“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” (Philippians 3:13).
The apostle writes to his friends in Philippi from a jail cell in Rome (Phil 1:1314). He got tossed in the slammer for telling fellow Jews that Jesus was the Messiah they’ve been waiting for and that God is now inviting non-Jews into His kingdom. He had devoted himself to telling everyone who will listen about the crazy good grace we have in the resurrected Rabbi/Carpenter from Galilee. Jesus has done for us what we could never ever dream of doing for ourselves. He followed all of God’s rules and regs because we couldn’t. He took the full brunt of God’s punishment for our disobedience in our place. He walked out of the cemetery after being dead for three days just to prove He is the Son of God and that all His promises are true.
As a result, Paul wants his readers to avoid the same potholes he hit. He spent much of his life piling up accomplishments and awards in order to impress God with his religious resume (Phil 3:4-6). But once he met the risen Christ, he suddenly realized all of his achievements weren’t worth a hill of beans (Phil 3:7-8). It’s who Jesus is and what He’s done that really matters. Religion no. Relationship yes. From that point on, the apostle puts the hammer down to tell others about Jesus and does everything possible to truly know his Savior as his closest Friend. Maybe you’ve made the same mistake as our buddy Paul. You’ve tried to dazzle God with your own religious resume. I’ve got some very bad news for you. No matter what you’ve done, it’s never going to be good enough. You can’t go to church enough. You can’t read your Bible enough. You can’t be good. You can’t save yourself. But I’ve also got some VERY Good News. Jesus and His accomplishments are available to you. Toss your trophies in the trash. Trust in what who He is. Trust in what He’s done for you. Take it from Paul. Stop driving with your eyes fixed on the rearview mirror of your so-called goodness. You’re going to get yourself killed.
The apostle tells his Philippian friends that his journey is far from over. “Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own” (v13). First of all, he doesn’t set himself above his fellow Christ followers. He refers to them with a Greek term (Gr. adelphos) which is easily translated as “brothers and sisters.” No arrogance here. Not a hint of “Do this because I’m in charge.” He’s writing to his spiritual siblings. When it comes to knowing Jesus, Paul is just their brother from another mother. This doesn’t mean we don’t have spiritual fathers and children. The Bible is chock-full of them. Those are incredibly important relationships. However most of our connections with fellow believers are as brother and sister.
The man from Tarsus tells the Philippians that he’s not there yet. “I do not consider that I have made it my own” (v13). Paul drops a verb (Gr. katalambano) in the original text which means to grasp completely, seize firmly, or take full possession of something. Looking back at the previous verse, he’s giving it all he has even though what he wants is still just out of reach. “But I press on to make it my own (Gr. katalambano), because Christ Jesus has made me His own (Gr. katalambano)” (Phil 3:12). Our Savior has His kung fu grip on us. We can be sure of that. Because of that, I make it my mission in life to grasp Jesus completely. We’re getting closer but we’re not there yet. You could say this is the first century version of the classic rock song “Radar Love” by Golden Earring.
No more speed, I’m almost there.
Gotta keep cool now, gotta take care.
Last car to pass, here I go!
And the line of cars drove down real slow.
What’s up ahead has Paul’s total attention. He’s not worried that the objects in mirror are closer than they appear. He’s not headed in that direction. He’s speeding toward Jesus. He knows his rearview mirror makes a horrible windshield.
Because I haven’t reached my final destination, the apostle gives me important yet very simple driving instructions. Here’s the “one thing I do” (v13). The Greek literally just reads “but one” (v13). Have a singular focus. Don’t worry about anything else. Your driver’s ed instructor may tell you to keep an eye on your gauges and frequently check your mirrors. That’s certainly important when I’m driving up the interstate. Not on the ultimate road trip toward Jesus. There’s just one thing that matters. There’s a lone focus. “One thing” (v13). If I have more on my list than a single item, I’m doing it wrong. Here’s a little secret. When Jesus is your “one thing,” you don’t have to worry about anything else. No more frantic plate-spinning like some sort of crazy act from “America’s Got Talent.” When Jesus is your “one thing,” He takes care of everything else. When I’ve got my eyes locked on Christ, He watches my gauges.
