Can’t Get No Satisfaction? Focus Your Faith on the Future Rather Than the Past (Phil. 3:12-14) – June 14, 2009

At a recent Reach Group gathering, a young mother at Highland was telling us how one of her girls has not been to the zoo in many months. The little girl does not want to go to the zoo. Why? “She had a bad experience,” the mother told us. The mom described how, one day, she was at the zoo with her daughter and they were looking at the elephants. All of a sudden the mother heard her daughter crying. She looked over and saw this sight: the daughter had stuck her head through the fence in front of the elephants and now could not pull her head back out of the fence. The mother frantically tried to twist and turn and tug and pull. But the fence would not release the daughter’s head. The mother called her husband and told him to come to the zoo immediately. Emergency personnel had to be summoned. They had to cut and bend that fence. What started as a quiet family trip to the zoo became a public and frantic emergency. Finally, they got the little girl’s head out of the fence. And, it’s for that reason the little girl has not been back to the zoo. “She had a bad experience.”

In many ways, what happens in our past has a great bearing on our present. Our present is shaped by our past. That girl’s present view of the zoo is colored by her past bad experience at the zoo. Our past shapes us.

Paul found this to be especially true when it comes to spiritual growth. Paul begins the section of Phil. 3:1-14 with these words: Further, my brothers and sisters, rejoice in the Lord! Paul begins this section by calling us to experience joy in our relationship with Jesus. We’ve been exploring this joy on Sunday mornings. Toward the end of this section Paul reveals how this joy can be impacted by our past: 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. (Phil. 3:12-14 TNIV)

Paul reveals two negative ways in which our join “in the Lord” can be influenced hindered by our past. First, Paul writes about The Danger of a Celebrated Past. Listen again to Paul’s words: 12 Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal…13 Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it…. What is Paul talking about here? The “all this,” the “goal,” and the “it” which Paul says he does not yet have probably refer to Phi. 3:10: knowing Jesus and becoming like Jesus. That’s the goal in the spiritual life: to know Jesus and become like Jesus. But Paul writes here that he has not already obtained that goal. He has not already arrived at that goal. He has not yet taken hold of that goal. This language is the language of a race. If the finish line is fully knowing and fully being like Jesus, Paul is saying that he’s not yet crossed that finish line. In other words, he’s saying that he has not yet arrived spiritually where he wants to be.

And it’s likely Paul is saying this because there were some spiritually deluded people in Philippi suggesting that they had arrived. They had crossed that finish line.[1] And it certainly would be easy for Paul to conclude this. A few weeks ago we listened to Paul as he rehearsed his spiritual resume in Phil. 3:4-6. He pointed to four items in his spiritual upbringing and three items in his spiritual undertaking that could easily lead Paul to believe that when it came to spiritual growth, Paul had arrived. Paul’s was a celebrated past—a past filled with all kinds of spiritual victories, and medals, and achievements. And a celebrated past is one that easily leads us to believed, “I’ve already arrived.” Paul could have looked at his celebrated past, his credentials as a Pharisee, his heritage as a member of the tribe of Benjamin, his spiritual zeal, and proudly conclude that he had already arrived at the goal of spiritual growth.

But a celebrated past like Paul’s can quickly affect our joy “in the Lord.” Because when you have a celebrated spiritual past, joy in our Savior is replaced by joy in ourselves. Earlier in this section Paul writes about people who “put confidence in the flesh” meaning they become prideful about what they have achieved in their past. There is no longer authentic joy. There is only the perverse joy of self-celebration. Joy in our Savior is replaced by joy in ourselves.

In his book What’s So Amazing About Grace? Philip Yancey writes about Benjamin Franklin’s struggle with his celebrated past.[2] At one point in his life, Franklin focused on trying to master 13 virtues. He had a little book. At the top of each page he would write one virtue. Then, for that day, he would write down on that page every time he failed to live out that virtue. The next day he would focus on the next virtue and write down his failures. He did this for each of the 13 virtues. Then he would cycle back through the list again. His goal was to have an entire 13-week period when he would have to write no failures down on any page. For decades Franklin carried his little book with him. And he made great strides. There were many times when he would have to write nothing down on those pages. But the more progress he made, the more prideful he became. Franklin wrote: There is perhaps not one of the natural passions so hard to subdue as pride. Disguise it. Struggle with it. Stifle it. Mortify it as much as one pleases. It is still alive, and will every now and then peep out and show itself….Even if I could conceive that I had completely overcome it, I should probably be proud of my humility. Franklin was able to look behind him, in the pages of that book, and see where he had made leaps and bounds. But that celebrated past began to lead him to pride.

