But whatever were gains to me I now consider loss for the sake of 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, that I may gain Christ (Philippians 3:7, 8). 

As we have discovered while studying Paul’s epistle to the Philippians, these are people with whom the apostle feels perfectly comfortable. He shoots from the hip and tells it like he sees it. And for their part I’m sure they understand that Paul might lean into hyperbole every now and again.

In this week’s passage, he begins by saying that compared to Christ he considers even his GAINS to be LOSSES. In fact, EVERYTHING is a LOSS when compared with the surpassing worth of knowing Jesus. 

In fact, everything else is just garbage. Yeah. GARBAGE.

Paul even lists the specifics of this garbage, explaining that if there are credentials to be flaunted or Jewish bona fides to boast about, he is definitely THE MAN. 

But for Jesus’ sake, Paul happily divests himself of all of them, impressive though they may be. Because NOTHING matters but Jesus.

A while back, Alex preached a sermon about how the core identity of every believer is CHILD OF GOD. It was memorable, partly because of the fun visual of Alex applying nametags, one on top of the other, illustrating the many labels he wore during his life: “Tarheel,” “Failure,” “Builder,” “Pastor,” and “Father.” Toward the end of the sermon he removed all the nametags from his shirt pocket, replacing them with just one: CHILD OF GOD.

It was not that the labels no longer applied (except “Failure” which was clearly some blip on the radar from his distant youth.) But they were insignificant, compared with being a CHILD OF GOD. Then he invited the congregation to close our eyes and recall the labels we had worn over the years. 

Of course, I was all in on this fun naval-gazing exercise and called up a slew of identities, mostly fabulous (“Artist,” “Writer,” “Mom/Grammy”) but others not-so-fabulous (“Defensive,” “Divorced,” “Disappointing”). Then suddenly, with my eyes closed, I saw a name tag that said “Jew.” 

“What!? But I AM a Jew! Being Jewish Is super-critical to who I am!” 

I could feel that old defensiveness coming on. Then I sensed God say, “Yes, you are a writer, an artist, and a Jew. But none of that compares with being MY CHILD.”

The effect was profound. And my Father in Heaven and I return to that conversation from time to time.

Paul invites us to take out the GARBAGE and make room for our one essential identity. The one that will usher us into his kingdom. The one we can wear on our nametag for all eternity. 

He tells his beloved Philippians that he longs to participate, not in the glory, but in the sufferings of Jesus. To be like him, not as a triumphant miracle-worker, but in his death. 

“And so, SOMEHOW attaining to the resurrection of the dead” (v. 11).

This last humble, understated whisper of a prayer from the often-hyperbolic Paul is both astounding and touching. Longing to bear the likeness of Jesus, he presses on toward the goal that calls him to the ultimate prize of every CHILD OF GOD.

Abba, may we, your children, cherish what is eternally valuable, and consider anything that competes with our love for you as garbage. Yeah. Garbage.