Can Anything Good Come from Tarsus? (Acts 22, Philippians 3)

Most of us have a mixed bag of stuff from our past, from our formative years. We may possess both opportunities, perhaps in education, but possibly also some challenges from family dysfunction. Or perhaps it could be just the opposite. Just as a strong background can surely prepare a person for lifetime successes, there is no guarantee it will evolve in that direction. Likewise, a less than stellar upbringing can be overcome, as many rags to riches stories attest.

The Apostle Paul could boast a very strong background, especially in Jewish circles of association. His credentials could match just about anyone else. Even so, thinking ahead in the story, we know that this strict Jewish education did not position him to naturally gravitate toward the new teachings of a crucified and resurrected Messiah with a gospel message for all mankind. But that is getting ahead of ourselves.

As we consider Paul’s background, it is rather certain that Paul was born relatively close to the same time as Jesus Christ (maybe about two years older?), and that he would therefore live into his upper 60s.

From the city of Tarsus (south-central Turkey), we can infer that Paul came from what must have been a relatively affluent family. Though ethnically Jewish, they met Roman citizenship requirements as land owners and were likely among the leading people of the city. Paul’s family could trace their lineage to the tribe of Benjamin, his name “Saul” being after King Saul of that tribe, with Paulus being a Roman name given him by his Roman/Jewish father.

He possessed the finest of educations, what we might consider like a Harvard/Princeton equivalent, sitting also under the most famous of instructors. In an uproar in Jerusalem during his ministry, Paul sought and received the soldiers’ permission to address the rioting Jewish crowd …

Acts 22:1-3 … “Brothers and fathers, listen now to my defense.” When they heard him speak to them in Aramaic, they became very quiet. Then Paul said: “I am a Jew, born in Tarsus of Cilicia, but brought up in this city. I studied under Gamaliel and was thoroughly trained in the law of our ancestors.

So this is about as good as it can get in terms of a background for a Jewish boy in the Roman world. Paul gave a summary of it when writing to the church in Philippi – who were dealing with Jewish legalists and their proud lineage …

Philippians 3:4-6 … If someone else thinks they have 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 righteousness based on the law, faultless.

So Paul would have grown up with an early Synagogue education, topped off by Gamaliel and graduating magna cum laude. He would have known Hebrew, Greek, and the Septuagint as well (the Greek translation of the Hebrew Old Testament). And he could speak the common language of Aramaic. Tarsus was in fact one of the three great “university towns” of that age, along with Athens in Greece and Alexandria in Egypt.

Like all responsible Jewish families, boys were taught a trade – for Paul, tent-making. The area from which he came in Cilicia boasted a particular type of high-grade fabric from the prevalence of goat herds, and this skill would prove valuable for Paul in his travel years as a missionary.

Paul’s advanced education and his commitment to it would lead him to become a Pharisee and member surely of the Sanhedrin. He was on track to become one of the foremost Jewish leaders of his generation.

We first encounter Paul on the pages of Scripture in the book of Acts, in chapters 7 and 8, upon the occasion of the stoning of Stephen after his sermon …

Acts 7:54—8:3 — 54 … When the members of the Sanhedrin heard this, they were furious and gnashed their teeth at him. 55 But Stephen, full of the Holy Spirit, looked up to heaven and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God. 56 “Look,” he said, “I see heaven open and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God.”

57 At this they covered their ears and, yelling at the top of their voices, they all rushed at him, 58 dragged him out of the city and began to stone him. Meanwhile, the witnesses laid their coats at the feet of a young man named Saul.

For Paul to be a Pharisee, he would have had to be around the age of at least 30, and this works with the presumed timeline of his life.

59 While they were stoning him, Stephen prayed, “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.” 60 Then he fell on his knees and cried out, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.” When he had said this, he fell asleep.

8:1 – On that day a great persecution broke out against the church in Jerusalem, and all except the apostles were scattered throughout Judea and Samaria. 2 Godly men buried Stephen and mourned deeply for him. 3 But Saul began to destroy the church. Going from house to house, he dragged off both men and women and put them in prison.

