“But whatever were gains to me I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them garbage, that I may gain Christ 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 on the basis of faith.” — Philippians 3:7-9, NIV
What matters most in your life? What things do you value more than anything else? What consumes your time, energy, thoughts, and heart?
If we all take a “value audit” of what we prioritize, we can see what really matters to us: what we pursue, what we protect, and where we find our sense of significance, worth, and identity.
We all probably know what the answer should be. Jesus, of course! But if we examine how we actually spend our time, what consumes our thoughts, what we fear losing most, and what we believe makes us feel secure or fulfilled, do our lives really reflect that answer? Probably not. (It’s okay, you’re not alone!)
In Philippians 3, Paul makes some pretty unique statements about his values. After recounting his extensive religious background, accomplishments, and strict adherence to the law, he declares that everything he once considered valuable is now a loss compared to knowing Christ. Everything.
In verse 8, Paul says that he considers those things garbage compared to gaining Christ. The Greek word used here, skýbalon, refers to reuse or waste. Some older translations even use the word dung (animal poop! — see the KJV). That’s some pretty strong language.
Paul isn’t simply talking about giving up sinful pleasures or worldly possessions. He was talking about the very things that once made him confident in his own righteousness. His upbringing, religious status, knowledge of the law, and accomplishments—things that had formed his identity and given him reason to boast.
Yet, after encountering Jesus on the road to Damascus, he realized none of it could make him righteous before God. In verse 9, he explains that his righteousness comes not from keeping the law, as he once may have believed, but through faith in Christ.
Most of the time, we associate “worldly pursuits” with the classics—money, recognition, success, status, or possessions. But we can just as easily build our identity around our own goodness, knowledge, accomplishments, ministry, or perceived spiritual maturity. We can devote our entire lives to becoming impressive, accomplished, successful, or even good enough in the eyes of God and others, and still miss the divine relationship we were created for.
We were made to know God.
Not just about him. Not even to accomplish great things in his name. We were created for a relationship with him, and everything else in our lives ought to flow from the depth of that relationship and our understanding of his character.
“Now this is eternal life: that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent” (John 17:3, NIV).
Eternal life is knowing the only true God. Jeremiah 9:23-24 warns us against boasting in wisdom, strength, or riches, and instead calls us to boast in understanding and knowing the Lord.
We live in a world that constantly offers us something else to pursue—A better job, a bigger paycheck, a relationship, a degree, a nicer house, financial security, a fancy car, an extravagant vacation life, another accolade, or other things we believe will finally make us feel complete or like we have “arrived.” (Arrived where?)
The world offers countless temporary things to find our worth, security, and identity in. If we depend on those things to make us whole, we will inevitably find ourselves searching for something else. Nothing in this world can give us what only Christ can provide.
Paul understood that. He had already possessed so many of the things his religious world considered “valuable.” Yet, he found that, when compared to knowing Christ, he no longer considered them as gains at all.
Psalm 119 presents a wonderful example of what it looks like to genuinely treasure knowing God. Ironically, it is the longest chapter in Scripture, an acrostic poem divided into 22 sections, which correspond to the letters of the Hebrew alphabet (cool, right?). Throughout its 176 verses, the psalmist continually returns to his love for God’s Word—his law, statutes, commands, precepts, and promises—above all else, in the midst of all circumstances.
Why? Because knowing God’s Word is how we grow in our knowledge of his character, will, and ways.
In Psalm 119:72, the psalmist says that God’s law is more precious to him than “thousands of pieces of silver and gold” (NIV). In verse 127, he expresses that he loves God’s commands “more than gold, more than pure gold” (NIV). And in verse 10, he declares, “I seek you with all my heart” (NIV). (If you have time today, read Psalm 119 and note every time the psalmist declares the importance of God’s Word.)
He doesn’t just want the benefits of knowing God. He wants to know God himself.
Friends, we have to ask ourselves whether that same desire characterizes our relationship with the Lord. Do we genuinely want to know him more? Do we long to understand his character, study his Word, and become more like him? Or have we become more interested in what God can do for us, what he might give us, or what we hope to accomplish with his help?
These aren’t questions we answer once and move on. We must continually examine what we allow to be most valuable in our lives. Paul even recognized that knowing Christ was not a pursuit he had somehow completed:
“I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of his resurrection and participation in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, attaining to the resurrection from the dead. Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 3:10-14, NIV, emphasis added).
This man had already surrendered so much to follow Jesus. Yet his desire remained the same: to know Christ more fully. He understood that what awaited him was greater than anything he could gain or lose in this life. Later, Paul reminds believers that our citizenship is in heaven and that Christ will one day transform our lowly bodies to be like his glorious body (Philippians 3:20-21).
Paul’s confidence was no longer in what he had accomplished, what he possessed, or even what he might still achieve for God. It was in Christ and the hope of resurrection into eternal life with him.
Knowing Christ isn’t something we “fit in” alongside everything else we pursue in this life. Knowing Christ is the very purpose for which we were created, and it should shape how we value everything else.
Today, the question isn’t whether we believe Jesus is the most important thing in our lives. The question is whether what we pursue, the decisions we make, and the priorities we protect actually reflect that belief.
Paul looked at everything he once considered gain and concluded that it all belonged in a manure pile compared to knowing Christ. How would that same perspective change the way we live today?
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