Philippians 3:12-16

 

HOOKED IN THE HEART

By: Scott Grant

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The line of light

 

            The main character in David James Duncan’s novel “The River Why” has a visionary experience near the end of the book. Gus Orviston has just hooked a huge salmon on very light fishing line. He wanted to play the fish, not land it. And play it he does, following the salmon up the river for seven miles. Along the way, he develops a deep affinity for the salmon. At the end he places his face in the water, coming face to face with the fish. He cradles the salmon in his hand and gently releases it. By this time, it’s the middle of the night. We pick up the story, as narrated by Gus:

            I found myself on a rise about seven miles upstream from my cabin. The road was empty. I walked a long way, watching the moon expand and redden and sink. For a while as I walked I tried to think about what had happened, but I was too tired, too wet and cold.

            The sky began to grow light in the east behind me. I just walked and watched. Mist clung to the river as sunlight crept over the Coast Range. The road was white with frost: it shone like a strip of moon surface in the early light, running from east to west like the horizontal bar of a cross. The entire valley hovered, still, before me. Somewhere a raven called …

            And then I felt it – a sharp pain in the heart, like a hook being set. I whirled around: sunlight struck me full in the face. My eyes closed.

            And then I saw it – the vertical bar – a line so subtle it must be made of nothing nameable. And it ran from my heart of earth and blood through my head, to the sky; ran like a beam of watery light; ran from the changing, flowing forms of world to a realm that light alone could enter. But my pain grew sharper: mad with joy, I sank to my knees on the white road,

            and I felt the hand, resting like sunlight on my head. And I knew that the line of light led not to a realm but to a Being, and that the light and the hook were his, and that they were made of love alone. My heart was pierced. I began to weep. I felt the Ancient One drawing me toward him, coaxing me out of this autumn landscape, beckoning me on toward undying joy.

            The hand was lifted. The nameless presence faded, and the light around me blended with the sunlight I knew. But in my heart the wound stayed, and the good hurt. I rose from the road, brushed off my knees, wiped my eyes and drew breath. Then I walked – though I knew that from this point on the road, and from this point in my soul, there was no escape, nowhere to go. 1

            Gus’s vision relates to what he’s just experienced. Only this time, he’s the salmon, and God has hooked him. In this scene the “Ancient One” paints a cross with the horizontal bar of mist and the vertical line of light. Christ hooks us with his love. He draws us toward him, coaxing us out of whatever landscape we’re dwelling in, beckoning us on toward undying joy. Many of us have felt this hook. We have seen where the line leads. We have felt the hand of the Ancient One. For us, there is no going back, only forward. We must press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus has taken hold of us. We press on that we might know Christ fully. Yet sometimes, we get complacent. It is for us that Philippians 3:12-16 was written.

 

            Philippians 3:12-16:

[12] Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. [13] Brothers, 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, [14] I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. [15] All of us who are mature should take such a view of things. And if on some point you think differently, that too God will make clear to you. [16] Only let us live up to what we have already attained.

 

Pressing on to win the prize

 

            Paul here may be speaking against pagan religions that offer perfection now without suffering. Also, there was some confusion in the early church concerning the presence of the kingdom of God. The fact that it had been inaugurated but not consummated took some explaining. Some people confused inauguration with consummation. Paul realizes that his story in verses 4 through 11 could be open to misinterpretation. So he says he has not “obtained all this,” which he further qualifies as being “made perfect.” He has not arrived at the final goal of knowing Christ fully, which will be realized when he is resurrected from the dead.

Instead of being satisfied with his relationship with Christ, Paul says, “I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.” The word translated “press on” (dioko), used here as part of a race analogy, can also be translated “pursue” or “persecute.” In fact, Paul said earlier in Philippians 3 that he was at one time a “persecutor” (diokon) of the church.  While Paul was pursuing followers of Jesus, Jesus was pursuing him. When Jesus took hold of Paul, he told him, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” (Acts 9:4). Now that Christ Jesus has taken hold of him, Paul is pursuing something different. What is it that Christ has taken hold of him for? It’s the “prize” Paul talks about in verse 14, which is full knowledge of Christ, which he will not attain until the resurrection. Christ has taken hold of Paul that Paul might one day fully take hold of him. Christ has placed in the heart of Paul partial knowledge and the hope of full knowledge. In this way, he pulls Paul along. Paul responds by pressing on.