So this event was a sort of “coming out” event for Saul/Paul, where his Jewish zeal and faith moved him to radical action (that would not have been endorsed actually by Gamaliel). And it is a couple of chapters later that we see Paul’s incredible conversion story, and we shall study again over these weeks all that came from the new life he found in Christ.

So Paul was uniquely qualified to serve God as he did – combining the great Jewish background of theology, the education of the Greek culture, and the opportunities that Roman citizenship could open for him. But his ultimate success was not because of these things, not primarily. It is not as if God chose Paul because he was the candidate with the best resume to miraculously redeem from the other side. No, Paul ultimately was the great leader of the early church because, by God’s grace, he was empowered to accomplish all that he did. His fleshly credentials were not his best asset, and his liabilities (such as apparently not being the healthiest guy around nor the best orator) did not diminish his success or limit what God could do through him.

So education is grand! A wonderful and godly family is an asset. Having great natural skills of personal and professional interaction are resume builders for sure. But none of it matters for eternity without the empowering blessing of God working through you. And no lack of these natural skills and blessings can thwart what God can do through the life of a yielded Christian. When we are weak, He is strong… as Paul knew and wrote!

Walking in Your Hero’s Footsteps (Philippians 3)

When I was a little boy, I had a hero – my brother-in-law – who had just married one of my much older sisters.  He was, and still is, a real gem of a guy. My grandmother was aware of my veneration for this new addition to our family, and like the great matriarch that she was, she took him aside one day and said, “That little boy idolizes you, so you’d better watch everything you say and do in front of him.”  I know my brother-in-law is a sinner theologically speaking, but I can’t quite picture it actually happening! I wanted to grow up to be like him. I didn’t quite make it… I could never be that nice of a person.

Did you have a hero when you were growing up? It is rather quite common to look up to someone and wish to be like him or her.

Paul said to the readers of the first letter to the Corinthians, “Follow my example, as I follow the example of Christ” (11:1). He told the Ephesians, Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God” (5:1-2).  The word for “imitators” is the same word from which we derive “mimic” in English. Look to God and mimic what you see. But, you can’t see God! True! But you can gain a picture of Jesus Christ that is quite detailed. He is the exact representation of God (Colossians 1:15).  He is the visible explanation of God (“explanation / made known” is the word from which we derive “exegesis”… which is a detailed examination and explanation of the meaning of something)… John 1:18 – “No one has ever seen God, but God the One and Only, who is at the Father’s side, has made him known.”

How well do you follow the example of Jesus Christ and walk in His footsteps? Do you do it well enough that someone else may see it in you and make you a part of the pattern for their walk? You do have influence. Others do look at you. There will be people, probably in younger generations than you, who will look to you and walk as you do.  Will they look like Christ?

PHP 3:7 But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. 8 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 9 and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ–the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith. 10 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, 11 and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead… PHP 3:17 Join with others in following my example, brothers, and take note of those who live according to the pattern we gave you.

Between Two Thieves (Part 2) (Philippians 3:12-21)

What you worship you become.

About a year ago my nephew became enamored—as three-year-olds do—with an app on his mom’s iPhone.  The app functioned as something of a moving storybook, complete with narration.  It even taught him some new words.  But there was one word in particular that seemed a bit out-of-place in his vocabulary: stawk.  Stawk?  Yes; stawk.  It’s a bird, silly.  It’s usually the bird that brings new babies to their home.  Oh…stork.  See, the app my nephew had been enjoying was manufactured across the pond, and the British accent had rubbed off on him.

If that can happen with something as simple as an accent, think of what happens with the things we worship?  And let’s also be clear: everybody worships something.  This was even the point made by David Foster Wallace—a mathematician and author who spoke at Kenyon College’s graduation in 2005:

“Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship. And the compelling reason for maybe choosing some sort of god or spiritual-type thing to worship—be it JC or Allah, be it YHWH or the Wiccan Mother Goddess, or the Four Noble Truths, or some inviolable set of ethical principles—is that pretty much anything else you worship will eat you alive. If you worship money and things, if they are where you tap real meaning in life, then you will never have enough, never feel you have enough. It’s the truth. Worship your body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly. And when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally grieve you. …Worship power, you will end up feeling weak and afraid, and you will need ever more power over others to numb you to your own fear. Worship your intellect, being seen as smart, you will end up feeling stupid, a fraud, always on the verge of being found out. But the insidious thing about these forms of worship is not that they’re evil or sinful, it’s that they’re unconscious. They are default settings.”

