Philippians 3

4 though I myself have reason for confidence in the flesh also. If anyone else thinks he has reason for confidence in the flesh, I have more: 5 circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; 6 as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless. 7 But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. 8 Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order 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 comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith— 10 that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, 11 that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead.

I am intrigued by the late-12th/early-13th century Christian Francis of Assisi.

A lot of the world is intrigued by him as well. Francis was a wonderfully strange and fascinating man who tried to imitate the life of Jesus as literally as he could as he understood it.

He was born around 1181 and died on October 3, 1226. That he died in 1226 makes one particular painting of Francis very interesting indeed.

This particular portrait is situated “[i]n the Chapel of San Gregorio in the lower church at Subiaco” and is very likely dated before 1224 AD.[i] Others date the image to 1228–29. What that means is we very possibly have in this painting a fairly accurate depiction of what Francis actually looked like, as it was painted either before or very shortly after his death.

Francis grew up popular and loved and in affluent circumstances. He was not necessarily rich, as we would think of it, but probably something like upper middle class. His father, Pietro Bernardone dei Moriconi, was a hardworking and successful cloth merchant and businessman.

Francis was loved by his French mother, Pica di Bourlemont, and, apparently, by all who knew him. He was fun. He was the life of the party. And he was happy.

Then, Francis, along with the other men of the region, went to war in one of the local skirmishes of that area and time. He was imprisoned for a season and seemed to have returned a changed man.

He was troubled. He began to seek for God. And he grew discontent with who he was inside.

Francis said that he heard the voice of God telling him to rebuild His church. He took that to mean a literal rebuilding. So he took some of his father’s cloth, sold it, took the money, and tried to give it to the priest of a dilapidated little church.

His father was furious. Francis never asked his permission to take and sell the expensive cloth. His father essentially sued him and drug him before the bishop of Assisi, Bishop Guido. There, Francis acted out one of the most famous acts of renunciation in all of Christian history. There, before his father and the bishop and an onlooking crowd, Francis said that his father was no longer his father and that only God was his father. He removed his clothes before the shocked crowd and went out into the world to become the man we know him to be today.

As I say, it was a stunning act of renunciation. Why did he remove his clothes? It was not just to be dramatic. Rather, cloth, clothing, silks, and garments had defined not only Francis’ comfort but his old life. The family lived well off the sale of such clothes. So in removing them, Francis was saying that his old life was over. It was gone. Now he was going to live a new life, the life of Christ.

But he was saying something even deeper than that, really. He was also saying that he had changed in terms of what he valued, in terms of what mattered to him. What mattered to him now was Jesus and Jesus alone and he would spend his life to walk with Jesus.

Life begins when we throw away our resumes.

Paul tells the Philippians two things about himself in our text: (1) his Jewish credentials were impeccable and (2) he stopped caring about credentials when he finally, truly met Jesus.

To get the full import of what Paul is about to say, we need to remember what happened in verses 1–3. In those verses, Paul warned the Philippian believers against (almost certainly) the Judaizers, that group that had harassed the Galatians and the Corinthians and might, Paul, feared, try the same shenanigans with the Philippians. The Judaizers, let us recall, were Jewish followers of Jesus…at least so they said. In reality, the Judaizers did not believe that Jesus was enough. They argued, in fact, that in addition to Jesus, you needed to become a Jew. So, in their thinking, Gentile Christians would need—again, in addition to Jesus—to be circumcised and to keep kosher if they were to be truly saved.

Paul called these people “dogs” in verse 2 and warned against their overconfidence in the flesh, particularly, their overconfidence in their Jewishness. Let us remember that, in verse 3, Paul called the Gentile Philippians believers “the circumcision,” alluding, as we saw, to the idea he expressed in Romans that true circumcision is and always has been a matter of the heart, not of the flesh.

Now, in verse 4, Paul is going to make the point that if anybody had a right to have confidence in their flesh, in their credentials, in their resume, it was Paul. He is going to explain why. But it is also possible that in Paul’s listing of his own credentials he is also revealing something about the inferior boasting of the Judaizers. Consider:

4 though I myself have reason for confidence in the flesh also. If anyone else thinks he has reason for confidence in the flesh, I have more

That “also” in the first part of verse 4—“I myself have reason for confidence in the flesh also”—and that “anyone” and “he” in the second part of verse 4 establishes the fact that Paul is going to contrast his own credentials with those who seem to have inordinate pride in their fleshly standing: namely, the Judaizers. Paul intends, in other words, to one-up them. And he begins:

5 circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; 6 as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless.

First, the particulars of Paul’s resume of the flesh:

• He was circumcised.
• He was ethnically Jewish.
• He knew his family tribe: Benjamin.
• There was no question about his Jewishness: “a Hebrew of Hebrew.”
• He was concerned with purity and obedience: “at to the law, a Pharisee.”
• He abhorred what he saw as distortions of the faith: “as to zeal, a persecutor of the church.”
• He strove for righteousness as defined by adherence to the law: “as to righteousness under the law, blameless.”

My goodness! What a resume! Gordon Fee interestingly writes:

From a sociological point of view, what is reiterated here are items that indicate “status.” But the final two (and very likely, therefore, his being a Pharisee as well) indicate “achievement”; so the interest is not simply in what was given to him by birth, but in what he himself did so as rightly to be designated “a Hebrew of Hebrews.”[ii]

So that had to do with birth and with choice. Paul was a Jew who did it by the book!

