NOTES for Php 3:1-8

Here is what is more difficult in the Christian life. One Christian woman with a very big experience said that she has almost never met joyful Christians in her life. But why is it like that? The Gospel, is it not a Joyful News, the news that God is love, that He forgives us, that He is with us, that He is in us! Is that not sufficient, in order to indwell in joy?

But this joy is paid with a very high price. Do we have to forget the cross, remembering the resurrection? Can we resuscitate with Christ, without being crucified with Him? And this means a constant participation in His sufferings for the sins of the world, for our sins. This means a heart quivering of any demonstration of aversion and bleeding of misfortunes, of pains and the death around us. What joy can then be here?!

That's why the apostle Paul writes: "finally... ". He indeed writes this letter being in prison, and not in some kind of palace. He knows very well this paradoxicality, this tension of the Christian life, but considers still that joy surmounts, because Christ did not die for nothing. He overcame death, He atoned the sins of the world, and ours also.

Today the apostle Paul lists his "merits" before the law. He does this for one single purpose: to explain that he renounces reliance on righteousness not because he does not have righteousness and never had it. When a person "does not fit" within the framework of the law, he can be accused of rejecting the law out of envy.

But Paul, more than anyone else, could have counted on salvation by works of the law, if those works could save. But since salvation is not in works, not in righteousness, but only in Christ, Paul "counts as loss," as nothing, everything of which he might have boasted. And what can one boast of while standing at the Lord's cross, knowing the price at which our salvation was bought?...

There is a well-known truth: everything is known by comparison. It is not surprising that it also applies to the Christian life. But in what sense?

Of course, whenever a person experiences conversion, not necessarily to God or to Christ, but to any new faith for him, even a philosophical one, his first reaction as a new convert is a revaluation of all values, often a very radical one. But with the passing of time, as a rule, such a neophyte becomes less radical, and the less so the more he ceases to be a neophyte. It does happen otherwise, but that should probably already be regarded as an anomaly of spiritual development.

With Paul, however, as we can see, everything is different: his revaluation proved not only radical, but also very stable. The attitude he expresses here toward all his former knowledge is one he confirms throughout his entire Christian life. What is the matter here? Paul cannot be suspected of spiritual immaturity! As we can see, the issue lies elsewhere.

One could, of course, also say that a person who has experienced conversion to God and has set out on the path of righteousness often revalues his entire former life once and for all, especially if his life was sinful and incompatible with righteousness. But this cannot be said of Paul either: he chose God and the path of righteousness long before the meeting on the Damascus road. What, then, does he mean?

To understand Paul, one must perhaps live through what he lived through: the staggering experience of the reality of the risen Christ and of the Kingdom that entered the world with Him. Against such a background, everything former truly becomes something of little importance, or of no importance at all. The point is not that the Kingdom has no need of any human knowledge or human experience. The point, rather, is the quality of this knowledge and experience. After all, all our experience is by definition the experience of an untransformed world. Such experience inevitably proves limited. And, like everything belonging to the untransformed order of things, in the Kingdom it must change, be remelted, be transfigured. But this will become possible only if we do not cling to our knowledge and experience in their former, old quality. The most important thing here is to understand that in such a quality it is no more fit for the Kingdom than garbage is fit for the household. Paul understood this, giving up what had formerly formed the basis of his life, both religious and intellectual. In return he received far more: the living experience of the Kingdom, which transforms a person together with all his knowledge.

The known truth: everything is known in comparison. It is not surprising that it is also applicable to the Christian life. But then in which sense? Certainly, any time, when man experiences the call, and not necessarily of God or Christ, but in any new faith for him, even if philosophic, his first reaction, as a convert, becomes the revaluation of all values, often rather radical. But with time, generally, such a neophyte becomes less radical, and the less, the more he stops being a neophyte (it sometimes happens that it is otherwise, but it is probably already necessary to consider it as an anomaly of the spiritual development). For Paul, as seen: everything is otherwise: his reevaluation has proved not only radical, but also very stable, the relation to all his previous knowledge expressed by him here, he confirms throughout his entire Christian life. What is the matter then here? For, Paul should not at all be suspected of spiritual immaturity! As seen, the problem is somewhere else.