Keep in mind, Wallace is hardly a Christian.  But you understand his point, don’t you?  It’s actually not that different from Augustine’s notion of sin: that sin is loving something else higher than God.  The problem—both for my nephew and for us—is that what we worship actually shapes us, whether we want it to or not.

HOPE SEEKING UNDERSTANDING

In yesterday’s post, we looked at Tertullian’s idea of there being “two thieves” of the gospel.  We looked at the way the religious thief replaces the gospel with self-righteousness; today we’ll look at how the un-religious thief replaces the gospel with self-absorption.

But notice, first, what Paul says about his own life.  After pointing out the superiority of knowing Christ,  he observes that this doesn’t actually mean that he himself is superior:

12 Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own.  13 Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead,  14 I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.  15 Let those of us who are mature think this way, and if in anything you think otherwise, God will reveal that also to you.  16 Only let us hold true to what we have attained.  (Philippians 3:12-16)

Much of Christianity is about goal-setting; it’s about hope.  Very often I meet people who say things like, “I tried Christianity; it didn’t work for me,” or perhaps: “I went to church for a while, but it didn’t meet my needs.”  Maybe you’ve said similar things yourself.  But notice the words “work” and “needs” are paired with words like “for me” and “my.”  It’s just another form of self-absorption.

Paul’s attitude is radically different.  For Paul, Christianity isn’t about having it all together.  Christianity is a lifestyle of transformation.  Want to be mature?  says Paul, Then persevere.  If faith is a journey, then nothing will derail our progress like stopping along the freeway.  It’d be like stopping at a roadside diner and calling it a family vacation.  Better things lie ahead—it just takes patience in getting there.

THE NON-RELIGIOUS THIEF

We now turn to the non-religious thief.  Paul starts by inviting his readers to learn from his own life—a life that stands in contrast to those who oppose the gospel through self-interest:

17 Brothers, join in imitating me, and keep your eyes on those who walk according to the example you have in us.  18 For many, of whom I have often told you and now tell you even with tears, walk as enemies of the cross of Christ.  19 Their end is destruction, their god is their belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things.  20 But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ,  21 who will transform our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by the power that enables him even to subject all things to himself. (Philippians 3:17-21)

Do you hear the list of descriptors Paul uses?  We can even list them:

  • Enemies of the cross (v. 18)
  • Their end is their destruction (v. 19)
  • Their god is their belly (v. 19)
  • Their glory is their shame (v. 19)
  • Minds set on earthly things (v. 19)

These verses frame the portrait of someone who worships self instead of God.  As we saw through Wallace’s graduation speech, you don’t even have to believe in God to believe that this kind of attitude is caustic—to yourself and to other relationships.

But wait.  Aren’t some decisions personal?  Society makes progress, after all.  We don’t need to regress to a list of rigid, religiously-motivated restrictions.  What I do in the privacy of my own home—or bedroom—is my own business.  As long as I’m not hurting anyone, what does it matter?

The answer, of course, is found in verse 21: “our citizenship is in heaven.”  For Christians, identity isn’t found in behavior but through relationship.  And yet, this relationship provokes us to alter our behavior.  Why?  Because Christianity teaches us that this world is not all there is.  Therefore there is a higher goal than merely promoting freedom.  There is a higher goal than merely not offending or hurting anyone. So to be an “enemy of the cross” might be little more than a dogged insistence on living life on your own terms.  That’s not citizenship in heaven—that’s being tied to the city of man.

RAZOR’S EDGE

G.K. Chesterton once wrote that there are many ways for Christianity to fall—but only one way for it to remain upright.  If I can blend metaphors here, there are many variations of these two “thieves” of the gospel.  It may be tempting to see the gospel as some sort of “middle ground,” a balance struck between extremes.  But that’s not the case at all.  No; the gospel is a different road altogether—a road that leads God’s people on a new exodus away from the tyranny of self.  It’s about abandoning self-absorption and self-righteousness—nay, all self-interest and pursuing a radical life of self-sacrifice.  It’s why C.S. Lewis writes that “the Christians who did most for the present world were just those who thought most of the next…It is since Christians have largely ceased to think of the other world that they have become so ineffective in this. Aim at Heaven and you will get earth ‘thrown in’: aim at earth and you will get neither” (Mere Christianity, p. 134).

