Philippians Part 5: To live is Christ
What makes Christianity worth it?
That question may sound strange at first, but Philippians 3 forces us to consider it. Following Jesus calls us to surrender our confidence in ourselves. It changes our priorities. It may cost us comfort, relationships, opportunities, status, or things we once considered essential to a good life. So what could possibly be worth all of that? Paul's answer is simple: Jesus Christ Himself.
In Philippians 3, Paul looks at everything he once considered valuable and says that compared to knowing Christ, it all belongs in the loss column. He had discovered something infinitely more valuable than religious achievement, worldly success, or personal righteousness: he had gained Christ. And because of that, Paul begins with a command that sets the tone for everything that follows: “Rejoice in the Lord.”
A Joy the World Cannot Give
We often use joy and happiness interchangeably, but Christian joy goes deeper than simply feeling happy about our circumstances.
Paul isn't telling Christians to pretend everything is wonderful. He is telling us where our joy is found: in the Lord.
Christian joy is the fruit of the Holy Spirit at work within God's people. It produces contentment, gladness, and thanksgiving as we remember who God is and what He has done. Because the object of our joy is Christ rather than our circumstances, our joy has an anchor outside of whatever kind of day, week, or season we're experiencing.
That doesn't mean Christians always feel joyful. There are days when grief is real, circumstances are painful, and happiness feels very far away. But our reason for rejoicing remains.
Christ has not changed.
The gospel has not changed.
God's promises have not changed.
That's also why Paul says he isn't bothered by reminding the Philippians of truths they have heard before. We don't outgrow the gospel. We don't need a new Jesus, a new message, or some exciting new doctrine. We need to continually return to the truth God has already given us. His Word renews our minds and reminds us again and again where our confidence belongs.
Put No Confidence in the Flesh
That becomes especially important because Paul immediately warns the Philippians about people who were teaching that faith in Jesus wasn't enough.
The Judaizers wanted to add obedience to the law, particularly circumcision, as a requirement for salvation. In other words, Jesus plus something else.
Paul's response is strong because the gospel is at stake.
Our confidence before God cannot rest in religious performance, heritage, morality, church attendance, baptism, generosity, theological knowledge, or anything else we can accomplish.
Our confidence must be in Christ alone.
That warning still matters because self-righteousness is incredibly sneaky.
We may never say, “God accepts me because I'm better than other people,” but we can certainly live that way. We can sing praises to God on Sunday and then spend the rest of the week comparing ourselves to everyone around us. We notice their failures while minimizing our own. We look at someone else's sin and quietly reassure ourselves, “At least I'm not like them.”
Before long, instead of glorying in Christ, we begin finding confidence in ourselves.
The gospel tears that kind of thinking apart.
We don't stand before God because we're better than the person beside us. We stand because Jesus Christ is righteous and we have received His righteousness through faith.
When Your Résumé Can't Save You
If anyone could have argued that his religious résumé made him acceptable to God, it was Paul.
He had the right heritage. He had been circumcised according to the law. He was an Israelite, a Pharisee, zealous for the law, and by outward standards could describe himself as blameless. If religious achievement could make someone righteous before God, Paul had as strong a case as anyone.
And Paul says it wasn't enough.
That's because the law cannot make a sinner righteous. It can reveal our sin, but it cannot erase it.
Our justification has to come from somewhere outside of ourselves.
The good news of the gospel is that Jesus was delivered up for our sins and raised for our justification. Through faith in Him, sinners are declared righteous and given peace with God. Our confidence is no longer in what we can do for God but in what Christ has done for us.
And then Paul takes it even further.
Move Everything to the Loss Column
Paul writes:
“Whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ.”
Then he expands it:
“Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.”
Paul isn't merely saying Jesus is one good thing among many other good things.
He's saying that when Christ is placed on one side of the scale, nothing else can compete.
Before meeting Jesus, Paul had invested his life in accumulating gains: reputation, religious achievement, status, influence. Then he met the risen Christ on the road to Damascus, and suddenly everything moved to the other side of the ledger.
That raises some uncomfortable questions for us.
What is still sitting in our “gain” column?
Do I value my plans so highly that I have little time for God or His people? Do I value financial security so much that generosity becomes frightening? Do I value comfort so much that I avoid relationships that might require something from me? Am I willing to follow Jesus as long as He doesn't interfere too much with the life I've already planned?
Those aren't comfortable questions, but we shouldn't avoid them.
Paul had actually lost the things he once treasured. He was writing these words from prison. His former status and influence were gone, and yet he could still say that knowing Christ was worth infinitely more.
So what are we afraid to lose for Christ?
More Than Acquitted
Why is being “found in Christ” so valuable?
Because in Christ, God does something extraordinary with guilty sinners.
First, we are justified. The Judge declares us righteous, not because of our righteousness, but because of Christ's. Our sin is forgiven and His righteousness is credited to us through faith.
But our relationship with God doesn't end in a courtroom.
The Judge becomes our Father.
Through Christ we are adopted into God's family. We are no longer merely forgiven lawbreakers; we are sons and daughters who can approach God and cry, “Abba! Father!”
Think about how remarkable that is.
Christianity doesn't merely offer the removal of guilt. It offers relationship with God Himself.
The greatest treasure of salvation isn't simply escaping judgment or receiving eternal life. The treasure is God.
We get Christ.
We know Him.
We belong to Him.
And He brings us to the Father.
That I May Know Him
Paul eventually brings everything to this desire:
“That I may know Him.”
He wants to know Christ and the power of His resurrection, even sharing in His sufferings and becoming like Him in His death.
Knowing Jesus means our lives increasingly take the shape of His.
Jesus humbled Himself. He became a servant. He surrendered Himself in obedience to the Father, even to the point of death.
Following Him means learning to die to ourselves too. Our comfort doesn't have the final word. Our ambitions don't have the final word. Our preferences don't have the final word.
Jesus does.
That's also why last week's baptisms were such a beautiful picture of what Paul is describing. Going beneath the water pictured being buried with Christ; rising from it pictured new life in Him. Those who were baptized publicly declared that the old life no longer has the final claim on them. They belong to Jesus now.
And in one sense, that declaration belongs to every Christian:
My life is Christ's.
So rejoice in the Lord.
Put no confidence in the flesh.
Stop trying to build a résumé impressive enough for God.
Count everything else as loss compared with the surpassing worth of knowing Jesus Christ.
Because when everything else is stripped away, the Christian still possesses the one treasure that can never be taken away:
Christ Himself.
Reflection Questions
Paul commands us to “rejoice in the Lord.” What is the difference between finding joy in Christ and simply feeling happy because circumstances are going well?
Where are you most tempted to place confidence in your own “flesh”—morality, knowledge, church involvement, reputation, accomplishments, or something else?
Do you ever measure your righteousness by comparing yourself to other people? What does the gospel reveal about that kind of thinking?
Paul had an impressive religious résumé but counted it worthless as a basis for righteousness. What accomplishments or identities are you tempted to rely upon for your sense of worth?
If you divided your life into a “gain” column and a “loss” column, what things would you have difficulty
