And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ—to the glory and praise of God. (Philippians 1:9-11)

Just as Paul gave two words of thanks, so he gives two petitions at the end of his opening words of thanksgiving. That fact makes me wonder how balanced my prayers are—am I just as full of thanks to God as I am of requests to him? Being thankful can be spontaneous, sure, but it is also a disciplined habit of faith: to learn to give thanks and to search for the good that can be given thanks for in all situations. In fact, in the long run, I think this is the only way to remain a person of gratitude and generosity, by intentionally searching out just how much of our lives are given us and not earned—how much of our lives are gifts from God for which we can give thanks.

But here Paul moves on to requests. The first of them is that “your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight so that you might be able to discern what is best.” Paul joins two seemingly contradictory things here in this petition. Love and knowledge. Heart and mind. There are a few culture war battle lines in the church that are (seemingly) drawn directly between these two worlds of the heart and the mind. A side of “you don’t love correctly” shouts out at a side of “you don’t know correctly,” which gladly shouts back.

Perhaps this is why it’s a prayer and not a given: Paul prays, knowing that we tend to split these two things apart and fight each other over the space between. But Paul also prays, knowing that both are required to “be able to discern what is best.” When either heart or mind are flattened or squeezed out of the conversation, the church is impoverished. We need both. We need each other. All the gifts of the body of Christ have their place.

The second petition is that you “may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ—to the glory and praise of God.” This one is interesting. Paul prays for things that seemingly come simply by God’s doing anyway. That the Philippians be pure and blameless: are they doing it, or is God? That they are filled with fruit—does Jesus fill them with this fruit, or do they have to cultivate it? Is fruitfulness a natural implication of life in Christ without any extra effort on our part, or do we have some role to play?

This petition echoes with something Paul already said. There is a trust that “he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” God will do it, but it is not yet done—the day of Christ has not yet arrived. So in this interim time between the beginning of God’s work and its completion in the day of Christ, Paul joins his prayer to the work and will of God. It’s a way of praying “your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” In the very same way, we are still invited to work and live into these fruitful gifts of God—recognizing that it is always God working in us and not our own doing, but also that we have a calling to join and participate in this good work until that day of Christ Jesus.

Because the emphasis does finally fall on God’s accomplishment though, there’s no reason to fall into despair or cynicism when it seems like sin, evil, and the grief of this world have the upper hand—whether in us, our families, or in our church—because God is nevertheless, still at work. And God will see it done. The day of Christ Jesus is coming. So until that day, let these verses also be our work and prayer.