Just in case something in my mirror has caught my attention, Paul reminds me to not pay it any mind. “Forgetting what lies behind” (v13). He uses a verb, epilanthanomai, which means to neglect, overlook, no longer caring for, or even keep secret. My favorite translation is probably to overlook something. Matt writes about the time he and his buddies road in a boat across the lake and overlooked bringing lunch along. “When the disciples reached the other side, they had forgotten (Gr. epilanthanomai) to bring any bread” (Mt 16:5). Over in Luke, Jesus tells His posse about the value of even the most insignificant of birds and how “not one of them is forgotten (Gr. epilanthanomai) before God” (Lk 12:6). The writer of Hebrews warns, “Do not neglect (Gr. epilanthanomai) to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares” (Heb 13:2). Don’t miss out on rolling out the red carpet for strangers who might be angels. Hmm, does that make them “strangels”? No, I didn’t think so.
But there IS one thing we should ALWAYS overlook. And that, dear friends, is “what lies behind” (v13). Stop living in the past. The rearview mirror of life features two distinct distractions. The first is our glory days. Bruce Springsteen sang all about it. “Glory days, well they pass you by. Glory days, in the wink of a young girl’s eye.” Don’t believe the Boss and me? Just ask Napoleon Dynamite’s Uncle Rico? He was so obsessed with his memories of being a backup quarterback in high school that he couldn’t function as an adult. Maybe he could throw a football over those mountains back in the day, but who gives a hot hoot about that now? Two thousand years before, Paul piled up the awards when he was younger and couldn’t put them down (Phil 3:4-6). He was like the dude who keeps wearing his high school letter jacket years after graduation. Talk about faded glory. On top of that, you look like a dork. Take off the jacket and ignore what’s behind.
The other distraction in life’s rearview is regret. There’s not a person you’ll meet who’s past isn’t loaded with pain. You can’t forget the time you were the victim of a hit-and-run. Someone plowed right over you and left you bleeding on the side of the road. You’re still wearing the tire tracks of your spouse’s betrayal. Bulldozed by a bad boss. A so-called friend left you swinging in the breeze. The hurt seems fresh. But the greatest treatment for my wounds is forgiveness. I can’t do it on my own but that’s where Christ does what He does best. At His lowest moment of betrayal and pain, He pleaded with His Dad, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Lk 23:34). For most of us, one glance back makes it clear that our pain is self-inflicted. My mirror is full of bad decisions I wish I could take back. Relationships I’ve ruined. Lies I’ve told. Time I’ve wasted. Kids I’ve ignored. Dreams I’ve let die. I simply want to make a u-turn and try to fix it. But since I’m not driving Doc Brown’s DeLorean powered by a flux capacitor, that’s not possible. Don’t think Paul had big problems with his past? Before Jesus got ahold of him, he’s job was terrorizing and killing Christ’s followers. Or in his words, “as to zeal, a persecutor of the church” (Phil 3:6). If the Lord can forgive the rap sheet like that, He can certainly handle the regret in your rearview.
Now that we know what NOT to do, the apostle tells us he’s “straining forward to what lies ahead” (v13). The key here is the Greek verb eketeinomai, which describes reaching out toward the goal, stretching way out for something, or giving everything you’ve got to get your hands on something. It literally means “stretch out.” This is no casual reach where you give up easily. Picture a sprinter leaning forward and overextending themselves at the tape. Paul is a lot like Scottie from Star Trek. He’s giving it everything he’s got, Captain! We’re talking intense effort and determined purpose. For the man from Tarsus, he’s absolutely consumed with experiencing more of Christ. More of His love. More of His mercy. More of His grace. He hasn’t gotten there yet. But he’s floored the accelerator to get there as fast as he can. Jesus told one prospective follower not to be worried one bit about what’s off the back bumper. “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God” (Lk 9:62). Paul has ripped the mirror off. He’s only concerned about one thing: exploring and experiencing more of his relationship with Jesus. He’s figured out that when it comes to following Christ, his rearview mirror makes a terrible windshield.
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