Philippians 3:4-3:8
Christianity
and the Bible make a lot of promises. When we tell people about Christ we promise them fulfillment: peace, and joy, and happiness.
We promise them that Christianity is a relationship with Christ that will bring meaning to their life. And we offer all of
the promises of the Bible, because we believe them. So, we ourselves have believed and those we tell believe, expecting to
receive all of these promises. And yet sometimes, it seems that we miss out on them. For all the peace that’s promised,
we experience a lot of turmoil. For the joy that’s promised, we experience grief. Instead of fulfillment we find emptiness.
And we wonder why all of this is happening. Why aren’t we experiencing God’s promises? Why does Christianity feel
like a restriction instead of liberation?
Sometimes,
after getting the message straight, our actions become reversed. We spend so much time working through our religion, that
we forget the heart of our “religious practices.” Define for yourself, “What is it to be a Christian?”
If we were to ask the world, they would probably come up with something like: “People who go to church every week and
don’t do a whole lot.” That’s expected of the world. If you were to poll Christians today on what a “good
Christian” is like, you would probably get an answer that includes believing in Jesus, going to church, being baptized,
reading the Bible, praying every day, and a whole list of things they probably don’t do. And all of these things that
I’ve just named have two things in common. First, none of them are bad things. Indeed, they are characteristics of a
Christian life. But the other common aspect is that none of these things are the end goal of the Christian life. While these
things can indeed be meaningful and beneficial, they can also be ritualistic and empty. Our satisfaction in life, all of the
things that are promised, cannot be found in empty ritual. And so, if our faith, our view of Christianity is following these
rituals, we will never find the promises of God fulfilled in our lives.
The Apostle
Paul knew religion better than anybody. In Philippians 3:4-6, he explained his religious experience like this: “If anyone else thinks he has 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 legalistic righteousness, faultless.”
Paul
was dedicated to his religious experience. Now we often fail at these rituals. We forget to pray or read the Bible—or
we miss
church—and we think that if only we could get ourselves to be more
faithful, everything would be better. Have you ever said to yourself, “If only I read the Bible more often… If
only I prayed more faithfully… my life would get so much better.” Please don’t think that I’m trying
to convince you today to stop reading the Bible or praying. But these things in and of themselves—especially when completed
out of a sense of mere obligation—are not the answer.
I remember
when I was a kid, I used to pray every night before I went to sleep. I didn’t pray because I was in love with Jesus
and just had to talk to him before I went to bed. I prayed because I was convinced that if some tragedy fell upon me in the
middle of the night and I had failed to pray, then surely I would go straight to hell. And recently, I was reflecting back
on that time while in prayer, and I came to a realization. This may come as a shock to some, but I don’t pray every
single night before I go to sleep. There are nights when I forget, or nights when I’m just too tired. But I was reflecting
one night and I realized something. How much more precious my prayer must be to God now. Sure I miss sometimes. Sure it’s
imperfect, but when I don’t forget it’s birthed not out of a need to pray, but out of my intense love for my Savior.
Do you think that God would rather hear a tape recorder every night, parroting something that doesn’t come from the
heart, or would he rather the earnest outpouring of an imperfect heart?
In fact,
Paul, who did pray every day and who did read and study the Holy Scriptures regularly and who kept the Law, came to one conclusion
about all these things, which he gives in vs. 7 and 8: “But whatever
was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I
consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus as my Lord, for whose sake I have
lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ.”
So, then
if simply following the ritual doesn’t bring the satisfaction, then maybe it is a problem of the heart. Maybe like the
contrast between my prayer of obligation as a child and my prayer from a heart of devotion is the answer. How about when we
don’t follow the rituals out of a sense of obligation, but with a passionate heart we go to church, with a passionate
heart we pray and read the Bible, and with zeal we follow God’s ways? Is the answer that we have to do all of these
things from a committed heart? The answer must be a resounding NO, because Paul himself confessed in vs. 6 that he was a zealous
follower of the Law. He zealously kept his rituals. But they still brought him nothing but emptiness.
