Pressing On

Text: Philippians 3:1-16 Title: The Worth of Knowing Christ Theme: The surpassing value of knowing Christ, rejecting self-righteousness, and pressing on toward Christlikeness.

Introduction

In Philippians 3, Paul speaks with both deep pastoral love and firm theological conviction. He is writing to a church being tempted by legalism—Judaizers who insisted that works of the law, like circumcision, were necessary for salvation. Paul dismantles this thinking by showing that righteousness comes through faith in Christ alone.

Legalism, simply defined, is the belief that we can earn or maintain God’s favor through our performance. It substitutes human effort for divine grace, making obedience a condition for acceptance rather than a response to it. Legalism often appears spiritual, but it denies the sufficiency of Christ's finished work on the cross.

Legalism didn’t end in the first century. Today, it takes different forms: showing up to church every week thinking that earns you favor, obsessing over external morality while neglecting the heart, or even comparing your Bible reading streak to others. It can look like believing you’re more accepted by God because you don’t drink, vote a certain way, or listen to secular music. These modern forms of legalism are just as dangerous because they subtly replace Christ’s finished work with our religious performance.

Paul’s message is clear: all attempts to earn favor with God through external rule-keeping are rubbish compared to the surpassing value of knowing Jesus. True righteousness is not achieved but received—through faith in Christ alone.

basically Jesus plus something doesn't work in our salvation or in our relationship with Him.

He is stated in today's passage that our relationship with God must keep pace with our knowledge of God.

"The gospel isn't just the starting line of the Christian life—it's the entire racecourse we run on." That is Paul’s point here. The Christian life is not about our works but about the worth of knowing Christ personally.

So today, we’ll examine two movements in this passage:

True Righteousness (Phil. 3:1-11)

Pressing On Toward the Goal (Phil. 3:12-16)

I. True Righteousness (Philippians 3:1-11)

"Whatever happens, my dear brothers and sisters, rejoice in the Lord. I never get tired of telling you these things, and I do it to safeguard your faith. Watch out for those dogs, those people who do evil, those mutilators who say you must be circumcised to be saved. For we who worship by the Spirit of God are the ones who are truly circumcised. We rely on what Christ Jesus has done for us. We put no confidence in human effort, though I could have confidence in my own effort if anyone could. Indeed, if others have reason for confidence in their own efforts, I have even more! I was circumcised when I was eight days old. I am a pure-blooded citizen of Israel and a member of the tribe of Benjamin—a real Hebrew if there ever was one! I was a member of the Pharisees, who demand the strictest obedience to the Jewish law. I was so zealous that I harshly persecuted the church. And as for righteousness, I obeyed the law without fault. I once thought these things were valuable, but now I consider them worthless because of what Christ has done. Yes, everything else is worthless when compared with the infinite value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have discarded everything else, counting it all as garbage, so that I could gain Christ and become one with him. I no longer count on my own righteousness through obeying the law; rather, I become righteous through faith in Christ. For God’s way of making us right with himself depends on faith. I want to know Christ and experience the mighty power that raised him from the dead. I want to suffer with him, sharing in his death, so that one way or another I will experience the resurrection from the dead!" (Philippians 3:1-11, NLT)

Paul begins with a warning: beware of the dogs. This is ironic—Jews often called Gentiles “dogs,” but Paul flips it, calling the legalists dogs. They think they are spiritually clean, but in reality, they are outside the gospel.

Legalism is dangerous. It subtly shifts our trust from Christ to ourselves. It is the mindset that says we must add something to the finished work of Jesus in order to be accepted by God. Whether it's rituals, moral behavior, traditions, or religious activities—legalism says, "Jesus isn't enough." And that is a false gospel. Legalism whispers, "You're only okay if you perform well enough." But the gospel shouts, "You are accepted because Christ performed perfectly on your behalf."

In today’s context, legalism might look like thinking God loves you more because you had a quiet time today, or that He loves you less because you didn’t. It’s thinking your service, or political stance makes you more spiritual than others. It might even come out in subtle judgments we pass on others who don’t follow our personal convictions. But all of this—however religious or noble—is deadly if it replaces simple, childlike faith in Jesus.

Legalism isn't just wrong; it's spiritually toxic. It empties the cross of its power and replaces grace with guilt, joy with pressure, and intimacy with performance. Paul’s passionate rebuke of legalism reminds us that the gospel is not Jesus plus effort—it’s Jesus plus nothing.

Paul gets personal here. If anyone could claim spiritual credibility based on religious background or behavior, it was him. He basically had the perfect spiritual resume: born into the right family, followed all the right religious customs, belonged to the elite religious group (the Pharisees), and had a reputation for being passionate and morally upright. He even persecuted Christians because he thought it was the righteous thing to do. If knowing God was about checking boxes and measuring up, Paul would've been at the top of the list. But he realized that none of it could make him right with God. It was all surface-level without a heart transformed by Christ.

Yet, what does he say?

"But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ." (v. 7)

Judah Smith explains that Paul "treats all of his accomplishments like Monopoly money—impressive in the game but worthless in real life." Think about that—Monopoly money might make you feel rich for a moment, but when it comes time to pay for something real, it’s useless. Paul is saying that all of his religious efforts, titles, and achievements may have looked impressive in the world’s eyes, but they had no eternal value. In fact, they were actually getting in the way of truly knowing Christ. He realized that trusting in his own righteousness was like trying to buy heaven with play money. In comparison to the infinite worth of knowing Jesus, all of it was trash. Paul wasn’t just letting go of his past—he was trading it in for something far better: a real, vibrant, personal relationship with the risen Christ.

"Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord." (v. 8)

Paul is not just saying he lost his past righteousness—he counts it as loss, an ongoing choice. This is what it means to treasure Christ above all.

John Piper emphasizes that this is not just knowing about Christ but experiencing Him as our highest joy. It's the difference between reading about the Grand Canyon and standing on the edge of it, overwhelmed by its beauty. Knowing facts about Jesus is important, but it’s not the goal. The goal is being so gripped by who He is and what He’s done that our hearts are moved and our lives are changed. This kind of knowing leads to worship, to delight, to longing. It makes Jesus not just our Savior in theory, but our Treasure in reality. Real Christianity isn’t just informational; it’s transformational. We aren’t just called to believe Christ—we're invited to behold Him, to savor Him, to enjoy Him as our highest joy.

II. Pressing On (Philippians 3:12-16)

"I don’t mean to say that I have already achieved these things or that I have already reached perfection. But I press on to possess that perfection for which Christ Jesus first possessed me. No, dear brothers and sisters, I have not achieved it, but I focus on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead, I press on to reach the end of the race and receive the heavenly prize for which God, through Christ Jesus, is calling us. Let all who are spiritually mature agree on these things. If you disagree on some point, I believe God will make it plain to you. But we must hold on to the progress we have already made." (Philippians 3:12-16, NLT)

Paul makes it clear—he is not yet perfect, but he presses on. Why? Because Christ has already taken hold of him.

This is the tension of the Christian life: we strive, but not to earn—only to know Jesus more. In a world obsessed with achievement and self-promotion, this is a radically different kind of pursuit. It’s not about proving our worth, building our spiritual resume, or outperforming others in holiness. It’s about responding to the love of a Savior who already laid hold of us. Our effort is not motivated by fear or guilt, but by joy and longing. We strive because we’ve been captured by Christ, and now we want more of Him. We press forward not to earn a spot on the team, but because we already belong. It's a striving that is fueled by grace, not by pressure—a pursuit that finds its strength in being pursued first by Jesus Himself.

It’s like a child learning to ride a bike. The parent is right behind them, holding the seat, encouraging, steadying, and ready to catch them if they fall. The child is pedaling forward—not to earn their parent’s love, but because they already have it. Their motivation isn’t fear of rejection but the joy of trust. They’re pressing on because someone stronger already has a hold of them. That’s the Christian life. We’re not racing to get God’s attention; we’re moving forward because He’s already lovingly secured us in Christ.

This is what Paul means when he says he forgets what is behind and strains toward what is ahead. It’s a holy discontentment—he knows he hasn’t arrived yet, but he also knows he’s not who he used to be. Grace doesn't make us passive; it ignites a holy hunger. And that hunger drives us, not to perform for God, but to pursue Him with everything we’ve got.

The phrase "one thing I do" (v. 13) is a focused pursuit. Like a runner in a race, we forget what is behind and press forward.

"I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus." (v. 14)

Paul is single-minded. The goal is Christ.

Tim Keller once said, "Christian growth is looking more and more like Jesus—not just being better, but being more in love with Him." That captures the heart of Paul’s message. He’s not chasing a checklist or moral improvement plan—he’s pursuing a Person. True spiritual growth isn’t about adding layers of behavior; it’s about deepening intimacy. It’s about loving Jesus so much that our lives begin to reflect His. Being conformed to Christ means our priorities shift, our desires change, and our actions start to echo His heart. This is not mechanical obedience—it’s love-driven transformation. Paul isn’t calling us to just look like Christians; he’s inviting us to love Christ so deeply that looking like Him becomes inevitable.

And this kind of love isn’t something we produce on our own—it flows from the gospel. The good news is that Jesus didn’t wait for us to clean up or climb a spiritual ladder. He came down to us. He lived the perfect life we couldn’t live, died the death we deserved to die, and rose again to offer us a righteousness we could never earn. In Christ, we are fully forgiven, eternally accepted, and deeply loved—not because of what we do, but because of what He has done.

That’s the beauty of the gospel: we are not accepted because we change; we are changed because we are accepted. The invitation of Philippians 3 is to abandon self-reliance and run wholeheartedly into the arms of a Savior who gave everything so we could truly know Him.

Hebrews 12:1-2 reminds us to "lay aside every weight" and "fix our eyes on Jesus." The goal is not earthly success but eternal joy in Him.

For those who have never surrendered to that grace, today is the day to lay down your striving and receive the gift of life in Jesus. If that's you, here is a simple prayer you can pray:

"Jesus, I know that I am a sinner and that I can’t save myself. I’ve tried to earn your love and prove my worth, but today I give up my efforts and receive your grace. I believe You died for my sins and rose from the dead. Come into my life. Change me. Help me to know You and follow You all my days. Amen."

If you’ve known Him for years, today is still the day to press on—to pursue more of the One who has already made you His own.

Here’s a simple prayer you can make your own:

"Lord Jesus, I want to know You more. I confess that I often settle, grow distracted, or lose focus. But today, I renew my desire to seek You with all my heart. I lay aside the things that hold me back and fix my eyes on You. Draw me deeper into Your love, Your truth, and Your presence. Stir up a holy hunger in me that doesn’t fade. Help me to press on—not out of duty, but out of joy, because You are worth it. Amen."

Conclusion

Paul’s message is clear: Everything is loss compared to Christ. Our righteousness is in Him alone. And until we stand before Him, we press on.

Are you running the race? Is Christ your highest treasure?

Let’s echo Paul’s words: "That I may know Him."

Soli Deo Gloria.