Monday, March 18, 2013

Philippians 3:8-14 Sermon


the fifth sunday in lent

Shepherd of the Hills Ev. Lutheran Church (WELS)

Cast Off Your Credentials

Philippians 3:8-14

8 What is more, I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them garbage, that I may gain Christ 9 and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ—the righteousness that comes from God on the basis of faith. 10 I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of his resurrection and participation in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, 11 and so, somehow, attaining to the resurrection from the dead. 12 Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. 13 Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, 14 I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. (NIV)

Have you ever heard another preacher preach, a friend rant and rave about her pastor, or paged through a great read written by a pastor and found yourself wondering, “What if we had a pastor like so-and so?”  According to certain standards, I will acknowledge that my track record isn’t really anything to get terribly excited about.  I am not a published author with scores of titles that are consistently best sellers – for that matter, I don’t even need a hand to count the number of books I’ve published.  I am not a keynote speaker who draws hundreds or thousands to ministry conferences on growing your church or changing the world.  I don’t have a thriving radio ministry or internet presence or thousands of followers on Twitter or anywhere else that would grant me celebrity-like status in the church world.  And, I’m absolutely positive that my name was not even considered during this week’s election of the next pope.  Face it, there just isn’t much in my track record about which to “ooohhh” and “aaahhh.”

But the same could not have been said for the apostle Paul.  Listen to what he said about himself in the verses immediately preceding the ones we heard in our Second Lesson this morning. “If anyone thinks he has reasons to put confidence in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; in regard to the law, a Pharisee; as for zeal, persecuting the church; as for legalistic righteousness, faultless” (3:4b-6).  Now as far as religious leaders of the day went, Paul was someone to get excited about.  Paul’s pedigree was outstanding.  He was born into the right family.  He had done the right things.  In fact, so well-known and established was Paul that the mention of his name struck terror into the lives of Christians early on because of his relentless religious drive to persecute the Christian faith.  His religious reputation was beyond commendable by the standards of the religious leaders of his day.

And that makes what he wrote next stand out all the more.  As much as Paul had the reputation, as much as the credentials were there, what was his view of them after coming to faith in Jesus Christ?  “What is more, I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them garbage” (v.8).  What formerly he had prized, presently he despised.  Paul had poured a lot of blood, sweat, and tears into acquiring all of his religious merit badges.  He took his religion about as seriously as anyone could.  But now everything that he considered valuable in that department he was ready to take to the spiritual dumpster.  All of it was nothing but trash.

So what brought about the drastic change in Paul’s life?  How does one’s view of what is valuable change so drastically in so short a time?  What would cause a painter who had spent years honing his skills to just up and decide never to pick up a brush again, and on top of it, to trash all of his past paintings?  Why would a grammy-winning, concert sell-out, top-selling-album singer decide never to sing another note professionally, and quit selling every single song she’s ever sung?  What would it take for a championship-winning professional athlete who has spent his life practicing, weight training, and eating right in order to fine-tune his game to suddenly walk away from the sport completely?  That was essentially what Paul was doing by walking away from everything that mattered most to him in his life.  Why?

He already revealed the answer, didn’t he?  It was wrapped up in his renunciation of his own righteousness: “What is more, I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them garbage” (v.8).  Paul was ready to give up his pristine past because he had a much better offer in Christ.  His law-based life of the past had zero value compared to forgiveness-full future in Christ.  For Paul, it wasn’t about what he was giving up, but about what he was gaining.

What a needed reminder for us!  Doesn’t that sum up so well our lives in Christ Jesus?  It’s not about what we’re giving up, but about what we’re gaining.  How much easier would life be if we approached everything from that perspective?  How richly blessed would we be if we truly understood that life in Jesus is not about what we’re giving up, but about what we’re gaining?

Aren’t we much more accustomed to approaching our relationship with Jesus from the other angle?  Isn’t our default mode to first ask what we have to give up before we are committed?  “Alright, so I have to give up a few Sundays once in a while, write out a check here and there, sign up for this or that on occasion, and that should cover it, right?”  The problem is, if my entire relationship with Jesus is based on what I’m giving up for him, then how can I ever grow in my relationship with him?  Inevitably, when hardship and toil and struggle and more sacrifice come up because of my faith, I will always view my relationship with Jesus as a strain on all other aspects of life.  I will always perceive things to be unbalance – that I am giving up way more than I should have to in this relationship.  A misguided focus on what I have to give up will always lead to a view that sees Jesus as cramping my style and encroaching on my life, finally leading us to resent him.    

