hardness here. A right understanding of this fact that God has put them into such a condition is what will make them content, especially when they consider that they are certain of the victory and that ere long they shall triumph with Jesus Christ; then all their sorrows shall be done away, and their tears wiped from their eyes. A soldier is content to endure hardness though he does not know that he shall have the victory, but a Christian knows himself to be a soldier, and knows that he shall conquer and triumph with Jesus Christ to all eternity.