Whatsoever Things are Honest

What does it mean in Phil. 4:8 to think on things that are honest? I completely understand what it means to BE honest, but to think on things that are honest? I looked up the meaning and other words to describe it are grave or noble. Think on those things.

For a better understanding, consider the opposite of honest/grave/noble. Wouldn’t that be thoughts that are lies and things that cause the mind to dwell in muck and mire? In that case, we can take just about anything the world puts out there as something that doesn’t lead to honest/grave/noble thoughts. Upstanding might be a good word to describe what it means to think on things that are honest. What isn’t upstanding? For starters, how about songs with ungodly words, ideas and suggestions. Or trashy books, magazines, movies, videos, and TV shows? If the goal is to steer our minds away from ignoble thoughts, then our eye- and ear-gates may need new material.

I think in our age, we are so sedated and numb with the din of these influences—and those around us who are talking about them—that we don’t realize how we are holding ourselves down spiritually.

But the verse doesn’t say what not to think about. It says to think about honest things. That means replacing the dishonorable dwelling thoughts with upstanding, profitable thoughts.

I surely have one example from my life. I walk 3 miles each morning, and in less-than-ideal weather, I’m on the treadmill. To keep my mind off the repetition of walking, I watch recorded TV programs. What if I chose to do something more noble and honest with my mind? A better plan might be to listen to a recorded sermon or a good Christian book on tape. In fact, I started one today. That is more honest of a thing to ponder than the TV programs, which are simply worldly fluff. I want better thoughts, leading to better ideas and behaviors. I want to think noble so I act noble. Is anyone with me?

Here’s an old poem that paints a pretty good picture of what we’re talking about.

  I have three tame ducks in my back yard,
  Who wallow in the mud, and try real hard
  To get their share and even more
  of the overflowing backyard store.
  They're fairly content with the task they're at
  Of eating and sleeping and getting fat.
  But when the wild ducks fly by
  In a streaming line across the sky,
  They cast a wishful and quizzical eye
  And flap their wings and attempt to fly.
  I think my soul is a tame old duck
  Wallowing around in the barnyard muck,
  It's fat and lazy with useless wings
  But, once in awhile when the north wind sings
  And the wild ducks hurtle overhead
  It remembers something lost and almost dead,
  And it casts a wistful eye
  And flaps its wings and tries to fly.
  It's fairly content with the state that it's in
  But it isn't the duck that it might have been!

(Author unknown)

Jody