Though *I* have [my] trust even in flesh; if any other think to trust in flesh, *I* rather
Paul has just described true believers as people who worship by the Spirit and put no trust in the flesh. Now he answers the obvious comeback: that is easy to say if you had nothing to boast about anyway. So he steps forward with his own credentials. If anyone wants to compete on that ground, he says, he can beat them.
The word "flesh" here does not point to appetite or scandal. It points to something respectable — and, for that reason, harder to detect.
The apostle does not talk of sin in the flesh here. The flesh has its religion as well as its lusts. Religion attracts it far more than worshipping God in the spirit, which the flesh cannot do. "Though I myself have reason for confidence in the flesh also" — that is the flesh's religion. And all the while, Paul was God's most determined enemy. Suppose this blamelessness of Paul — to whose credit was it? Paul's. Wherever religion is a credit to us, it is not worth anything; worse than that, it deceives us.
Paul does not list his advantages out of vanity. He lists them because the argument needs a man who has walked that road to the end himself.
In this verse and the two that follow, we get a summary of the real grounds for that "confidence in the flesh" — grounds that "the circumcision" have thrown away on purpose, as worthless and deceptive. Paul speaks well of himself here, and he has every right to. He steps forward as God's witness, to show in his own person the sound teaching of the Lord... Did anyone still feel safe on the ground of law? Did he still see no safer place to stand, and no higher goal, than to follow Moses blamelessly? Then let him hear the confession of a man who could lead him like a master down every path of human merit — and then show him a better way.
The two words at the end of the verse are a challenge. Name any ground a person trusts in, and Paul says he stands higher on it.
Saul of Tarsus stood, as it were, on the highest point of the hill of legal righteousness. He reached the topmost step of the ladder of human religion. He would allow no man to get above him... Is any man trusting in his self-control? Paul could say, "I more." Is any man trusting in his morality? Paul could say, "I more." Is any man trusting in ceremonies, sacraments, religious services, or devout practices? Paul could say, "I more." ... He lay at the very bottom of the pit of ruin, and he stood at the very top of the hill of self-righteousness. Look at him, and no sinner needs to despair. Look at him, and no one who trusts his own law-keeping can boast.
The opening words can be read two ways. Older translations make it a hypothetical: "I might have confidence in the flesh." The ESV reads it as fact: Paul does have reason for confidence.
The usual translation, "I might have confidence in the flesh," gives a true sense. But Paul puts it that he does have confidence in the flesh... And from man's point of view, he had every ground for such confidence. So here he takes his stand beside these men who had come to Philippi pressing the law of Moses.
The value of the verse lies in who is speaking. A man with nothing proves nothing by giving it up.
God gave Paul a special gift: to be a witness of how worthless man is, or the flesh at its best. For if anyone else might have had confidence in it, he had more, as he tells us. But he gave it up, and that act exposes how completely empty it is. The man who gave it up had reached the finest and most flattering achievements in it.
No argument ended Paul's boasting. A sight did.
Paul might indeed boast, if necessary, in what belonged to the flesh. He had every Jewish privilege to the highest degree... One thing alone had changed it all — he had seen a glorified Christ. All that he had according to the flesh was from then on loss to him... And notice: what he rejects here is not the sins of the flesh, which Christ atones for and abolishes. What he rejects is the flesh's righteousness.
- Flesh — the target here is not appetite but religion. When religion is a credit to us, it is worth nothing, and worse, it deceives us.
- Credentials — Paul lists his advantages as evidence, not as vanity. He is the witness who has walked every path of human merit.
- "I more" — name any ground: morality, self-control, ceremonies, religious service. Paul stood higher on it than anyone else.
- Renunciation — the man who threw it all away had reached the very top of it. That is what exposes how empty it is.
- Sight — one thing ended the boast: he had seen a glorified Christ. What he then threw away was not his sins but his righteousness.
as to circumcision, [I received it] the eighth day; of [the] race of Israel, of [the] tribe of Benjamin, Hebrew of Hebrews; as to [the] law, a Pharisee;
Paul has just warned the Philippians about teachers pressing circumcision on them. Now he lists his own religious credentials, item by item — and the question is what he meant to do with such a list.
