Philippians 3:7–14
Philippians 3:7-14
7 But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ.
8 What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things and consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ
9 and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own own righteousness, which is based on the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness that comes from God through faith.
10 I want to know him and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of his sufferings and be conformed to his death, 11 so that I may attain the resurrection from the dead.
12 Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own.
13 Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead,
14 I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.
The Grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit
be with us all. Amen.
Dear congregation,
This is a striking passage from the Epistle to the Philippians. Paul speaks about his life in a way that takes my breath away.
He uses words that make me stumble and listen closely.
‘I consider what I used to do to be rubbish.’ "What I used to consider a gain was a
loss!"
Often, when I read Paul's letters, I struggle at first. The man had real ‘issues’ and I sometimes wonder if it's a good thing that he has become so important.
Today, people would certainly, attribute narcissistic traits to him. Add to that a bit of fanaticism. He is also a very educated and intelligent man who grew up
in authoritarian structures. Contradiction was not expected. That is an explosive mixture.
While I struggle with my doubts about Paul, this dubious character, I think about what I would do if Paul came to me and asked me for pastoral counselling.
Yes, I would arrange to meet him and then I would put up with his coarse language for the time being and listen and ask myself:
what has this man experienced that he uses such strong language? What must happen when someone describes their life so far as ‘'rubbish’?
What is going on when someone can find little to love in their life so far, but instead has the impression that what used to mean something to them
is no longer important?
Yes, I would prepare myself for an encounter with Paul and listen to him.
As Paul writes his letter, he is probably sitting in prison. He does not know what will happen to him.
He is certainly afraid and prepares himself for the fact that his life is in danger. Paul knows the Romans
well enough to realise that mercy is a foreign concept to them.
When this letter from Paul was included in our Bible, it was known that Paul had died helplessly:
either as a martyr in 60 AD during Nero's persecution, or in 64 AD when Rome burned during the fire, together with many other Christians.
His faith cost him his life – and his faith cost many others their lives.
So, while Paul is in prison, he will reflect and contemplate his life – inevitably.
This is not a comfortable contemplation accompanied by pastoral care. Instead, Paul is at the mercy of the Romans and himself.
So, he thinks about his faith, his values, what is precious and important to him.
This is about the inner struggle of a man in mortal danger – it is not a dogmatic treatise, not a theological essay like some passages
in the Epistle to the Romans.
This is about the essentials, about his spiritual existence.
And this uncertain life, his captivity, is embedded in a time when the world in which he lived was uncertain and dangerous.
It was a time marked by power and violence. A time when the Romans considered themselves invincible conquering the world.
And he is right in the middle of it.
And there, almost at the end and in this precarious situation, he asks: "Dear brothers and sisters, I don't know
if I have understood well what life all is about."
That is courageous. That Paul is opening like this and does not keep these thoughts to himself. It is surprising that
this man, who uses such coarse language, communicates something from his wounded soul.
For there can be no insight more bitter than this: ‘I may have been mistaken!’
Imagine, at the end of your professional life, you have the impression: ‘Was it really worth it?’
Imagine someone receives a diagnosis that will be fatal, and this person then asks themselves: ‘Was the way I lived, okay?’
And they not only ask, but they struggle and doubt and are under the impression: ‘Everything was in vain!’
There I listen even more closely and feel great empathy for Paul, whom I initially wanted to interrupt and contradict.
The man who knew so much, who founded so many churches, who gave people advice. The man who had a great leadership role
ultimately says: I'm not sure I understood everything correctly.
Then again, I am amazed at how Paul finds his way out of these difficult thoughts. As he is in doubts, he reflects on a time in his life
when he was like this before. Another crisis that he overcame and that now shows him the way.
You all know the story of his great transformation.
On the road to Damascus, he was interrupted by Jesus. That is how Paul experienced it.
And then Saul became Paul. The persecutor of Christians became a leader of the Christian
church, a great apostle.
Paul reflects in his deep doubt and painful realisation that he has not properly understood
what is important about Jesus Christ.
Nothing in his life is certain anymore – only one thing remains certain: Jesus Christ.
In my opinion, this is where it becomes very significant for us, as his later listeners.
It takes courage to allow oneself to think and experience that nothing in one's life is certain. That hurts.