The more we live as citizens of heaven, the more our “accents”—our lifestyles, our stories—will come to be shaped by God’s kingdom rather than our own empires.  Follow self-interest and you’ll never find happiness.  Follow Christ and you’ll find everything you never knew you wanted.

Between Two Thieves (Part 1) (Philippians 3:7-11)

If you take even a casual glance at church history, you’ll see the name Tertullian crop up quite a bit.  Living in the second century, Tertullian gave us much our Christian vocabulary (words like Trinity, for example).  But Tertullian also wrote that there are two “thieves” of the gospel.  Just as Jesus was crucified between two thieves, so too can we find the gospel wedged between two equal and opposite extremes.  We might call the first thief the “religious thief,” because it replaces the gospel with an idol of self-righteousness.  We might call the second thief the “non-religious thief,” because it replaces the gospel with an idol of self-absorption.

We’ll unpack these further as we go, but for now you almost certainly notice what both hold in common: they both focus on self, albeit in different ways.  Do you remember how Augustine defined sin?  The human heart, he said, is a pyramid.  Joy will never be found unless God is at its apex.  Sin is loving anything more than God—and few things are more caustic than self-interest.

So when we examine Paul’s letter to the Philippians, we see him turn his attention to the two “thieves,” the two things that distract us from the gospel.   Today, we turn our attention to the first of these: the religious thief.

HOLY CRAP

Paul had already given his readers a glimpse of his impressive resume (3:1-6).  No one could claim to be more religious than Paul.  But what does Paul think of all this?

7 But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ.  8 Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ  9 and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith–  10 that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death,  11 that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead. (Philippians 3:7-11)

Compared to Christ, what else is there?  I actually hate English Bibles here, because they sugar-coat the force of what Paul is saying.  Verse 8 says “rubbish,” or if you have an older translation, they might go as far as to say “dung.”  But if you read it in Paul’s original Greek, the word is skubala.  Skubala?  According to Daniel Wallace—arguably the world’s leading expert on Greek grammar—the word is (in his words) “roughly equivalent to the English ‘crap, s**t.’”

This is one of those that’s in the Bible?!?!? kinds of moments.  And yes; it is.

Why so harsh?  Why so coarse and vulgar?  It’s simple, really.  Paul is saying that focusing on religious performance is little more than (ahem) “holy crap.”  It’s worthless.  No one ever made it to heaven on “Christian values.”  Again, we have to distinguish between things that are wise, from things that are necessary.  Christian values aren’t bad—in fact, because they reflect God’s character, they can shape our lives in radical ways.  But Christian values never saved anyone.

When Matt Chandler—a pastor in the Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex—was diagnosed with cancer, it gave him a new perspective on the Law.  The Law, he said, is like the MRI machine.  An MRI machine can help diagnose you, can help expose your innermost flaws.  But the MRI machine will never cure you.  And that’s what the Law does, Chandler explains.  When we read the Law—God’s standards revealed to His people—we recognize that we are deeply flawed people.  But the Law can never cure us, and the more we try to cure through obedience, the deeper we sink into our own flaws.  It’s hopeless—unless someone could fulfill the Law for us.

ALIEN RIGHTEOUSNESS

In the sixteenth century, a young monk lay awake tormented by a singular thought: What if I’m not good enough for God?  What if I die without having confessed all my sins?  Maybe you’ve been haunted by a similar question.  The young monk was awakened by the book of Romans—another of Paul’s letters.  In those pages this young monk found the answer he’d been looking for.  Grace wasn’t a reward for religious service, he discovered.  Grace was a free gift of God based solely on God’s love poured out through Jesus.

The young monk’s name was Martin Luther, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Luther would later make a distinction between what he called “active” and “passive” righteousness.  Active righteousness is what comes through the religious thief.  Active righteousness is trying to earn it on my own.  Active righteousness means convincing myself that the (ahem) skubala of my self-righteousness is a fine perfume (hint: it’s not).  Active righteousness will always produce profound psychological, social, and spiritual damage.