We could certainly say again that the man who experienced the conversion to God and who took the path of righteousness, revalues very often once for all his entire past life, particularly, if his life was sinful and not at all compatible with righteousness. But we couldn’t say this of Paul: he chose God and the way of righteousness long before the encounter on the road to Damascus. What thus did he mean by that? Probably in order to understand Paul, it is necessary to experience what he experienced: the awesome experience of the reality of the risen Christ and this Kingdom, which entered with Him into the world.

On this background, all old thing becomes something little significant or insignificant. And it is not that the Kingdom doesn’t need any human knowledge or human experience. It is rather in the quality of this knowledge and experience. Because each our experience by definition is an experience of the non-transformed world. And such an experience is inevitably limited. And, as any thing belonging to the non-transformed order of things, in the Kingdom it has to change, melt, be transformed.

But it will be possible only in case we shall not hold on our knowledge and experiences in their previous, old quality. The most important here is to understand that in such quality it is suitable in the Kingdom not more, than the garbage in the household. And Paul understood it, refusing what formerly was the basis of his life, religious and intellectual. And received in exchange much more: a living experience of the Kingdom, transforming man with all his knowledge.

Paul touches on the theme of righteousness and the theme of circumcision, which at that time was acute in some churches of Greece and Asia Minor. The apostle connects circumcision "with the righteousness that comes from the Torah," while noting that if anyone had grounds to boast in such righteousness, he had more than those who were defending it before the Philippian brothers. But in comparison with what he received in his encounter with the Risen One, Paul considers it no more than trash.

And the point here is not that the apostle rejects the Torah as such. He simply understands too well, from his own experience, that the Torah as such does not make a person righteous. It only points out the path of righteousness, from outside or from within, if we are speaking of the inner Torah. But it is not the Torah that makes a person righteous, but God, who gave the Torah to a person as an instrument on the path of righteousness. The Torah is a spiritual compass that points a person to this path.

But to reach the Kingdom, it is not enough merely to look at the compass; one must also walk the path it indicates, and here God's help and the participation of the Savior Himself are important, all the more because He Himself became the living Torah. The alternative to such a path is religion, religious activity, religious life in general, which often substitutes itself for spiritual life. And then, instead of the path, people begin to be carried away by various religious customs, rituals, and ceremonies, supposing that this is the very thing to which God is calling them.

In reality, however, all these things are merely human games that people invent for their own peace of mind and play for their own pleasure, while the players themselves consider them a means of attaining a certain "righteousness" (which the apostle calls, perhaps not without irony, "the righteousness that comes from the Torah"). Circumcision was just such a game for many Philippian Christians, and not only for them.

For them it was merely a religious rite: after all, they were not seriously intending to walk the spiritual path of Judaism, the path of the inner Torah, humility, unceasing inner prayer, the acquisition of the Shekhinah - in short, everything that mattered to the finest representatives of the Jewish spiritual tradition. For them circumcision was merely a kind of religious game that they played, thinking they were doing something important and necessary. Paul regarded such games as a profanation of the genuine spiritual path, and he was completely right to do so.

Paul tells us that no merits, no labors are anything in comparison with Christ and the Kingdom. It would seem that righteousness is righteousness; it is the same in every age, and the coming of the Messiah cannot change anything here.

But in this case the issue is not the way of righteousness as such, which is indeed one for all times, but the Kingdom and the One who brought it into the world. Now that the road into the Kingdom has been opened, the whole former experience of righteous life must be reconsidered radically in the context of this newly opened possibility. And all attempts to ignore it, to pretend that with Christ's coming nothing in the world has changed, prove spiritually dishonest from the start, in fact devaluing all efforts to live a righteous life by those who act this way.

Of course, the unwillingness to accept the obvious could also be connected with fears of losing everything acquired earlier, for the coming of the Messiah presupposed the necessity of beginning life practically from a blank page. A very widespread idea in religious circles at that time supposed that with the Messiah's coming the way of righteousness would be completed, and all the achievements acquired by righteous people would become a kind of spiritual currency with which one could pay for entrance into the Kingdom. But everything turned out differently: the Kingdom, as it proved, cannot be bought for any money or any achievements; it is simply offered freely to all who seek. But one can enter it only by beginning the spiritual path anew. And Paul understands perfectly well that salvation is still ahead, that it still has to be attained; the very fact of sharing in the life of the Kingdom presupposes not the completion of the path, but only its beginning, so that the main thing is still ahead. Righteousness is not devalued, but the path of the righteous person can now be only the path of the Kingdom, to which the apostle calls his readers.