If Paul intended this list as a contrast to the empty boasting and obsessions of the Judaizers with their Jewishness, it might reveal something interesting. His reference to being circumcised on “the eight day” and his highlighting of his being born a Jew and knowing his tribe may suggest that the Judaizers—these fanatics of the flesh—were actually comprised largely if not exclusively of converts to Judaism. Meaning, they were circumcised, but not on the eighth day. They were Jews, but not by birth or ethnicity. They could not name their family tribe. And this makes sense, for usually converts to a movement over-identify in an effort to validate their conversion.

This is an interesting idea, yet Paul’s primary argument does not depend upon it. Paul’s primary argument is this: If anybody had a right to be confident in their Jewishness, and if anybody could point to their credentials, and if anybody could show a resume that would silence the room, it was Paul!

It is as if Paul is saying, “The Judaizers want to talk about the flesh. Fine! Let us talk about the flesh! The Judaizers want to talk about being Jewish. Fine! Let us talk about being Jewish…” Then Paul pulls out his resume and—BAM!—slams it on the table.

All of this is what makes what he says next in verse 7 that much more dramatic. Ready? Watch:

7 But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ.

Oh my! What a move on Paul’s part! “Listen! I am more Jewish than any of these guys, but guess what?! When I met Jesus I tore my resume up and threw it away. I realized that my flesh and my birth and my circumstances availed me nothing! Why? Because I met somebody who could accomplish more than my birth and religion could ever accomplish…and his name is Jesus!”

In point of fact, Paul says that he counted the “gain” of his resume “as loss for the sake of Christ.”

Craig Keener points out that:

“Gain” (or “gains”—NIV; or “profit”—GNT) and “loss” are marketplace terms, like other terms later in the letter (4:10-20); Paul had to sacrifice all his former spiritual assets to follow Christ, who was what really mattered.[iii]

Here again we see the revaluation that Christ bring! What used to be a treasure now becomes loss! Why? Because, compared to Jesus all of our accomplishments are just garbage! Jesus changes the price tags in life. What you used to value now has no value and what you used to despise is now the most precious thing in life!

Are you proud of your resume? Of what you have accomplished? Of who you are?

When you see Jesus—really see Jesus—you will tear that resume up! It will seem downright silly to you! All you will want is Jesus.

Jesus is a disruptive and incalculable treasure.

Jesus is the greater treasure, the greatest treasure! Paul, having leaned into his own resume, now tells us why Jesus is so much greater. He writes:

8 Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ

Loss.

Loss.

Rubbish.

That is what Paul thought of those things that he used to boast in. Now, he says, he treasures “the surpassing worth of knowing Jesus my Lord.”

What can compare?

9 and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith— 10 that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, 11 that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead.

Paul spells out the treasure of Jesus in even great detail. For Paul, the greatest treasure became:

• knowing Jesus as Lord;
• gaining Christ;
• receiving righteousness from and through Jesus;
• knowing the power of His resurrection;
• sharing in the sufferings of Jesus;
• dying with Jesus;
• being raised back to life with Jesus.

How do you view Jesus?

How do you view your own life?

How do you view your standing in life? Your social standing? Your possessions? Your credentials? Your accomplishments? Your resume? Your family name?

Do you think any of that will save you?

Tell me: Why do these things have the value they have to you? Why? Why do you treasure the flesh so much?

And how much do you value Jesus? How does Jesus compare to the treasures of your life?

Fred Craddock told the following story about a missionary to China.

A man was serving the church as a missionary in China. He was under house arrest, when soldiers finally came one day and said to him, “You Can Return to America.”

The family was celebrating, and the soldiers said, “You can take 200 pounds with you.”

Well, they had been there for years. Two hundred pounds. So they got out the scales, and started the family arguments: 2 children, wife, and husband. Must have this vase. Well, this new typewriter. What about my books? What about this? And they weighed everything and took it off and weighed this and took it off and weighed that and, finally, right on the dot, two hundred pounds.

The soldier asked, “Are you ready to go?””

“Yes.”

“Did you weigh everything?”

“Yes.”

“You weighed the kids?”

“No, we didn’t.”

“Weigh the kids.”

And in that moment, typewriter and vase and all became trash. Trash. It happens.

Brothers. Sisters. What things are you putting on the scales of value that simply do not matter? What are you trying to hold on to that really is just trash or, as Paul calls it, rubbish? And how do you come to see it as trash, as rubbish? Simple: You put your little treasures beside the greatest treasure and then take a fresh look at them.

Brothers. Sisters. Compared to Jesus, our treasures are all rubbish.

Jesus is greater.

Jesus is enough.

Church, Jesus is enough.

 

[i] https://www.wga.hu/html_m/zgothic/mural/13c/12italia.html

[ii] Fee, Gordon D. Paul’s Letter to the Philippians (New International Commentary on the New Testament (NICNT)) (p. 305). Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co.. Kindle Edition.

[iii] Keener, Craig S. The IVP Bible Background Commentary: New Testament (IVP Bible Background Commentary Set) (p. 563). InterVarsity Press. Kindle Edition.