The list is not autobiography for its own sake. It answers teachers who had come to Philippi with a demand.
Certain men had come to Philippi. They were telling the believers they must be circumcised and keep the law of Moses to be saved. These men had confidence in the flesh — just what the true circumcision did not have. Now Paul is about to take his place, so to speak, alongside these men, and compare his own credentials with theirs… These evil teachers seem to have pressed circumcision more than anything else, so Paul begins with it. Someone converting to Judaism from outside could be circumcised at any age, but the law required a Jew to be circumcised on the eighth day. Paul had met every requirement of the law, as far as circumcision went.
The order matters. Birth gave him the first items. He chose the Pharisee's party himself.
Paul begins with what he inherited, and so with what did not depend on his own choice or will. He was not a convert to Judaism from outside, but a Jew both born and bred. His descent as an Israelite of the tribe of Benjamin was faultless, and he had entered the covenant of circumcision in the flesh just as the law required… He then turns to what was properly his own, and what he was responsible for: "as to the law, a Pharisee." He joined that party in its strictest form when he came of age. He took in the teaching of Gamaliel and held on to it, like good soil.
"Of the tribe of Benjamin" was not a throwaway line. That tribe carried honours of its own.
Benjamin was a very favoured tribe. Benjamin was one of the two sons of Jacob's favourite wife. He was the only child of Jacob born in the Promised Land. The first king of Israel came from the tribe of Benjamin, and Saul of Tarsus bore his name. The holy city, Jerusalem, was in the land of Benjamin. When the other tribes revolted, Benjamin was the only tribe that stayed loyal to Judah and the house of David.
The phrase "a Hebrew of Hebrews" reaches back to his parents and to the language spoken at home.
He was a pure Jew. Timothy's father was a Greek; not so Saul of Tarsus — he was pure Hebrew. A man was a Jew if he traced his descent from Jacob and followed the religion of his fathers. But he was not counted a Hebrew unless he spoke the Hebrew language. And Paul would not have described himself this way unless his father had these qualifications too. So he probably spoke Hebrew from earliest childhood, and we know he spoke it fluently.
Here the word "flesh" does not mean appetite or vice. It means the kind of thing this verse lists.
This is the only reference to flesh in this letter, as far as I know. But it is flesh in its religious form, not a source of evil desires and passions. It is all judged by Christ, and its religious form not least. … And what did the apostle do with this whole roll of fleshly advantages? It was seen laid in the grave of Christ.
None of this was a list of crimes — with one exception.
Here the apostle sets out the recommendations that were his as a religious man, and in some cases they were his by birth… None of these qualities were evil in themselves, except the persecution of the church. Even that was perhaps not evil in his own eyes in his unconverted days, for he did not then know it to be so. Yet so it was.
If the items were not sins, why throw them away? Because religious flesh is worse than plain sin.
It is striking, the way Paul takes it up. It is not as sin, but as something completely worthless — legal righteousness, and true religion as man can see it. … All it does is credit self. That is the mischief and the evil. Who would keep filthy rags when he could have Christ for his righteousness? … The deceitful desires are bad enough, but this religious flesh is worse. It was not real righteousness; it was self puffed up, not self judged — self patched out and painted over.
- Gain listed. Paul sets his credentials beside those of the teachers at Philippi. He matches them item for item.
- Gain inherited. He opens with what he never chose: circumcision on the eighth day, the people of Israel, the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew home and language.
- Gain chosen. Then comes what he chose himself: the strictest party, trained under Gamaliel.
- Gain unstained. Nothing in the list was wicked in itself; this is the flesh in its religious form, not in its appetites.
- Gain buried. The whole roll went into the grave of Christ, because a righteousness of one's own only credits self.
as to zeal, persecuting the assembly; as to righteousness which [is] in [the] law, found blameless;
Paul's list of religious credentials ends with two claims. One is a zeal fierce enough to hunt down Christians. The other is a record under the law that nobody could fault. These were the strongest cards in his hand, and they are the ones he later throws away.