I love sushi.  So one night on Netflix I watched the documentary Jiro Dreams of Sushi, which focuses on the career of a world-renowned sushi chef—a man so famous people wait for months for a reservation at his restaurant.  Jiro was deeply dedicated to his craft, so much so that film critic Roger Ebert looked at him with a sense of pity:

“… I found myself drawn into the mystery of this man. Are there any unrealized wishes in his life? Secret diversions? Regrets? If you find an occupation you love and spend your entire life working at it, is that enough?…Half an hour of [preparation] was good enough to win three Michelin stars. You realize the tragedy of Jiro Ono’s life is that there are not, and will never be, four stars.”

Active righteousness produces this same level of perfectionism—and this same level of regret.  Am I good enough?  Am I at least better than that person?   And the list goes on.

That’s why we need to focus on Christ’s passive righteousness.  Luther also called this an “alien” righteousness.  Why?  Because Christ’s righteousness is not unique to me; it comes from outside myself.  Let’s read what Paul said about this again:

“…not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith–  10 that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death,  11 that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead.” (Philippians 3:9b-11)

The gospel isn’t about self-righteousness.  It’s not about “self” at all.  If anything, it’s about the transformed self—a new identity in Christ, and the hope of resurrection from the dead.

“Religion says ‘do this,’ and it is never done,” writes Luther.  “The gospel says ‘believe in this’ and it is already done.”

“Lay your deadly doing down,

Down at Jesus’ feet.

Stand in him and him alone,

Gloriously complete.

It is finished; it is finished.

What more can I ever do?”

(James Proctor, “It is Finished,” 19th Century)

 

The enemies of the gospel (Philippians 3:1-6)

They say that you should be cautious about saving a drowning man.  When a person is drowning, their survival instincts take over.  If you don’t hand them a flotation device, they’ll attempt to climb on top of you, pushing you under to give themselves a breath of oxygen.

Such behavior is excusable at the local pool.

Such behavior is inexcusable at the local church.

It’s human nature to want to be on top.  The whole of life becomes a giant quest for superiority—even in church.  In “Choruses from the Rock,” the poet T.S. Eliot asks:

“Why should men love the Church? Why should they love her laws?…They constantly try to escape from the darkness outside and within, by dreaming of systems so perfect that no one will need to be good.”

In a very real sense, that’s what “religion” boils down to: a “system so perfect no one will need to be good.”  I grew up in the land of evangelical subculture.  Christianity—at least to my mind—became reduced to a list of things to avoid, like R-rated movies, heavy metal music, and the science teacher.  Most of us can probably create a list of “do’s” and “don’ts” that defined our faith at one time or another.

Don’t get me wrong; I’m sure there are some for whom such lists are wise. 

But there is no one for whom such lists are necessary. 

The problem comes when we begin to think of our wise habits as necessary—and impose them on other people.  Can you believe that the Johnsons send their kids to “that” school?  I heard that the Millers like to watch “that” TV show—with their kids!  Someone told me that some of our pastors don’t listen to Christian radio.  And the list goes on, ad infinitum, ad nauseum.  And, you’ll notice, gossip becomes the currency of the comparison game.  We can judge one another’s religious habits and—like the drowning man—push one another down in a way that builds ourselves up.

And you know what?  That’s selfish.  That’s stupid.  And, Paul says, it’s the opposite of the gospel.

JOY REPLACES FEAR

In Philippians 3, Paul’s letter changes course:

Finally, my brothers, rejoice in the Lord. To write the same things to you is no trouble to me and is safe for you.  (Philippians 3:1)

The word “finally” sounds strange—as if Paul’s winding down to his conclusion.  But if you glance at the text, you’ll notice we’re only about halfway through.  What’s Paul saying?  If chapter 2 laid out the theological framework—that is, Christ’s example—then now Paul turns to further explain how that framework operates in the gritty reality of the Church.

“Rejoice,” he says.  Joy, once again, takes center stage in Paul’s letter.  And notice that he says that such a command “is safe for you.”  What’s going on, exactly?  It’s simple.  Paul knows full well that there will always be false teachers lurking in the shadows, waiting to insist on some form of religious ritual as the way to God.  And if you live your life in the shackles of duty, then you live your life in fear.  Am I doing enough for God?  Did I remember to pray for forgiveness for what I said yesterday?  If I live in this frame of mind, my natural tendency is to feel disqualified—as if I’ve let God down in some way.

