To Know God

This summer, we are diving into the book of Philippians together! This letter is filled with joy as Paul communicates with his dear friends at the church in Philippi. This week, we are examining Philippians 3:7-12 and seeing what the first priority is for disciples of Christ!

From Treasure to Trash

We’ve all heard the phrase, “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.” But the apostle Paul flips it: what he once called treasure, he now considers trash — no, worse than trash. In Philippians 3, Paul uses the Greek word skúbalon, a term that could be translated as garbage, sewage, or even excrement, to describe all his religious achievements and personal righteousness compared to the surpassing worth of knowing Christ.

It’s like trading a Lamborghini for a lawnmower. That’s how radical the shift is. Have you ever done a closet clean-out and found something you loved in 2003—only to wonder how you ever wore it? Or looked at an old photo and cringed: “Did I really have frosted tips?” Paul’s doing a spiritual version of that. All his religious trophies — his resume, his reputation, his rule-following — are now laughable, outdated relics.

What would you think if you came into my office for a meeting, and there sitting on my desk, was my kindergarten perfect attendance award? You wouldn’t think very highly of me. Why? Because that may have meant something to my 6 year old self…but now, it’s useless. Paul realized that his spiritual “trophies” and accolades had no eternal value next to knowing Christ.

What trophies are you holding onto? Accomplishments? Morality? Reputation? If they compete with Jesus in your heart, it’s time to throw them out. Compared to Christ, all of it is rubbish.

Righteousness Isn’t Earned - It’s Received

This is the very heart of the gospel—the stunning reality that righteousness isn’t something we achieve through effort, but something we receive by grace through faith in Jesus Christ. Paul once clung to his spiritual résumé: heritage, law-keeping, moral zeal. But then he met Jesus — and everything changed. What the world saw as treasure, Paul saw as trash, because nothing could be allowed to cloud the gift of Christ’s righteousness. 

He says in Philippians 3:9 that he considered it all as loss so that he might “be found in Him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ.” That’s the great exchange: trading self-righteousness for Christ-righteousness. Self says “do”; Christ says “done.” That’s justification by faith — a legal declaration by God where the guilty are declared righteous because of Jesus. 

It’s not because you’re innocent; it’s because Jesus paid your penalty. Imagine standing before God in filthy rags — your best efforts — and Jesus steps in, removes them, and wraps you in His perfect robe. Now, God sees you as spotless. This truth humbles the proud and lifts the broken. You don’t earn this righteousness. You receive it. And once you do, it replaces performance with peace. It produces gratitude-driven obedience. It puts an end to striving and starts true rest. Many still think being “good enough” earns God’s favor. But there’s no such thing. That’s the bad news—but the good news is better: Jesus was good enough in your place. And now, Paul’s greatest desire echoes into our hearts: “I want to know Christ.” Not just His blessings — but Him. This is the Gospel.

A Believer’s Greatest Desire is to Know Christ

What is the deepest desire of a true believer? It's not comfort, safety, ministry success, or even to see our children grow up strong in the Lord—though all of those are good and godly desires. At the core, the greatest longing of a redeemed heart is this: to know Christ. Paul says in Philippians 3:10, “That I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and may share in His sufferings…” After decades of walking with Jesus, writing Scripture, planting churches, and enduring persecution, Paul still longed not for results, but for relationship. He wanted to know Jesus more deeply, even if it meant suffering with Him.

You can trace this longing throughout the Bible. Moses, who had seen God’s power in miracles, cried out, “Show me Your glory” (Exodus 33:18). David, the warrior-king, wrote, “As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for You, O God” (Psalm 42:1). Even Jesus said in John 17:3, “This is eternal life: that they know You, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom You have sent.” Eternal life isn’t just about heaven someday — it’s about knowing God now.

When someone is truly born again, the Spirit of God awakens a new hunger—not just to know about God, but to know Him. Paul uses the Greek word ginosko, a word that speaks of deep, personal, experiential knowledge. He’s not talking about Bible trivia. He’s talking about intimacy. We can attend church, quote Scripture, and still not know Christ. It’s like saying you know Tom Brady because you’ve watched his games. Unless you’ve actually spent time with him, you only know about him. Sadly, that’s the state of much of cultural Christianity today. We honor God with our lips, but our hearts are far from Him (Isaiah 29:13).

Knowing Christ means walking with Him through victory and suffering. Paul says he wants to know “the power of His resurrection,” which brings new life, freedom from sin, and boldness. But he also wants to “share in His sufferings” — not because suffering is good, but because intimacy with Jesus often grows deepest in hardship. Paul even says he wants to become “like Him in His death.” In other words, to follow Christ fully means dying to self — daily laying down pride, sin, and personal ambition.

Paul hadn’t “arrived” yet, and neither have we. But like Paul, we press on—not to earn salvation, but because Christ has already taken hold of us. True Christianity is not about success, comfort, or even outward behavior. It’s about Jesus. To know Him, walk with Him, and be transformed by Him — that is the believer’s greatest desire.

Still in Process & Still in Pursuit

Paul—the apostle, church planter, and writer of much of the New Testament—boldly says, “I haven’t arrived.” He’s still in process and still in pursuit. That confession frees us from pretending to be perfect and reminds us to never stop chasing after Christ. Paul’s desire wasn’t casual, it was passionate and relentless. He didn’t just want resurrection power; he wanted to know Christ even in suffering. His faith wasn’t built on comfort or easy answers. His pursuit left him with scars—physical reminders of a life laid down for Jesus.

Knowing Jesus means trusting Him when life hurts, worshiping Him when things don’t make sense, and loving Him when there’s nothing left but Him. And Paul says, “I press on.” Not to earn Jesus, but because Jesus already claimed him.

You don’t have to have it all together — Paul didn’t either. But like him, if you’ve been captured by grace, keep chasing the One who chased you down.

Where are you in this? Maybe you’ve known religion, but not relationship. Maybe you’ve followed rules, but not walked with Jesus. Today, press on—not for blessings, but for Jesus Himself. The greatest desire of a believer is simply this: to know Him. Daily. Deeply. Even through pain.

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Philippians Week 6: July 13th, 2025. Preached by Ben Dieterly

Article Edited by Julia Castro