The word behind "blameless" is built from two Greek parts. Together they show what Paul was claiming.
amemptos comes from a, meaning "not," and memphomai, "to blame." So it means "without blame." In his former life Paul had nothing to accuse himself of as to the righteousness of the law. Philippians 3:6. Zacharias and his wife were beyond blame, Luke 1:6. The saints too should be beyond blame, Philippians 2:15; 1 Thessalonians 3:13. And if the first covenant had been faultless, there would have been no place for a second. Hebrews 8:7.
That record stood as long as the law only asked about outward acts. One command reached into desire, and it broke.
Paul could say of himself, "as to righteousness under the law, blameless" (Philippians 3:6). But the moment the law said, "You shall not covet," it might as well have said, "You shall not be a man." If I take the law, you see it is most useful; it probes the heart, and brings the awareness that we have not kept it... It is true that unless something probes us, we all tend to think well of ourselves. We all tend to be Pharisees.
The persecution was not a lapse from his religion. It was his religion working at full strength — which is why sincerity gave him no protection.
"As to zeal, a persecutor of the church," was Paul's own account afterwards of the state in which divine grace found him (Philippians 3:6). It did not alter his conviction that he was the chief of sinners. "The least of the apostles," he says elsewhere, and "unworthy to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God" (1 Corinthians 15:9). A man's religion may be the worst thing about him. His sincerity in it will not soften that effect. It makes the effect all the more certain.
Paul felt no guilt while dragging believers to prison. Commentators draw a warning from this that reaches beyond his case.
Take Paul before his conversion. He could say that he had lived in all good conscience before God. Yet he had been dragging men and women to prison because they were Christians. No doubt he did it with an untroubled conscience. The Lord had said: "whoever kills you will think he is offering service to God." John 16:2. Paul's zeal for Judaism blinded him. In his conscience he could not recognise the God who gave the law and had also sent His Son... it was an unenlightened conscience, a zeal without knowledge, by which even the Christian may be led astray.
"The church" here is not one congregation in one city. And a voice from heaven told him who he was really striking.
Paul persecuted the Church (1 Corinthians 15:9; Galatians 1:13; Philippians 3:6). He attacked not just the saints at Jerusalem, but through them the whole Church. Indeed, he heard a voice asking, "Why are you persecuting me?" (Acts 9:4-5.)
Paul reached the top of religious achievement before he met Christ. One writer, who uses his earlier name Saul, sees a purpose in that order.
So Saul as an earnest Jew could not be anything but a zealous persecutor of the church of God. It was part of his religion. In that religion he outdid many of his equals in his own nation, and in it he was "exceedingly zealous." Whatever religion had to offer, Saul would have it. Whatever height there was to reach, he would reach it. He would leave no stone unturned to build up the structure of his own righteousness — righteousness in the flesh, righteousness in the old creation. He was allowed to gain every attraction of legal righteousness. The purpose was that he might fling them away before the brighter glories of a righteousness that is divine.
- Blameless — no one could bring a charge against him. That is a public record, not a searched heart.
- Cracked — the command against coveting reached past conduct into desire, and the flawless record fell apart.
- Conscience — Paul persecuted believers without a twinge. Commentators call this an unenlightened conscience, a zeal without knowledge, and they warn that a Christian can go astray the same way.
- Christ — the church he attacked was not one local group but the whole. The voice from heaven made the charge personal: "Why are you persecuting me?"
- Counted loss — he was allowed to reach the top of religious achievement, and then he flung the whole pile away for a righteousness that comes from God.
but what things were gain to me these I counted, on account of Christ, loss.
Paul had just listed the credentials that once made him one of the most respected religious men alive: his birth, his tribe, his training, his zeal, and a blameless record under the law. In one line he moves the whole list into the loss column. What could be worth such a trade?
The items Paul crossed out were not vices. They were advantages any devout person would have envied. One writer explains what changed their value.
