guilty of heart pride.

But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ.

As I was sitting in church this morning listening to an inspired message from Philippians 3, I was extremely challenged. And extremely grateful for a topic that spoke so deeply to my heart. I have attended church since I was born. I was raised in the church, I speak Christianese very fluently, I can expound on various topics easily. I have had a small period of rebellion (though I am sure it felt quite long and painful to my parents at the time), and I have been brought back with sudden clarity and full passion. I have dealt with incredibly difficult circumstances. In the imagined church hierarchy of my mind, I have a secure place. I have earned my place. And therein lies the problem. Even with all my knowledge and memorised verses and study, I still feel like I have earned something.

This is why, to my mind, so many other religions are as popular as they are: we all like to feel like what we have attained has something to do with our merit. Even though we know it is futile and even though we know we will never feel like we have done enough, and even though we know there will always be another level or that we will fail in some way, we all want to feel the joy of ownership in our spiritual walk. It is something I know I struggle with regularly. And it is the failing of human pride. What I was forced to face today is that this desire of my heart is in direct opposition to the work of Christ. Because even though I know I am saved by Christ alone, I know I am guilty of feeling like I could stack the deck with enough devotion. Like I have a good enough story, I have a faithful enough life, to get me a slightly shinier crown, a slightly bigger mansion. And even as I write this I am shaking my head at myself.

If anyone else thinks he has reasons to put confidence in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; in regard to the law, a Pharisee; as for zeal, persecuting the church; as for legalistic righteousness, faultless. (3:4-6)

While this list is not one that we would count to our credit now, as we know that salvation is from faith and not adherence to the law, it is still noteworthy. Paul had every reason, at the time in which he lived and in the society in which he lived, to feel secure in his righteousness. He was the cream of the Hebrew crop. He had all the knowledge and power and blamelessness to his credit. Yet, what was to his credit among his people was to his detriment in the Kingdom. And it was his Damascus road experience, when he was faced with the risen Christ, that was the only thing that turned his attention to the real salvation: the humble and submissive death of Christ and His crushing defeat of sin in resurrection. All that brought to him a clear picture of what is valuable and what is worthless. And it is easy to point to his conversion and see how that would have such a powerful and life changing impact on everything he thought he knew. But don’t we all have a conversion experience? They all look different and they all take place in different places and at different ages, but we all have one. And we all know the fiery passion we felt after that moment. But unlike me, Paul did not let that passion dwindle. He was constantly fanning it to flame.

So here is my problem. I have failed to fan the flames. I keep dwindling. And not only fading, but feeling comfortable in that fading by justifying myself with all the things that count to my “credit.” With all the years of church attendance, with the crashing back into God’s arms in surrender, with facing and overcoming a difficult situation that brought me closer to God, with the amount of study and growth. None of those are bad things. They are all good. But they do not get listed in some account. They are just parts of the story. Pieces of a picture. A picture of Christ. So how do I keep getting so confused? How do I keep counting things to my credit? How do I keep thinking that my list somehow pays off the shortcomings? There is no other explanation than pride. And, to my great horror, it was pride that can largely be attributed to the failure of the Jewish people to accept Christ. Their pride in the law that was written for them, their pride in their obedience to that law, their pride in their high place in God’s family. That is what they clung to. Their pride blinded them to the true victory of Christ because they were looking for one that would elevate their earthly position. Am I any less guilty? No! I am fully guilty of the same thing. Pride that I have done so much. Yet, my “much” is really nothing. I need to put on the mantle of

whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. 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. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him, (3:7-9a)

Just because I am already saved does not mean that I can stop setting aside my pride. The value I attribute to myself will always be a detraction from the worth of Christ. Even if I never voice it, even if I live outwardly in all humility and service, even then I am still guilty. For the thoughts of my heart continually lead me down the road of pride. I need to change the system by which I attribute value. Is there any greater way to see myself then worthy because of Christ? Is there any better way to live than as one who is seen as worthy of knowing Christ? I can honestly say that I struggle to count everything as loss compared to knowing Christ. It is a battle for me to set aside the things and people I love  in order to say that I count Christ greater than everything else. And that is so sad. Because all the things I count to my credit I have only because of Christ. All that is good and lovely and God-honouring is mine only because of salvation. How dare I ever think that I can count myself more valuable than I was before because I have lived the life that Christ created and ordained for me.  How dare I! Rather, let this be the life and desire and mentality that I seek:

I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, (3:10)

Christ never lived as one who credited anything to himself, even though he shared all the attributes of God; he laid aside everything for us. He, who is God, subjected himself to humanity to save the people he created and sustains. Becoming like Him in death is not about dying in the same manner as him, but dying with the same manner as him: humbly. Not just in speech and action and service, but in heart and mind. If Christ had every right to demand to be valued and honoured as God but set that aside to be the salvation of the whole world, what right do I have prideful thoughts when I do not even have the power to save myself?

For it is we who are the circumcision, we who worship by the Spirit of God, who glory in Christ Jesus, and who put no confidence in the flesh (3:3)