TO GAIN CHRIST

God does not always just add something to our lives. He brings some things to an end.

The natural heart thinks in terms of addition. It desires more knowledge, greater usefulness, deeper experiences, stronger faith, and richer blessings. God’s purpose begins with subtraction before it proceeds to fullness.

He empties before He fills.

He strips away before He clothes.

He causes us to lose confidence in everything that belongs to Adam so that Christ alone may become our confidence.

This is the great lesson lying beneath Paul’s testimony in Philippians 3. The apostle is not merely recounting his conversion. He is unveiling a spiritual law that governs the whole Christian life.

Before meeting Christ, Paul possessed everything that religion could offer. His heritage was honorable. His morality was beyond reproach. His zeal was unmatched. His learning was extraordinary.

If righteousness could have been obtained through religious attainment, Paul would have stood among the greatest of men.

But when the Lord Jesus revealed Himself, the entire structure upon which Paul had built his confidence collapsed in a single moment (Acts 9:3-6).

Notice carefully that Paul does not say those former things were necessarily evil in themselves.

Birth into Israel was a privilege. Knowledge of God’s word was a privilege. Zeal for truth, though tragically misdirected, demonstrated sincerity.

These things were gifts of God’s providence. The tragedy was not that Paul possessed them. The tragedy was that he trusted in them.

That distinction remains vital today.

The flesh is remarkably religious. It delights in collecting spiritual achievements. It quietly boasts in years of church attendance, theological understanding, faithful service, doctrinal precision, successful ministries, disciplined habits, or moral victories.

None of these things are wrong. Indeed, many are wonderful gifts from God. But the old creation possesses an astonishing ability to transform God’s gifts into substitutes for Christ Himself (Jeremiah 9:23-24).

This is why the Lord often permits seasons that dismantle every confidence we have carefully constructed.

He allows success to disappoint us. He permits strength to fail. He exposes the weakness of our wisdom. He reveals that what we called spiritual maturity often rested upon natural ability strengthened by religious activity.

Christ is never cruel in this work.

He removes only what prevents us from possessing something infinitely greater.

Paul therefore writes, “But what things were gain to me, these I have counted loss for Christ” (Philippians 3:7).

The language is striking. It is the language of accounting.

Paul pictures his former life as a ledger. Across one column stood every accomplishment he had accumulated. Every achievement had once been entered as profit. Every distinction increased his confidence before God.

Then Christ appeared.

The entire ledger had to be rewritten.

Everything formerly recorded under “gain” was transferred into the column marked “loss.”

Nothing about Christ had changed.

Everything about Paul’s evaluation had changed.

This is always the effect of genuine revelation.

Education cannot produce it.

Argument cannot produce it.

Emotion cannot produce it.

Only the unveiling of the glory of Christ can alter a man’s values so completely that he gladly abandons what once defined his identity (2 Corinthians 4:6).

The Christian life is therefore not fundamentally a matter of self-denial.

That statement may seem surprising.

Certainly Jesus commands us to deny ourselves (Luke 9:23). Biblical self-denial, though, is never an end in itself.

God is not interested in producing people who simply live with less. His purpose is to create people who have found Someone infinitely greater.

Paul did not become an ascetic because earthly things were worthless.

He surrendered them because Christ possessed infinite worth.

That is an entirely different matter.

Many people attempt to renounce the world through sheer determination.

They grit their teeth. They discipline themselves. They suppress desires. But inwardly they remain fascinated by what they have abandoned. Their sacrifice becomes another form of pride.

Paul’s testimony reveals something altogether different.

The heart captivated by Christ does not continually stare backward.

It looks forward.

A child who discovers a treasure chest does not mourn the pebbles he leaves behind.

Likewise, the soul that has truly seen the Lord Jesus does not constantly calculate the cost of discipleship.

It becomes overwhelmed by the greatness of the One it has found (Matthew 13:44).

This explains why Paul intensifies his language in verse 8.

“Indeed I also count all things loss for the excellence of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord.”

Notice the movement.

Verse 7 speaks of the things that had once been gains.

Verse 8 expands the circle dramatically.

Now it is “all things.”

Everything outside Christ must ultimately surrender its claim to ultimate importance.

Not because creation lacks beauty.

Not because family lacks value.

Not because ministry lacks significance.

Not because knowledge lacks usefulness.

But because none of these things were ever intended to occupy the throne reserved for God’s Son.

Christ does not ask merely to become the highest priority among many.

He becomes the center from which every other blessing receives its proper meaning (Colossians 1:16-18).

The tragedy of much modern Christianity is that Christ is often presented as the means to obtaining something else.

Come to Christ for peace.

Come to Christ for purpose.

Come to Christ for joy.

Come to Christ for blessing.

While these promises are wonderfully true, they remain incomplete if separated from their source.

The supreme gift of the gospel is not peace.

It is Christ.

The supreme gift is not forgiveness.

It is Christ.

The supreme gift is not heaven.

It is Christ.

Forgiveness removes every barrier so that we may know Him.

Peace enables us to rest in Him.

Heaven is glorious because He is there.

Every blessing of redemption exists to bring us into living union and increasing fellowship with the Son of God (John 17:3; Ephesians 1:3-10; Colossians 2:9-10).

This is why Paul does not merely speak about knowing doctrines concerning Christ.

He longs for “the excellence of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord.”

The word “knowledge” here reaches far beyond information. It speaks of living fellowship, personal acquaintance, growing communion, and continual discovery.

The more Paul knows Christ, the more he realizes how inexhaustible Christ is. Every fresh revelation creates an even deeper hunger. Every glimpse of His glory awakens a longing for greater conformity to His image.

The believer never reaches the place where he has mastered Christ.

Rather, Christ increasingly masters him.

This is the secret of true spiritual growth.

BDD