All these things were gain to him as a natural man. They would have given him a great place among men. But the moment he saw Christ in glory, he discovered something else. Despite all his religious advantages, he was the chief of sinners, and had come short of the glory of God. He also saw that all blessing depended on Christ and His work. So from then on he counted the things that were gain to him as a natural man as loss for Christ. He was a Hebrew of the Hebrews, and as to the righteousness that is in the law he was blameless. To trust in that any longer would have been to set aside Christ's work by his own works, and to rejoice in himself rather than in Christ.
Christ deals with sins by His sacrifice. What Paul throws away here is something else.
One thing alone had changed it all — he had seen a glorified Christ. Everything he had in the flesh was loss to him from then on. It would place something between him and the Christ of his faith and his desire — the Christ whom he knew. And notice: what he rejects here is not the sins of the flesh, which Christ atones for and abolishes. It is the righteousness of the flesh... The surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus his Lord had eclipsed everything, and turned everything that was not Christ into loss. The stars, as well as the darkness of night, disappear before the sun.
One writer works from an older translation, where Paul's word for gain is plural. His assets are many; what they add up to is one thing.
Notice that "gains" is plural, but "loss" is singular: just one loss, one deprivation — not merely a worthless thing, but a ruinous one. So Paul came to view all these great assets of his. These "gains" were not simply one great loss; they were ruinous. If he held on to them, he would lose his own soul.
Someone might dismiss this as the enthusiasm of a new convert. Paul was still counting the same way at the moment he wrote this letter.
So what did the apostle do with this whole list of advantages in the flesh? It was laid in the grave of Christ. "But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ." Was this what the apostle felt, did, and suffered when he first came to know Christ? It was also what he carried right up to the moment of writing to the Philippians, as strongly as ever. "Indeed," he said, "I count everything as loss."
Deciding something is worthless is one thing. Watching it go is another. Paul did both, and the first made the second bearable.
This counting of all things as loss was not just an attitude of his mind. He adds, "For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things." It is one thing to count all things as loss. It is quite another to really suffer the loss of it all. The apostle knew both. He was not shaken when he lost everything, because he had already counted everything as loss. And in Christ he had infinite gain, compared with whom all else is rubbish.
This is not self-denial done to earn something. The order matters.
When the heart has found its rest in Christ and is satisfied, it finds it easy to turn down what does not suit Him. We do not refuse in order to gain something; we refuse because we already have Christ. This is the lesson of Philippians 3:7-8.
- Sight — one sight of Christ in glory changed the whole valuation. Everything that was not Christ became loss, the way stars vanish before the sun.
- Sum — many gains, but one loss. His assets added up to a single ruinous deprivation, and holding them would have cost him his soul.
- Substitution — Paul throws away his righteousness here, not his sins. Trusting his own record would set aside Christ's work by his own works.
- Sustained — this was no first flush of enthusiasm. As he wrote this letter he was still counting the same way, with the whole list laid in Christ's grave.
- Satisfied — he could refuse the rest because he already had Christ. When he truly lost it all, he was not shaken. He had written it off long before.
But surely I count also all things to be loss on account of the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord, on account of whom I have suffered the loss of all, and count them to be filth, that I may gain Christ;
Paul lists every credential that once made him somebody — his birth, his tribe, his religion. He writes the whole list off as loss, and the verse asks two questions: what is Christ worth to me, and does that verdict still hold years later?
Verse 7 looked back: "I counted." Verse 8 changes both the tense and the scope.
It was not enough to say, "I counted these things loss long ago" — the national and religious privileges we have been speaking of. Not only did I count them loss when I was first converted; I still count them so. And not only these things — I count all things loss. My social standing, my family, my wealth, my all: all loss, for the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.
That present tense is the hard part, because a first decision is easier than a lasting one.
Suppose a man has just been saved. What does he think about the world? That it has deceived him. Leave him for a while, and his family twines around him, and soon he begins to seek the things of the world. Paul saw Christ on the way to Damascus. He gives up his importance, his standing as a Pharisee, his teaching, everything else, and counts it all as loss that he may win Him. He says "count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ" — present tense, not "counted," which would be far easier.
The phrase is not a compliment about a superior grade of knowledge.
He does not count all things loss because this knowledge ranks higher than other knowledge. He counts them loss because this knowledge surpasses everything else. And the more of that knowledge he gained, the more he longed for more of it; so when we get to verse 10, we hear him cry: "That I may know Him!"