There
were these two brothers who went to New York for the 9/11
observances. While they were there they both wanted to see the Statue of Liberty. One brother was willing to pay $8.00 to
go to Liberty Island, but as sometime is, the other brother was too cheap and decided to
take the Staten Island Ferry instead. The Staten Island Ferry had a big sign at the entry point that said, “The Staten
Island Ferry is free, but does not stop at the Statue of Liberty.” The
ferry does not pass close to the Statue so you can see it up close.
Now let’s
imagine for a moment that this cheap brother was a bit foolish and he decided that he would step more passionately on the
Ferry. He really felt in his heart to go to Liberty Island on the Ferry. He would make an
impassioned plea to the captain to stop at Liberty Island to let him off. But no matter how
passionate the brother is about getting to the island, unless he jumped off the
Ferry and swam to shore, he wasn’t getting to the island from that ferry. It wouldn’t matter is he was so zealous
that he rode back and forth all day, he would accomplish nothing more than discovering that none of the Staten Island Ferry
boats stop at Liberty Island. His passion would be wasted. His zeal would go unrewarded. Why? Because he was on the wrong
ferry.
Now,
let’s say that this cheap brother really wasn’t passionate about going Liberty Island,
but he got on the $8.00 Statue of Liberty boat. He would have gotten there, whether
he was zealous about it or not. Passion and zeal don’t determine where
you’re going. It only determines how passionately you’re going to get there.
Religious
ritual is a ferry that simply doesn’t stop on Fulfillment, Peace, or Joy
Island. It doesn’t reach the shore of the Promises of God. Religious
ritual only leads to Empty Island.
And if you’re zealous or passionate about religious ritual, you’ll end up passionately on Empty Island. Maybe you know that Staten Island is NYCs trash dump. And that’s exactly where religious ritual will get you, is the
trash dump of the Island of Emptiness.
If you
want the promises of God, you have to get on the right ferry. And what ferry is that? It’s the experience that Paul
had, recorded in Acts 9, a personal and real encounter with the Risen Christ. And he sums up this experience in vs. 8, which
we’ve already read, when he tells of the “priceless gain of knowing Christ.” Paul had a personal encounter.
All the years of religious ritual brought him nothing but emptiness. But one moment in time with the Master, brought him fulfillment
beyond anything he could have imagined. The Ferry to Joy, and Peace, and Fulfillment is none other than the Person of Jesus
Christ.
These
other things, going to church, reading the Bible, praying, they’re all good things. They’re good as long as they
are not the end goal, but are instead means to the end. These things are designed not to be what we seek to become, but instead
they are the things that can bring us close to Christ so we can have that intimate and personal encounter with Him. Going
to church is not something we do to earn points with God, but because Jesus said in Matthew 18:20, “For where two
or three come together in my name, there am I with them,” We read the
Bible not because it gives us some higher standing with God, but because Jesus is the very Word of God and the Bible is the
means by which God chose to reveal himself to us. We don’t find Jesus so that we can read the Bible, we read the Bible
so that we can find Jesus. And surely we don’t pray out of ritual, but we do so because it is communication, even communion,
with the one whom we love so dearly, our Lord, Jesus Christ. Prayer can be a meaningless ritual or it can be the encounter
with God that we so desperately need.
Please
notice with me that when Paul speaks of knowing Christ, he’s not talking about some great theological understanding
of God. He’s not talking about some great epiphany or revelation that he has realized. There are many false religions
that will tell you that knowledge is the key to salvation. I believe in education. I like education. In fact, Christians are
commended for studying the Scriptures diligently in the Book of Acts. However, it is not education or knowledge that saves.
The knowing Christ that Paul speaks of, the knowledge that is so great that everything else becomes trash in light of it,
is not book knowledge or an intellectual knowledge but a personal, intimate, relationship knowledge of Christ.
So many
times, I’ve reflected on Christ and what he has done for me. Some things are tangible—like healings and provisions.
Some things are intangible—like times when he has filled my heart with peace and joy. I think of my life before I knew
Christ and what my life was like and how my life has come alive is now that He is my Lord and Savior. In those moments when
my heart is filled with love, I want one thing. More than anything, I try to think of a way to convey those experiences to
others. I look out and I see people who have not touched Jesus, people who have not had that personal encounter—or maybe
did but it was so long ago that it doesn’t sustain them anymore. These people are trying so hard to find it in the rituals,
and they’re getting frustrated because they don’t see it. And I just want to convey a little bit of “knowing”
Christ to those people. I want to let them know how deeply meaningful “knowing” Jesus is. Because I just know
that if they only knew what I know, then they would find the fulfillment and joy that I have found.