And that is certainly a danger for those of you who may excel in the goal of knowing and becoming like Jesus. The leaps and bounds you have made can ultimately lead to pride. You no longer take joy in your Savior but you take joy in yourself. And Paul is writing to warn you against this. He wants you to rejoice “in the Lord” not in yourself.

But perhaps the far greater danger lies with a past that is not so celebrated. When Paul writes, I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me he is thinking back to that day on the Damascus road when the resurrected Jesus took hold of him. That very day Paul had been traveling to Damascus as an agent of fundamentalist judgmentalism and as a terrorist of the worst kind of religious extremism and intolerance. Paul was headed to Damascus to hunt down and drag off as many Christians as he could. He had earlier stood by and given approval of the murder of one of them named Stephen. And as far as Paul was concerned, the more of them dead, the better. That was Paul’s past. No one had more skeletons in his closet than Paul. No one had more reasons for regret than Paul. And it’s likely that all of this is in Paul’s mind as he writes.

Paul is pointing to The Danger of a Sorrowful Past. Not only has Paul not arrived, not only has he not reached his goal, but there are things in his past which would seem to disqualify him from the race altogether. Such a sorrowful past might lead Paul to believe I’ll never arrive. A celebrated past might lead someone to believe I’ve already arrived but a sorrowful past like Paul’s can lead a person to believe, I’ll never arrive. I’ll never become a truly spiritual person. All of my sin, and all of my failures in my past weigh me down. I will never arrive. And once that line of thinking begins to invade your mind rejoicing is replaced by regret. There is no joy “in the Lord” any more. There is simply regret at the decisions we’ve made and the consequences we’ve paid.

Though I never knew about Benjamin Franklin’s little book, I have long kept a similar book. Several years ago God persuaded me to be more honest about my sin. I began to journal each morning about specific ways in which I had not been Christ-like during the previous day. I began to write down specific things I said or did or thought the previous day that were not like Jesus. I still do that every morning. It helps me to confess my sin. It helps me to see where I need to partner with God in greater transformation. It helps me choose spiritual disciplines which can target my weak areas. But I struggle with this practice. Because sometimes I’ll start reading those pages about last week or last month or last year. And I’ll recall that day I yelled at my kids; that day I was so thoughtless toward Kendra; that day I entertained thoughts about someone I shouldn’t have. And my heart just fills with regret. It fills with remorse. I feel like I’ll never get there. I’ll never be the human God made me to be. I’ll never be the father I want to be to Jordan and Jacob. I’ll never be the husband I want to be to Kendra. I’ll never be the spiritual leader I want to be for this church. And suddenly my rejoicing in the Lord is replaced by regret.

And for both of these dangers—the danger of a celebrated past and the danger of a sorrowful past—Paul presents one solution: 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. (Phil. 3:13-14 TNIV) Paul is saying that joy comes when we focus more on our future than we do on our past. Again, Paul uses the language of a race. He forgets what is behind him. He forgets the celebrated past—the enormous distance he has crossed so quickly. And he forgets the sorrowful past—the way he’s fallen again and again; the murders he’s approved; the families he’s persecuted. Instead, he keeps his eyes on the goal. He strains toward what is ahead. He presses on toward the goal. The image this language evokes is that of a runner with his eyes fixed straight ahead of him and every ounce of his strength being used to propel his body toward that goal. Every muscle, tissue, emotion, and thought is pointed toward that one goal. And what Paul especially has in his sites is the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. While Paul may certainly have heaven and an eternal life in mind, as this translation indicates, there is another meaning which this translation misses. Literally Paul writes that he is pressing on toward the goal to win the prize, the upward calling of God in Christ Jesus. Paul may have in mind what would happen at the end of an ancient race. The president or leader of the games would call up the winner of the race to receive his prize. Paul’s envisioning the time when God himself will call Paul up and give Paul the prize for which he’s been racing—ultimate knowledge of and imitation of Jesus.