            In light of this, Paul says in verse 13 that there is one thing he doesn’t do and one thing he does do. First, he doesn’t consider himself has having taken hold of full knowledge of Christ. Second, he forgets what is behind and strains forward to what is ahead.

Paul, both by heritage and achievement, was an elite Jew (verses 4 through 6). Before meeting Christ, he considered, literally, these “things” valuable (verse 7). Now Paul wants to forget, literally, these “things” (verse 13). Earlier, they gave him a sense of identity. In one sense, he could remember such achievements with pride. In another sense, now that he has come to Christ, he could remember such achievements with guilt, especially inasmuch as persecution of the church was one of his “achievements” (verse 6). Perhaps at different times, his past achievements may attract him because of pride or burden him because of guilt. Either way, whether they are attractive or burdensome, Paul forgets them. Instead, he applies his mental energies to “straining toward” what is ahead –full apprehension of Christ. In the race, he doesn’t look back, only forward.

            In verse 14, Paul explains what motivates him in this race, once again using the verb translated “press on” (dioko). In the games, the “goal” was the marker at the finish line. The prize, a palm branch, was given by the president of the games, who summoned the victor at the conclusion of the race. The prize for Paul is, literally, the “heavenward calling of God in Christ Jesus.” After his death, Paul expects to be summoned by God himself, as revealed in Christ Jesus. There may be some other equivalent to the palm branch, something like hearing God say, “Well done, good and faithful servant” (Matthew 25:23), but Paul doesn’t elaborate. For him, the prize is simply being in the presence of Christ.

 

 The soul’s paradox of love

 

            This passage tells us that we haven’t arrived. Yet sometimes we think an act as if we’ve come to some kind of spiritual living room where we can kick back and relax. We’ve settled into a couch from which our spiritual lives can almost be run automatically. We program our spiritual lives like we program our VCRs, and with just about as much passion. We push a few buttons to keep things going, but that’s about it. If we’ve settled into such a mode, we’ve deadened our appetite for Christ.

            A mark of someone who is a follower of Jesus is that he is not satisfied. Having tasted of Christ, he wants more of Christ. And he will not rest until he rests in the eternal presence of Christ. He will not stop running until he wins the prize. A.W. Tozer says, “To have found God and still to pursue Him is the soul’s paradox of love, scorned indeed by the too-easily-satisfied religionist, but justified in happy experience by the children of the burning heart. 2

But if one day we will know Christ fully, why do we need to pursue him now? If such a question is seriously entertained, one might have cause to question whether he knows Christ in the first place. If we take it easy now, what does that say about our desire for Christ? It might say that we don’t desire Christ at all. The evidence that you have Christ is that you want more of him. If you don’t want more of him, the time has come for you to meet with God and talk this over with him.

Christ takes hold of us that we might pursue him. On the one hand, we can expect to always sense a sort of holy dissatisfaction with life that causes us to want something more. On the other hand, Christ has seized our hearts that we might seek that “something more” in him. In some sense, do you feel dissatisfied? Does it feel as if something has seized your heart and won’t let you go? Christ Jesus is calling you to run for the prize of knowing him fully and eternally.

            If you feel impeded in the race of knowing Christ, something from your past may be slowing you down. Past achievements may cause you to reside in the glory days of yore instead of pressing on to the glory days of Christ. You may long for a past where the lines were easier to draw and indulgence was easier to justify. Or the failures or sins of the past may haunt you. Dwelling in the past can make you smug because of achievements; wistful because of predictability, innocence and indulgence; or hopeless because of failure and guilt. In these ways, the past can hold us back.

The past should be remembered, but not in these ways. We visit the past to remember the great things God has done for us so that we might live in the present and press on toward the future. The trophies will rust. Predictability, innocence and indulgence are illusory companions. Past failures, if reversed, would bring you only fleeting glory, and the sins of the past have been washed away by the blood of Christ. Let go of the past, and get back in the race. “Don’t look back,” said Satchel Paige, the old baseball pitcher. “Something might be gaining on you.”