And every
time I think this way, I come to the same conclusion: I can’t do it. I can’t give them my experiences. There are
no words in language to express the knowledge of Christ. We can try, and we do. Others, more eloquent than I, have captured
at least some of it. But what I have realized is this. Everyone has to experience Christ for themselves. My experiences are
not good enough for you. And your experiences are not good enough for me. Each of us must have our own encounter with Jesus
Christ. It is not enough to know him through the limits of knowing others’ experiences of him, but you must have your
own experience of him. We must each, as the Psalmist says in Psalm 34:8, “Taste and see that the LORD is good; blessed
is the man who takes refuge I Him.” Surely we can share our knowledge.
But to what end? Only to encourage one another to experience Christ for ourselves. Too often we try to substitute the experiences
of others. But they are not sufficient. The end goal of all our intellectual knowledge of Christ must be one thing: a personal,
experiential knowledge of Christ. It is not the idea of Jesus Christ that brings fulfillment, but it is Jesus Christ himself.
In Luke
24:13-15 we read, “Now on the same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from
Jerusalem. They
were talking with each other about everything that had happened. As they talked
and discussed these things with each other, Jesus himself came up and walked along with them; but they were kept from recognizing
Him.”
Jesus
had just been crucified. It was a horrible moment for all of his followers. They had lived the past three days not only in
despair, but in fear that they would be next. And in the midst of this devastation, there is Good News for these two. They
are in the presence of the Risen Lord. Jesus himself comes and stands by them. What a change in circumstance. What a time
for their cloudy day to turn to sunshine. But they do not recognize that it is he. And the reason is given in verse 16 as
“they were kept from recognizing him.” We could read this,
and put all of the blame on God for not recognizing him. But remember that God is also the one who hardened Pharaoh’s
heart against Moses and God. But that didn’t vindicate Pharaoh. He was still responsible for his actions. I don’t
believe that God controls us like puppets or robots. Therefore, if they didn’t recognize Jesus, then what is the reason
that God did not allow them to recognize him? I think that several reasons can be seen from the passage why they did not recognize
Jesus although he was standing right there with them.
The followers
of Jesus, including the 11 disciples and the faithful members of the multitude were devastated when Jesus was crucified. Their
expectations of Jesus were very high. They were summed up in Luke 24:19b-21, “He was a prophet, powerful in word
and deed before God and all the people. The chief priests and our rulers handed
him over to be sentenced to death, and they crucified him; but we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel. And
what is more, it is the third day since all this took place.”
They
had high hopes for this Jesus. And three days before, all hope was lost. There world had come crashing down. All the expectation
that had developed over the past 3 ½ years of Jesus’ ministry was just destroyed. They thought he would be the Messiah.
They thought he would save them, but he had let them down. He had been killed, and so now they would have to go back to the
lives that they were trying to escape through this Jesus. They were depressed. They were crushed and wounded. In fact, I think
we can see the depths of their despair when they continue their explanation. In vs. 17, they were described like this, “They
stood still, their faces downcast.” And basically Jesus had asked them what they were so sad about. Now everything
I’ve said so far can explain their sadness. They expected Jesus to save them and he had died. That’s certainly
a good reason to be sad—at least if you didn’t understand God’s plan. If they had stopped there, it would
have seemed normal. But their next statement sets off warning bells for me. For they continued to explain why they were sad
by saying,
Luke
24:22-24, “In addition, some of our women amazed us. They went to the
tomb early this morning but didn’t find his body. They came and told us
that they had seen a vision of angles, who said he was alive. Then some of our
companions went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said, but him they did not see.”
Why did
this make them sad? Here was the most joyous news of all time: Jesus Christ had risen from the dead! It’s news that
millennia later still thrills the souls of billions around the world. And yet they gave this as the reason for their sadness.
And here next to them was walking this very Risen Lord. The very answer to all their sadness and depression was with them.