One writer draws the line between knowing what Christ has done and knowing Christ Himself.
It is one thing to know the value of His work, and another to know Himself... I mean a heart acquaintance, a deep, personal intimacy with the Lord; that you should get to know Him as your own. Near the end of his life Paul could say, "I know whom I have believed." That was no shallow or second-hand knowledge, picked up from reports or writings. It came from years of companionship, in summer or winter, when people praised him and when they did not.
The wording here is personal.
Notice that Paul does not say "our Lord." No, it is "my Lord." Outside this letter Paul does not often speak this way, but in this short letter we find it three times: 1:3; 3:8; and 4:19. There is a warmth, a passion here, that we perhaps see nowhere else... I wonder, can we truthfully say, as shown in our daily walk: "my Lord"?
"All things" was not an abstraction. Paul had a long list of things to lose.
As to his associations he was "of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee." He was a citizen of "no obscure city." He was born free — a position many wanted. He had studied under Gamaliel, "a teacher of the law held in honor by all the people." Truly a record the flesh could be proud of! Yet it was all this, and more — "all things" — which he had counted and still counted as loss.
The word translated "rubbish" is blunt. One writer traces it to words meaning "to cast to the dogs," and to an old papyrus describing bones thrown out to the dogs (G C Willis). If that is what Paul's past is worth, talk of heroic self-denial misses the point.
When Paul viewed his old advantages in the light of Christ and of the glory he was heading for, he counted them as rubbish. Who would ever think the earth at its best worth looking back on, when they have the glory before their eyes? Who would call taking out the rubbish a great sacrifice?
Paul already belonged to Christ, so the phrase needs care. One writer says it looks forward, not to a second-stage experience.
Did he not have Christ already? He did. He was in Him. The apostle does not mean that he reaches out, as some teach, for a "deeper life" experience or something like it. He had perfect assurance of his standing before God in Christ. His wish to win Christ, to gain Christ, is his longing to have Christ in glory in actual fact. Like a runner who has no eyes for his surroundings but keeps his eye on the goal, the believer looks to the glorified Christ and presses forward.
- Then — at conversion Paul counted his privileges loss. Verse 8 calls that reckoning too small and widens it to "all things."
- Now — the tense is present. Paul still counts, years later. A good start is common; a lasting verdict is rare.
- Why — not a higher grade of knowledge, but knowledge that surpasses everything. It grows into one cry: "That I may know Him!"
- Whose — "my Lord," not "our Lord": personal possession, the warmth found three times in this short letter.
- Worth — he calls what he dropped rubbish, fit for the dogs. No one calls taking out the rubbish a sacrifice. Ahead lies Christ Himself in glory.
and that I may be found in him, not having my righteousness, which [would be] on the principle of law, but that which is by faith of Christ, the righteousness which [is] of God through faith,
Paul has just thrown away every religious advantage he once counted as gain. Verse 9 says what he wants instead: a place in Christ, and a righteousness that is not his own but God's.
Each phrase of the verse marks off one side of the contrast from the other.
The contrast in this ninth verse is striking: "my own righteousness" set against "the righteousness which is of God." The first, if anyone could reach it, would be "of the law." It would be something purely human, measured by the standard the law demands. The other is the righteousness in which we stand as the fruit of the gospel. It is "of God" — that is, divine, in contrast to human. It is "through the faith of Christ" — that is, it is available to us because of His intervention and His work, which the gospel presents to faith. And it is "by faith" — that is, we receive it on the principle of faith and not on the principle of works of law.
Notice what Paul refuses. It is not his failures he sets aside here.
He does not say "not having his sins," but his righteousness. Christ has obtained the glory. The law would have been his righteousness down here. But doing what I ought to do would never give me a title to be in the same glory as the Son of God. Why should it?
Paul had a blameless record under the law. Seeing Christ in glory did something more than cancel his sins.
He possessed the righteousness which was of God by faith. What was that righteousness worth for which he had laboured, now that he possessed the all-perfect righteousness which God gave by faith? Not sins alone were put away: human righteousness was made worthless by it.
