For it is we who are the circumcision, we who serve God by his Spirit, who boast in Christ Jesus, and who put no confidence in the flesh—though I myself have reasons for such confidence. If someone else thinks they have 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 righteousness based on the law, faultless. But whatever were gains to me I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. (Philippians 3:3-7)

No confidence in the flesh, Paul says. As Pastor Michael talked about yesterday, Paul speaks here pretty firmly against any sort of “Jesus-and” sort of faith. Like a faith that says salvation comes by Jesus, and circumcision. Or Jesus, and following the law. Or Jesus, and good worship. Or Jesus, and good kid’s programs. Or Jesus, and good ethics. Certainly some of these things have their place in the life of the church and the life of the Christian—but they have no place in securing our salvation.

In frightening moments of culture and technological shift, we tend to reach for something more than Jesus—something tangible we can hold on to to know we’re safe and secure. We build up walls of policy and doctrine, or of research and knowledge, or of wealth and possessions, or of whatever else. Something tangible that we can control so that we can keep the sky from falling down on us. This has been going on since the beginning of the church—like it does here in Philippians. There’s nothing new under the sun.

But, the Christian faith is not a “Jesus-and” sort of faith. It’s just Jesus that saves us. Him alone. We put no confidence in the flesh. No confidence in any of the things that we can see, achieve, hold on to, or control.

Paul gives an example. As far as Judaism goes: Paul was at the top of the class. Not only was he born into the privilege of a strong, practicing Jewish pedigree—but he also had the smarts and the drive to pursue that Jewish faith to the Nth degree—not content even just with the achievements of joining the legally righteous Pharisaical sect, but also pursuing an absolutely faultless life and a zealous persecution of all those who stepped outside it—like Christians. But now: all these things he once considered gain, he now counts as loss.

Mark this well: Paul does not see his previous privilege and achievements as garbage—they were gains! But in light of the surpassing greatness and sufficiency of Jesus and him alone—he considers all else loss. Even what he had previously considered as gains.

So it is for our wealth and our institutions, our success and our knowledge—they may very well be gains in any other sense. But they don’t save us. There’s nothing there to put confidence in. In fact, compared to the all surpassing sufficiency of Christ, they are a loss. Or perhaps betters said, they are to be lost. Our need for them has to die, such that we hold on to nothing else but Jesus. This is what Paul’s getting at.

What gains in the world of the flesh do you rest your understanding of your security, worth, and belonging upon? That is, your salvation? Does it rest on nothing but Jesus? Or are there some Jesus-and sorts of things you hold on to that need to be lost for the sake of Christ?