Amy Jacks Dean, April 1, 2000

It was our first Christmas after the birth of our first child that we found that perfect Christmas gift for my father-in-law. Those wooden picture frames with words carved into the edges were just becoming popular. Not expensive or elaborate, but simple in its beauty. It would be the perfect gift for Dean-Dean because we had the perfect picture to go in it. Russ, asleep in the recliner with one month old Jackson sound asleep upon Russ’ chest. And the wooden etched frame read, “A hundred years from now it will not matter what my bank account was, the sort of house I lived in, or the kind of car I drove, but the world will be different because I was important in the life of a child.” Seven months later another perfect snapshot of my high school age niece Katie holding my eight month old sitting beside my father in his golf cart. I had to buy another frame - this time for Katie. She needed to know that even as a teenager, she already made the difference in the life of my child. And the world had the potential to be different - dare I say better - because she was important in the life of my child. As I thumb through all the pictures that have been taken in the last 4 years as our family has grown, I am astounded at how many of those picture frames we need to purchase. What a great feel-good-power-of-positive-thinking slogan that is. But we don’t live it. Because if truth be known, we spend more time and place more value on keeping up with our assets. It does matter how much is in our bank account and what kind of house we live in. It does matter what kind of family we grow up in and on which side of the tracks we are raised. We keep mental notes of our past.

It is precisely at this point that we find Paul today. The passage for today is a diary of sorts - a balance sheet, if you will. Assets and liabilities. Losses and gains. Now all of you accountant types are alert and ready - thinking FINALLY - a sermon I can relate to. Don’t get your hopes up. Paul has such a way with words. He can come off as superior, even arrogant, but before we completely discount him, let’s hear him out. Essentially Paul says: If anybody thinks they have reason to be proud and pat themselves on the back for who they are, what they believe or how they act, I’ve got more: I was circumcised on the eighth day (which showed he was keeping with the Jewish law - an induction rite of a native-born Jew); I am a member of the people of Israel (Israel was the covenant name of God’s people); I am of the tribe of Benjamin (Benjamin was the son of Rachel who was Jacob’s favorite wife and this tribe had remained faithful to the house of David); I am a Hebrew bornof Hebrews (born of pure Hebrew stock probably even maintaining knowledge of the Hebrew language); I am a Pharisee (small group of those who were faithful in upholding the letter of the law); I am zealous (was a persecutor of the church); and finally blameless in legalistic righteousness. Basically, Paul felt he had the best credentials that any Jew could have. (Broadman’s Commentary and New Interpreters Commentary)

And then Paul uses the image of a profit-and-loss account - the things once regarded as assets he now writes off as loss. (New Interpreters Commentary) And so now I wonder about us. What are the assets and liabilities that we would put on our lists? Some folks spend all of their energy looking back and reliving old accomplishments. These people are able to make a list a mile long containing all of the things that have gone right in their lives. They spend their time boasting about their credentials. Maybe not outwardly - they may not brag openly, but inside they are keeping track. I made the Dean’s list; I got the promotion; I got the car; I have my dream house; my children are getting scholarships; my business is a success; I am setting, reaching, and surpassing my goals. This is not an intentional arrogance, but you can see this person subconsciously keeping a record of their assets.

Then there are other people who have a list of liabilities. These folks live in the past and keep a record of all that has gone wrong in their lives. I have failed at everything I have tried; I got a divorce; I can’t keep a job; I can’t have children; I got laid-off; I’m underpaid and not appreciated; my children show me no respect; I have no close friends; I haven’t achieved any of my goals; life is not going as I had hoped or planned. This is not an intentional gloom and doom attitude, but you can see this person subconsciously keeping a record of their liabilities.

I’m here today to say: Count it ALL as loss - all of it - because today is about “pressing on.” My fear is that this is too simplistic - our past (both accomplishments and failures) make us who we are today. Without these memories, without these lessons learned, without the feeling of success, we come to this moment void. But remember, I did not say forget these assets and liabilities. I said count them all as loss. Paul was willing to count it all as loss for the gain of knowing Christ.