The words "of God" mean more than God approving this righteousness or handing it out. It is His own, and that is why it stands far above anything the law could produce.
Legal righteousness is what everyone under law is bound to render to God. The righteousness which is God's, and of God on the ground of faith, is of pure grace — as much higher and better as God is above man, yes, above what man ought to be. That was human; this is divine righteousness. The law never called a righteous man to die for sinners, still less a divine person. It never claimed His resurrection. Still less did it claim to raise Him again for their justification. … In short, the law sought righteousness from man. It made God only the receiver, and so far passive, with man seen as the active party. In the gospel it is the opposite: God has His rightful and better place, active in grace through righteousness to eternal life by Jesus Christ our Lord. The gospel reveals His righteousness.
Some argue that God's righteousness means Christ kept the law in our place. Darby answers that Paul sets faith against law, not law-keeping done by someone else.
So I find an opposite principle to law brought in. The thing that justifies us stands in careful contrast with law: God's righteousness by faith, set against man's — our own by law. Christ's keeping it for others is never hinted at, nor supposed to be possible. Righteousness by law is always treated as our own, and rejected, as in Philippians 3:9.
"Be found" points forward to a coming day.
Only in that day will this be "found" fully and perfectly true of the apostle, as of every child of God. Then its perfection will appear as never before.
Yet that day shapes the journey now.
The true bearing of the passage is that from the first, faith fixes its eye steadily on the end of the journey. "That I may win Christ, and be found in him" — where not a trace of self remains, but all will be Christ, and nothing but Christ. This is the righteousness whose source is in God. It comes by faith of Christ, not through the law — which of course would have man's righteousness if it could.
Paul once took pride in his record. Now he sees what it was worth.
How proud Saul had been of his legal righteousness! As far as the righteousness of the law went, he was blameless. No one could point a finger at him. Now he seeks the righteousness of God in Christ. In the light of Christ's glory his garment of legal righteousness looks like nothing but filthy rags, something to be rid of. Instead he has the best robe, the one God provides. He is found in Christ before God, where no charge of guilt can be brought against him.
- Righteousness, not sins. What Paul gives up here is his righteousness, not his sins — his best record, not his worst.
- Two standards. One righteousness is human, measured by the law. The other is divine: God gives it through Christ, and faith receives it.
- God's own. It is not just righteousness God approves or supplies. It is His own — as far above what man owes as God is above man.
- Not by proxy. Paul calls righteousness by law "my own" and refuses it. Faith stands against law; it does not lean on someone else's law-keeping.
- Found in Him. The end is a place where no trace of self remains and no charge can stand. That day will show it in full; faith fixes on it from the first step.
to know him, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of his sufferings, being conformed to his death,
Paul has just called everything he once counted as gain a loss. Verse 10 says what he wants instead. The surprise is that a man who already knew Christ still speaks of knowing Him as something ahead of him.
One writer traces the opening words back to an earlier phrase. The verse, he says, is about the road Paul walks, not the goal at the end of it.
The beginning of verse 10 connects back to "Christ Jesus my Lord" in verse 8. The words in between are a parenthesis. The apostle says, "Indeed, I count" — not only counted in the past, but still count — "everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord." … Verse 9 goes on to the future … whereas verse 10 gives us the apostle's desires in view of his path through this world.
Everything in the verse hangs on one small word.
He says "that I may know HIM". Not only to know about Him, but to know HIM; the pronoun is what gives these statements their point. "The power of His resurrection", "share His sufferings", "becoming like Him in His death". Not only death, but "His death".
One writer meets the obvious objection. Paul already knew Christ, so why ask to know Him?
Of course he already knew Him. But the knowledge of Christ has no end. Every bit of closeness He gives us only sharpens the desire to know Him more fully. We shall grow in the knowledge of Himself throughout eternity. But why does "the power of His resurrection" follow? Because it detaches us from this scene and brings us to His side, where He now is. That is the only place we can know Him now.
The order of the clauses matters. Paul does not ask for resurrection power to make life easier. He asks for it so he can go further into Christ's rejection.