There’s also a dangerous extreme on the other end of the spectrum of basing our relationship with Jesus on what we’re giving up.  The other extreme is the open door which beckons us to base our confidence before God on how much we’re giving up.  Then, we inadvertently become what Paul once was, a Pharisee.  If it’s about what I’m giving up, then I resort again to self-righteousness.  I may do the right things, but for the wrong reason.  I go to church every Sunday and then some.  I don’t just read a few verses or chapters in the Bible daily – I read whole books at a time.  Everyone else talks about giving 10% – I give 20%.  I don’t just sign up to clean, but I do refreshments, flowers, and greet as well, looking for just a few more ways to volunteer so that I can complete my decathlon of self-righteousness. 

But here’s the thing: if we are unable to change the paradigm that determines our connection with Christ, that is, if we can’t start looking at it the other way around – what we’re gaining instead of what we’re giving up, then we set ourselves up for despair.  How?  Because there’s always something more that can be given up, isn’t there, and if there’s always something more, then at what point can I ever be sure I’ve given up enough?  There is no such point!  And until we realize that, we’ll try harder and harder, giving up more and more in different and more creative ways, but our conscience will never rest, always convincing us that we must give up just a little more.

How different it is when our attention is focused on what we’re gaining instead of what we’re giving up!  Then the question isn’t “what do I have to give up, but what did Christ give up so that I could gain?”  Paul knew he was getting in Christ what he could never gain in his old way of life: “not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ—the righteousness that comes from God on the basis of faith” (v.9).  The reason he counted his past way of life as rubbish was because the Holy Spirit opened his eyes to see it for what it was – worthless!  The only righteousness that counts is that which comes through Jesus Christ, because it’s the only genuine righteousness that exists.  Any other righteousness that is worked out on our own is incomplete, but Christ’s righteousness is perfect in every way.  His perfect obedience meant that every “I” was dotted and every “T was crossed.  And just as it was for Abraham and every believer since, that righteousness is received only by faith, not by our own merits.

Once you truly realize that it’s not about what you’re being asked to give up, but about what you gain in Christ, then something completely unexpected happens: you start to value things differently.  The things you thought were important in life are, well, not very important.  The things that you formerly figured were “must-haves” become “I-can-live-withouts.”  And it’s not just money or materialism we’re talking about – not just “stuff.”  Recognition doesn’t matter.  Worldly success seems trivial.  I become less of a miser with my time.  In short, everything changes when we realize it isn’t about what we’re giving up, but about what we’ve gained.

That Paul understands that truth is so clear from the final verses of our lesson.  It’s why he encouraged the Philippians to “press on” instead of “look back.”  It’s not about looking backward, but looking forward.  Paul hadn’t reached perfection, as some of his enemies in Philippi may have been falsely teaching he claimed to do, but he knew that what lie ahead was easily worth staying the course.  “Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus” (v.13b,14). 

Paul knew what a little old lady knew and expressed when she asked to be buried with her fork.  When the minister had heard her request, he thought it a bit odd, initially.  Then she explained to him that she always remembered as a little girl that when the ladies at church would come by to clear the plates from the tables after a potluck, they’d remind everyone, “Keep your fork.”  Why?  Because when the main meal was finished and the plates were cleared, that meant it was time for dessert.  “Keep your fork” meant that the best was yet to come.

We know it, too.  The best is yet to come.  Let this world have all that we’ve been asked to give up, including our own supposed self-righteousness.  Cast off your credentials, or as one Christian once put it, “Leave your resume behind,” because the world to come is only ours through the righteousness of Christ.  And that world – our home in heaven – is where we stand to gain the most.  Press on.  Keep your fork.  The best is yet to come.  Amen.

“For the freer confidence is from one’s own works, and the more exclusively it is directed toward Christ alone, so much better is the Christian it makes.” (Luther)

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