Paul says No, no, no.  You can’t live your life in fear.  Pursue Christ.  Pursue Godly character.  But never assume that such pursuits earn God’s favor.  Instead, they are a response to God’s already lavish goodness—which is also our source of great joy. 

ENEMIES OF THE GOSPEL

Now Paul can turn his attention to the actual false teachers:

2 Look out for the dogs, look out for the evildoers, look out for those who mutilate the flesh.  3 For we are the circumcision, who worship by the Spirit of God and glory in Christ Jesus and put no confidence in the flesh–  4 though I myself have reason for confidence in the flesh also.  (Philippians 3:2-4a)

One of the problems of Paul’s letters is we don’t always know the full story.  It’s very much like listening to someone else’s phone conversation: we hear the things they say, but since we can’t hear the person on the other line, we’re often lost for context.  The same thing seems to be happening here.  Who were these “dogs,” these “evildoers?”  It’s really not that clear.  The context seems to indicate that Paul is dealing with people who insist that only way to really worship God is through strict obedience to the Law—of which circumcision was a key symbol.  If you’ve been in church for a while, you might know that something similar happened to the Galatian church.

In other words, these were the religious moralists of Paul’s day.  And Paul would never allow such false teachings to supersede the overflowing joy of the gospel.  That’s why “dogs” is such an insult.  Dogs weren’t housepets in Paul’s day; they were unclean, wild animals.  So what is Paul saying?  Maybe you guys aren’t as squeaky-clean as you thought you were…

THE PAST DOES NOT DEFINE THE FUTURE

Paul plays their game—at least temporarily.  He says Wanna play the “religious” card?  I call:

If anyone else thinks he has reason for confidence in the flesh, I have more:  5 circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee;  6 as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless. (Philippians 3:4b-6)

This is basically Paul’s resume.  Let’s pull it apart a little:

  • “Circumcised on the eighth day:” The “eighth day” refers to Paul’s strict conformity to the law (cf. Ge 17:12; Lev 12:3; see also Lk 1:59; 2:21). But in context, it also means that Paul received circumcision before any of the false teachers did.
  • “Of the people of Israel:” Circumcision might lead to religious inclusion (at least in the mind of Paul’s opponents), but Paul was biologically Jewish – shouldn’t this be an even greater reason for superiority?
  • “Of the tribe of Benjamin:” Benjamin was the favored tribe: “beloved of the Lord” (Dt. 33:12).
  • “A Hebrew of Hebrews:” This term might easily be seen as a summation of all the other titles.  A friend of mine paraphrases it (a bit crassly) as “the Jewiest of the Jews.”  The term is simply meant to exaggerate his qualifications.
  • “In regard to the Law, a Pharisee:” Paul uses similar descriptions in Acts 23:6-9; Acts 26:5 and Gal 1:14.  The description means that Paul had devoted himself to the teachings of the law.
  • “As for zeal, persecuting the church:” No one had persecuted the church as much as Paul—certainly not these two-bit false teachers in Philippi.
  • “As to the righteousness in the Law, blameless:” Paul is saying is that he has an unblemished record of keeping the traditions such as circumcision, Sabbath, etc.  Basically Paul is saying that he got the perfect attendance award in Vacation Bible School growing up and he memorized more verses than anyone else in youth group.

In other words, no one can really measure up to Paul’s impressive resume.  Which is good, because Paul says That’s not the point.  Instead he says that there is “no confidence in the flesh.”

Our past does not define our future—not even our religious past.  Instead, Christ’s past accomplishment–an act none of us deserved or could even ask for–defines who we are at present, and through whose Spirit leads us to a greater future.

The gospel destroys our tendency to feel superior over our accomplishments—or inferior over our failures and struggles.  We are sinners, through and through—but we are also redeemed sinners, who live a life of gradual transformation.  Take your eyes off of God’s grace, and you have only your small pile of accomplishments to rule and reign over.  Place your eyes on God’s grace, and you find a source of overflowing joy.