The life of faith is too often a life spent looking backward or looking forward. We either live in the past (resting in the what has been) or we live in the future (wishing for what might be). But today we hear those words, which have for me always had a poetic and rhythmic beat “But this one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward calling of God in Christ Jesus.”(Philippians 3:13-14) I press on.

What a great passage of Scripture as we celebrate our kick-off to the “Week of the Young Child.” One thing that is amazing about young children is their willingness to count everything in the past as loss and the concept of future is incomprehensible. Misbehavior, anger, pouting are forgotten while the parent is still fuming. “You’re not my best friend!” is replaced with “You’re my best brother!” in the matter of a moment. Tomorrow and next month are one in the same. The day after this night might as well be next year. For a young child, the moment is everything. And the way one moment moves into the next moment is the grandest adventure of all.

O to be like a child - where life could be lived in the moment - where we could count all that lies behind us as loss - the good and the bad, the bitter and the sweet. Would that not be a burden lifted? To live a life so that the way of Christ would be our gain - what would that look like? It is often preached that faith is something to acquire, something to have – to hold on to, something to claim. Many of us grew up in religious environments where “salvation” was preached as if it were something you could obtain. I think this is faulty theology. If we listen to these words to the people in Philippi today, we hear a notion that as soon as you lay claim to anything – even religion – you have to count it as loss. Claiming the way of Christ cannot be done. Pressing on in the way of Christ is our goal. It’s a race we run – solid and steady.

The Tour de France in the world of competitive cycling is the supreme test of strength and endurance. Twenty-two days, 20 different stages, 2286 miles. Some of the world’s most conditioned athletes compete literally head to head as they work the pedals of their racing bikes against hills and valley, city streets and always against the onset of exhaustion. On July 23, 2000 Lance Armstrong won his second Tour de France. At the victory line he said, “If there’s one thing I say to those who use me as their example, it’s that if you ever get a second chance in life, you’ve got to go all the way.”

“Forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward calling of God in Christ Jesus.” (verse 14) The precise meaning of this phrase is uncertain. Some have considered this merely a “heavenly” call – a promise of hereafter calling. I think not. Some have interpreted this as a prize that will be given to those who have obeyed the call. One commentator concludes, “the prize for which he is aiming will be the realization of [the] call.” The early Christians were known as “Followers of the Way.” Not “Achievers of the Way,” not “Obtainers of the Way,” not even “Claimers of the Way,” but rather “Followers of the Way.” I wish that were still what we were called. There is an image in that phrase that says – solid and steady. It’s one foot in front of the other. This life of faith cannot be achieved or gained, it can just be lived. Paul says, “Not that I have already reached the goal, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own.” (verse 12) The life of faith is about the pursuit. It’s about struggle. It’s about the questions and doubts and fears. It’s about the joys and the celebrations and the quest. The life of faith is meant to be lived, not to be possessed. We must rid ourselves of the faulty thinking that says my life with God is something I have – as if it could be given away or lost. My life with God is pressing on.

Several weeks ago, Russ talked about the one sermon that we would preach while serving as your pastors – that our time together is not a bunch of sermons back to back, but actually our time together is one long sermon. If you were here last week, you heard a difficult sermon – one that has caused much conversation during the week. The sermon dealt with the theological notions of atonement. Essentially, Russ rejected what is familiar to most and posed a new way of thinking about the cross. After Wednesday night’s discussion, he came home saying, “This is just hard stuff.” And he’s right. But my sermon this week says we press on, we plow through – together. I have heard about several different groupings of people – this week – dialoguing about last week’s sermon. Folks wrestling with what he said, trying to process what he meant and how that jives with what they believe. For some that may the preacher’s worst nightmare. For us, that is the highest compliment. We are in this together. We are pressing on with you. Faith is not something we possess – it’s something that possesses us. Faith is not something to be had, it is a life to be lived.

For all of the difficulties of the faith, for all of the doubts of the doctrines, for all of the misunderstandings of the teachings – it’s worth it – the way of Christ – the prize of the call of God is worth. The journey is worth it. So around here, you’ll find us pressing on, because the way one moment moves into the next moment is the grandest adventure of all.