Realising that one can lose everything is an attack on the soul. Three weeks ago, nothing was amiss, and now a serious cancer diagnosis.
A few weeks ago, one was happy and content, and now a stroke of fate: an accident or the victim of a violent crime.
Nothing is certain. Paul learns this. I am no longer surprised by how harsh the language is: ‘‘Dirt!’’
Paul is angry and sad and full of fear and thrown off course.
We humans long for security and are willing to invest a lot in it.
In South Africa in particular, we want so much more security. "Oh, if only living in our
homes were safe!” “Oh, if only my job was secure!’ ‘Oh, if only it were certain
that my children would have a good life!’
“If only it were certain that I would be healthy into old age!”
That is what this text really is about. Paul is a man in deep distress, in prison. A man who
suspects that his life may end more quickly and cruelly than he would have wished.
And in this moment, in this incomprehensible uncertainty that can completely throw a person off track,
in this uncertainty, he has the strength to reflect on what does not create security, but certainty.
I quote Paul:
10 I want to know him and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of his sufferings, becoming like him in his death,
11” so that I may attain the resurrection from the dead. 12 Not that
I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own.”
Even in his distress, Paul knows that he is embedded in the story of Jesus. And there are thoughts, words, prayers, psalms that come to him in prison.
Fragments of words. Words that challenge him. He clings to these words and is thus pulled out. God gives him words and thoughts.
Amid his fear, Paul identifies with Jesus and finds a source of strength in his contemplation of the life and suffering of Jesus. What he wrote theoretically as a scribe
now becomes true for him. He finds no security in it. His faith in and with Jesus Christ does not make his life any easier, but it does make it much more bearable, yet he rests in a certainty.
That is difficult to understand.
And I can only say: blessed are those who are spared such experiences of complete uncertainty.
Blessed are those who do not find themselves in situations where violence is so close and death so tangible. Blessed are they!
Blessed are those who do not see this passage as a theoretical treatise, but as the confession of a person in deep distress: in deep distress and yet secure in God.
Only those who have experienced it themselves can and will understand this. Those who have experienced it should speak about it courageously.
I have experienced for myself how such a testimony helps others to grow in faith.
In my former parish in Leopoldshöhe, I met a woman who is now 97 years old.
She was 83 when I first met her. A petite, slim woman with a clear
mind, tough and determined.
A very devout woman. If we wanted to pigeonhole her, we would label her ‘evangelical’. But I believe the term is foreign to her.
Her home is reminiscent of times gone by: no electric stove, but a wood-burning stove. No central heating, but an oil stove. The furniture is old.
She usually wears a smock, like the old women I knew from my childhood.
Somehow, this woman has fallen out of time. In front of her front door is her vegetable garden. And a flower bed. Whenever I met her, she would say, ‘Mrs. Schauf, the most important thing is our Lord, Jesus.’
I smiled when she said that and felt resistance. But something made me remain silent and nod friendly!
When I visited her for the first time, she told me about her life: When she was in her late 30s and had three
young daughters, her husband died unexpectedly of a heart attack. He was young. He went to the bathroom at night and collapsed dead.
There was no life insurance. There was no money. No savings.
This woman managed to raise her daughters. They all learned a profession and live a contented, simple and happy life. There are two sons-in-law and granddaughters.
I asked her how she managed it. She replied, "Mrs Schauf, I remembered my confirmation verse: “Nevertheless, I will always be with you”. And Jesus gave me strength every day!"
A testimony of faith. This woman, whose life appears quite simple and unpretentious from the outside, has become a source of strength for me – a living letter, a living word of God.
It is a privilege to meet such people. Paul and ancient witnesses and contemporary witnesses, who tell how their lives have taken a turn. Yes, my mind has questions. My reason goes
into contradiction. My heart says: thank you for such certainty.
Reading Paul is similar for me. I have serious questions and all kinds of criticisms about some of his ideas.
But his certainty of being safe in Jesus Christ in times of need is a source of strength for me.
No, there are many things in life that I do not understand, but I share this experience: blessed is he who can say of himself:
God has found me. Nevertheless, I remain with him always.
May the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, guard our hearts and minds in Christ
Jesus. Amen