            We must turn from the past and lean in to the future, for that’s where Christ waits, at the end of the race. That’s when he will call us heavenward, and that’s when we will rise to meet him, and that’s when the King will rise to give us the prize of himself. Even now, we can hear the call in our hearts and picture the scene with our imaginations. Such a call and such a picture pull us ceaselessly forward.

What ‘mature’ people do

 

            The word translated “mature” (teleios) in verse 15 is the adjective that stems from the verb translated “made perfect” (teleioo) in verse 12. Paul has just said that he has not been made perfect, or mature. Yet now he says what all of those who are perfect, or mature, should do. He must be using irony. No one is perfected in this life, although the pagan influences and confusion regarding the inauguration and consummation of the kingdom of God may lead the Philippians to think they’ve been perfected – that in some sense they have arrived. The view that such “perfect” or “mature” people should take is the one Paul has just been advocating: pressing on toward full knowledge of Christ. Paul is saying, “Well if you’ve arrived, the view you should take is that you haven’t arrived.” One is in some sense “mature” when she recognizes that she’s not fully mature and therefore presses on toward full maturity, which is full knowledge of Christ.

            Paul allows that they may have a different view of life than the one he’s been depicting in Philippians 3. In fact, he must be instructing them because different views were pervasive. He has told them the truth, in general terms, but he leaves it to God to give them the specific understanding they need.

            However, Paul says there is something for which they don’t need to wait on God: “what we have already attained.” Precisely what Paul means by this phrase is difficult to determine. Perhaps what has been attained is revelation from God, as elucidated in Philippians 3, that both Paul and the Philippians have apprehended. If this is the case, Paul is telling the Philippians to live based on the understanding God has given them of the truths revealed in Paul’s narrative.

 

Adventure in faith

 

            If we think we’ve arrived at a comfortable spiritual destination, here’s what we need to do: leave that place. That’s what “mature” people do. They’re not satisfied. They press on. They want more of Christ. If we think we’ve arrived, it probably means that we’ve got just enough of Jesus to satisfy some spiritual “responsibility” but not so much of him that he threatens the way we live.

            Paul, through the narrative of his own life, instructs us, but allows that it is God who gives understanding. He says to Timothy, “Reflect on what I am saying, for the Lord will give you insight into all this” (2 Timothy 2:7). All the biblical writers instruct us, of course. Some of it confuses us, and we wonder how it applies to our lives. We must apply our minds when we read and study and listen to the word. No matter how much we learn, it’s not going to be as much as we’d like to learn. We want to learn more. So we press on. As we press on, God gives us insight when we need it. The insight we receive, we don’t receive all at once. God reveals it to us bits and pieces. He gives us what we need when we need it.

            Many of us think that there is some crucial key to life we’re not grasping. We think this because we’re dissatisfied. Of course, we’re supposed to be dissatisfied so that we might press on to know Christ more fully. Nevertheless, we think there must be some magic key out there somewhere that opens the door to satisfaction. Others seem to be satisfied, so the key must be out there. Maybe there isn’t one big key. Maybe there are a whole bunch of little keys that God places in our paths that allow us to open the series of doors we confront in life. God shows us a key, we open a door and we continue on our journey, moving closer to Christ. Then he shows us another key, and so on.

Seen from this point of view, life is an adventure to be enjoyed instead of a puzzle to be solved. Once you’ve seen God show you a few of these keys, you pick up on this approach to life. A closed door becomes not so much reason for despair but reason for waiting expectantly on the Lord. If you don’t understand something, wait on God. If you need to know it, he’ll reveal it to you when you need to know it.

The keys that God has given us add up to “what we’ve already attained.” We must “live up to,” or live on the basis of, this insight. This collection of keys represents the history of God’s faithfulness and helps us to develop an outlook that sees life as an adventure in faith.

 

The rest of the story

 

            In “The River Why,” Gus is hooked by God near the end of the book. When the book ends, Gus is still a young man. We are left to imagine how the rest of his story might turn out. How about the rest of your story? Christ is beckoning you on toward the undying joy of appearing before him at the end of the story. What will you do now, with a hook in your heart and dissatisfaction in your soul?

 

SCG / 4-7-02