“There is nothing new under the sun.” So begins the speaker of Ecclesiastes, and his refrain is certainly true in the history of philosophy, ancient or modern.
Stoicism, a philosophical school focused on maximizing self-control as the way to achieve inner peace, is on the rise once again. Organizations as diverse as The Gospel Coalition and The New York Times have noted this trend, especially among young men disillusioned and frustrated by the world.
Like most other errors, Stoicism has emotional and practical appeal precisely because it comes close to a biblical truth. Stoicism taps into the real virtue of contentment. After all, who wouldn’t want to be unflappable in the face of circumstances, patient when faced with setbacks, able to maintain his or her compass when life seems to be spinning?
Even the apostle Paul initially sounds like he’s endorsing Stoic thought in Philippians 4 when he talks about contentment “in any and every circumstance” (v. 12). A closer reading, however, shows that, far from endorsing Stoicism, Paul undermines it, declaring that the gospel of Jesus Christ offers a better answer to life’s problems and challenges.
Paul’s Surprising Word Choice
In Philippians 4, Paul at first blush seems to endorse the Stoic approach. Writing in Greek, he uses a term that dates back at least to Plato and Aristotle: the verb arkēo, which means to be satisfied. He writes, “Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned, in whatever situation I am, to be content” (v. 11).
Stoicism has emotional and practical appeal precisely because it comes close to a biblical truth.
Arkēo is almost easiest to define by its opposite. The Septuagint uses it in Proverbs 30:15: “The leech has two daughters, give and give. Three things are never satisfied, four never say ‘Enough.’” So to be content means the opposite, to say, “There is enough. I am satisfied.” Then Paul adds a prefix to the word. He adds the word autos, meaning “self,” using the combination as an adjective—content in myself, self-satisfied.
The adjectival form, autarkēs, was a favorite of the Stoic philosophers who preceded Paul. For them, autarkēs was the essence of all virtue: admitting what you couldn’t control and therefore focusing only on handling what came on you, not letting it rattle you. It was both a passivity in response to the waves of circumstance breaking on you and a resulting impassivity in emotion. Virtue was focusing only on what you can control and letting rational thought prevail over emotions such as fear, anxiety, and desire.
Where Stoicism Fails
Epictetus, a Stoic philosopher writing after roughly 50 years after Paul, is often paraphrased as saying, “The essence of philosophy is that man should so live that his happiness shall depend as little as possible on external things.” While this exact statement cannot be found in his Discourses, it accurately reflects his teaching. At least to educated readers of Paul’s letter, then, Paul’s use of autarkēs would be stunning: “Wait, what? Is Paul endorsing this pagan philosophy as correct?”
Quite the opposite. Paul’s use of autarkēs highlights precisely where Stoicism fails. Consider the broader context of Philippians 4:10–13:
I rejoiced in the Lord greatly that now at length you have revived your concern for me. You were indeed concerned for me, but you had no opportunity. Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned, in whatever situation I am, to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.
Paul is content but hardly unemotional and impassive. In verse 10, he rejoices greatly at having received material support. This is no lack of emotion, and the financial support he receives from the Philippians does make him happy. Contrary to Epictetus’s summary of Stoicism, Paul rejoices when he has plenty.
Biblical contentment isn’t equivalent to Stoic impassivity. Instead, true contentment is compatible with our emotions. We see this when Paul also says he remains content when he has little, even in hunger and need.
Locus of Contentment
What’s the difference between Paul and the Stoics? The crucial distinction is the locus of contentment. Notice the self-focus in Stoic contentment—the idea that I, myself, by power of my will and my rational thought, will overcome all emotions and all circumstances and remain solid and unflappable.
Biblical contentment isn’t equivalent to Stoic impassivity. Instead, true contentment is compatible with our emotions.
Such self-sourced contentment will inevitably fail. We can make it a long way with that philosophy, especially if we have high willpower. We can go even further if we’ve never spent much time cultivating our emotional self, so that we make rationality a safe haven. And we can especially make it a long time while life’s challenges, however hard, remain the normal waves of the sea.
But sooner or later, a tidal wave hits. And even if we’ve made ourselves a bulwark, a jetty, an impassive fortress against life, we ultimately aren’t sufficient to sustain ourselves when the wave gets big enough: a diagnosis, a complete fracturing of family, the implosion of our finances. If nothing else, when the wave is death itself and then meeting God, Stoicism will give out.
Trust in God, Not Self
In verse 13, Paul provides something radically different than the Stoicism of his day—or ours. Paul suggests no trust in self at all. He suggests trust in God. Paul isn’t content because he’s self-sufficient and independent. He’s content because he knows God, on whom he’s completely dependent, and because he knows that God is all-powerful and good.
“I can do all things through him who strengthens me.” Far from a self-reliance, the self-focused autarkēs of the Stoics, Paul’s talking about an outward reliance, a God-focused autarkēs. And that means he can trust God, even when the waves of life are towering tidal waves.
Christian contentment is entirely different from Stoicism. Our trust that we can handle whatever may come isn’t because we know and trust ourselves. At the root, we’re fearful and greedy balls of mess. We trust that we can handle whatever may come because we know and trust God.
The Gospel Coalition