All they had to do was reach out and touch him—be it physically or spiritually—they just needed an encounter with
Jesus on the road, and everything would be okay. Listen to me—GOD SENT THE ANSWER TO THEIR NEED! God sent the answer
for their troubled hearts. But they were so busy wallowing in self-pity that I believe they failed to have the encounter planned
for them that day. They may have been asking themselves, like we so often do in times of trouble, “God where are you?
Where are you in all this?” And there he was standing right next to them. He was within reach, and yet they weren’t
reaching out. Now, in spite of this, Jesus did eventually reveal himself to them briefly.
But I
find their discussion after he disappeared very insightful. They made the statement that their hearts were “strangely
warmed” when they were walking with him. This reminds me of how we sometimes act. We’re so desperate to receive
something from God, and when we don’t receive something tangible, we try to at least settle for something emotional.
We become satisfied with “feeling” the presence of the Spirit and getting goose bumps or chills. We become satisfied
with some sort of manifestation like being slain in the Spirit or shaking or whatever else we view as a sign of the Spirit’s
presence. I’m not against any of these things, when they’re indicators of the genuine work of the Holy Spirit
deep inside us. But when we settle for or even begin to seek these emotional experiences, we may miss out on the deeper touch,
or the deeper healing that God had planned for us. The men on the road to Emmaus had “strangely warmed” hearts,
but who know what else God had in store for them that day. Let’s not sell ourselves short. Let’s not keep grasping
at emotional crumbs when Jesus offers us the whole spiritual loaf.
The next
encounter I want to look at briefly is Peter’s encounter with the Risen Lord. Peter remember was the one who had denied
Christ three times. I can’t imagine the turmoil in his heart knowing that he had abandoned the One he had promised he
would follow to death. I only know that if I had done that to someone, if they came back to life, I’d probably want
to run as far away from them as I could. I imagine the thought must have run through Peter’s mind too. Certainly he
would have anxiety about his first meeting with Jesus after denying him.
Precisely
for this reason, Peter had a great need. He needed to receive forgiveness, restoration, and healing from Jesus. And when John
recognized that Jesus was on the shore, John 21:7b says he “jumped into the water.” Perhaps he couldn’t wait. Perhaps he didn’t want to miss out. Maybe he thought that Jesus could
disappear at any moment. But whatever the reason, he knew that he needed a touch from Jesus, and nothing was going to get
in his way. He saw Jesus and he did what it took to get to him. He couldn’t wait for the boat to get there. He couldn’t
wait with everyone else. He had to press ahead of the pack and make his way to Jesus. He was getting his touch from Jesus
and nothing could stop him.
Intense
need calls for intense measures. Peter got what he needed from Jesus that morning. He received the forgiveness and reconciliation
he needed. Jesus charged him with caring for his sheep and revealed some of his future to him. Then he made a simple statement
that showed that everything was okay between Peter and Jesus. In vs. 19 he simply said, “Follow me.”
Conclusion:
I don’t
know the needs of your heart today. Some may have pain so intense that I couldn’t even imagine what you bear. Someone
may feel dirty or guilty, like they need forgiveness from Jesus today. Another may be full of anxiety. Others may have more
tangible needs like sickness or financial needs. Some may need to find forgiveness for someone else who has hurt them. Others
may have accepted Christ and gone through the rituals of church, but never had a real encounter with Jesus Christ. Maybe you’re
following Christianity, because someone else told you how great it is, but you’ve never experienced the greatness for
yourself.
Even
though I don’t know the need, I know the answer. I can’t give you some formula to recite and your problems will
go away. I can’t offer some great intellectual answer. But I can give you the solution that is so simple that it’s
hard to believe. There was a children’s song when I was a kid and it says this;
Reach out and touch the Lord as he goes by
You’ll find he’s not too busy to hear your hearts cry
He’s
passing by the this moment, your needs he’ll supply
Reach out and touch the Lord as he goes by.
It’s
up to you. You can add this sermon to your list of things you know about Jesus. You can all smile and pretend that it was
a great sermon and go home and be the same. Or you can forget about me now and answer Jesus’ invitation, “Come
to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28) He’s here now. Right
now, he’s here. That’s not just some theology. That’s not just something written down. It’s real.
The One who died and rose for you is here now and he wants to touch you. Won’t you press in and let him have your life.