Paul does two things. Both are critical. First, he forgets what is behind. He leaves his past in the past. He refuses to allow his successes to tempt him to slow his pace. He refuses to allow his failures to persuade him to quit. No matter how amazing, Paul leaves his successes in the past. No matter how regrettable, Paul leaves his failures in the past. He forgets what is behind. And second, he strains toward what is ahead. He fixes his eyes on the goal of knowing Jesus and becoming like Jesus. And he pours himself into that effort.

And both steps are critical for us. There are many of you this morning who need to forget what is behind. You need to leave your past in the past. For those of you with celebrated pasts, you need to leave those successes behind so that they do not lead to pride. And for the many of us with sorrowful pasts, you need to leave those failures behind. You need to find a way to let go of that baggage. And second, we need to strain toward what is ahead. We need to fix our eyes on Jesus—knowing Jesus and becoming like Jesus. That’s where our joy is. That’s where our life is. That’s what we run toward. I have another little booklet that I look at each week. It’s very different from the book where I record my missteps. This booklet contains my spiritual goals and my spiritual mission. And one of the most rewarding times each week is when I close that one book which contains my sorrowful past and I open up this other booklet on which I’ve written the goal and the prize toward which I race. And the things of my past fade in my memory. And I am filled with excitement about pursuing Jesus once again.

John Ortberg writes about Sir Edmund Hillary:[3] Failure does not shape you; the way you respond to failure shapes you. Sir Edmund Hillary made several unsuccessful attempts at scaling Mount Everest before he finally succeeded. After one attempt he stood at the base of the giant mountain and shook his fist at it. “I’ll defeat you yet,” he said in defiance. “Because you’re as big as you’re going to get—but I’m still growing.” Every time Hillary climbed, he failed. And every time he failed, he learned. And every time he learned, he grew and tried again. And one day he didn’t fail. When Paul says that he forgets what is behind, he’s not saying he doesn’t learn from his past. He’s saying he refuses to be shaped by his past. He will not be defined by where he’s gone. He will be defined by where he’s going. And after every unsuccessful attempt to climb the summit, he gets back up and starts climbing again. Let me say this as clearly as I can: You are not defined by where you’ve gone. You are defined by where you are going. I don’t care what’s in your past or what’s happened in days gone by. You are not defined by where you’ve gone. You are defined by where you are going. Regardless of what has happened in the past, keep your eyes on the prize.

Gordon MacDonald writes that when he first ran track in prep school, his coach invited him to dinner one night.[4] After the meal, the coach pulled out a notebook displaying MacDonald’s name on the front cover. He immediately turned to the back page, which bore the heading “June 1957″—three and a half years away. “Gordon,” he said. “These are the races I’m going to schedule you to run almost four years from now. Here are the times you will achieve.” Gordon looked at those times. Impossible! They were light years away from where he was at that moment as a runner. Then Coach began turning back the pages of that book showing the 42 months he had scheduled for workouts. These were the graduated plans for increasing Gordon’s skill on the track. Paul is the coach. We are the rookie runner. Paul pulls out a notebook with our name on it. At the very end he has the goal: know Jesus and become like Jesus. We cringe. Even those of us who’ve been running for some time cringe. We don’t know Jesus like that! We’re nowhere near being that much like Jesus! But Coach wants us to know that’s the goal. He wants us to keep our eyes on it. We don’t have to get there tomorrow. Even Coach hasn’t run those times. We’ll have to take steps day by day toward that goal. Some days we’ll stumble. But no matter what happens, that’s the goal. Coach wants us to keep our eyes on that goal.

Eric Liddell’s running career was portrayed in the 1981 film “Chariots of Fire.” At the 1924 Summer Olympics, Liddell was the winner of the Men’s 400-meter and a bronze medal winner for the 200-meter. But there is an earlier race of Liddell’s which illustrates Paul’s point. Liddell is at a Scotland-France meet. The race is a 400 meter race. Liddell falls and the other racers pass him by. It seems clear that Liddell is out of the race. There is no way he can catch them. Liddell, however, undeterred, gets back up and starts running. He closes the gap and wins the race.

There are many times in our walk with Jesus when we fall. We fall into sin. We fall into complacency. And it would be easy to wallow in regret and just quit. But Paul would have us forget what is behind. He would have us shake ourselves off and get back up. He would have us back in the race and running with all we have. In your hand is a piece of string. Consider it a piece of one those old-time finish lines. I hope you’ll put it your Bible this week. And each time you see it, I hope it will remind you of the finish. May it remind you to forget what is behind and strain toward what is ahead.