"That I may know Him and the power of His resurrection" — that is, the power of the place where He has joined us to Himself. He seeks this not so that peace may be more perfect, or any blessing better enjoyed, but so that we may go further down the path of rejection with Him here, and "share His sufferings." We shall never know such fellowship in the eternal glory. If we miss it now, we miss it for ever. … There is a fellowship of His sufferings sweeter even than the fellowship of His glory. David's mighty men were never so close to him in the glories of the kingdom as when he was a hunted man in the hills.
Not every part of what Christ endured can be shared.
One side of Christ's death was His alone: He suffered for sins, and no one could follow Him there. But many devoted believers have followed their Master into a martyr's death, so that they will come out like Him in resurrection from among the dead.
The last clause is not a single event but something under way. The grammar itself carries the point.
The word translated "being conformed" is passive and present in tense. It tells of something being done to us, a process going on all the time. As we gaze on our suffering Saviour, we are conformed to His death little by little. It is the same as when we gaze on the glory of the Lord and are changed into the same image.
The same writer shows what that looks like day to day:
Anyone who truly shares Christ's sufferings cannot enjoy the world's pleasures. He cannot settle down to a life of ease and luxury in it.
Commentators also differ over one phrase. Is "the power of His resurrection" something known now, or something reached later? One reads it as inward and present, with the suffering side as the practical part:
Until the Lord comes, we can know the power of His resurrection only in an inward, spiritual way. But sharing His sufferings and being made like Him in His death are very practical things.
Another says Paul already had that inward power, and was reaching past it:
He wanted to know the power of His resurrection. Many think he meant a present power of resurrection in his soul, but he already knew that. He was risen with Christ and knew it. He was not thinking of a state to be reached down here. He meant the thing that will put him in the place where he longs to be.
- Him — The request is for a Person, not information. The pronoun, not the doctrine, carries the weight.
- More — Paul already knew Christ. Every step closer only deepens the hunger, and that growth runs on into eternity.
- Power — Paul asks for resurrection power first. It pulls the heart away from this scene and sets it beside Christ where He is.
- Fellowship — That power is not spent on comfort but on going down into His rejection. His atoning suffering is His alone; His rejection is shareable — and only shareable now.
- Conformed — The last clause is a slow work, done in us as we gaze at a suffering Saviour. It shows in what we will and will not settle for here.
if any way I arrive at the resurrection from among [the] dead.
Paul has just said he wants to know Christ, share His sufferings, and become like Him in His death. This verse names where that road ends, and it raises two questions: why from the dead rather than of the dead, and why does Paul sound unsure?
Commentators say the older English wording blurs something important. This verse is not about a rising shared by everyone.
In common Bibles it reads "the resurrection of the dead," but I have no hesitation in saying that this is a complete mistake. According to the best authorities, the true and only meaning is, "if by any means I might attain to the resurrection out of (or from among) the dead." It may seem to some only a slight change. But if we want to know the mind of God, it makes a weighty difference. "Resurrection from the dead" implies that the rest of the dead remain in their graves. It points to a resurrection not common to all mankind, bad and good, but belonging only to those who are dear to God.
The word Paul uses here is unusual. It points to God's own pleasure in the one He raises.
The word for resurrection here in Philippians 3:11 is a special one in the Greek. It is found nowhere else in the New Testament… What was Christ's resurrection? God raised Him from the dead because His delight was in Him, because of His perfect righteousness, and because He glorified Him. And it is the same with us. Resurrection is the expression of God's satisfaction in those raised; it is His seal on Christ's work.
Many readers hear hesitation in these words. Commentators say they leave the route open, not the outcome.
It is a resurrection from among the dead, a resurrection after the pattern and example of Christ's resurrection. As for the expression "if by any means," it does not imply any doubt. It simply declares that the apostle was quite ready to reach that glorious goal by any route his Lord and Master might choose.
Paul names the goal he was ready to lose everything to reach.
The apostle's great desire was to reach Christ in the glory. With this in view he was ready to be conformed to Christ's death — to die to all that Christ had died to. He would accept even a martyr's death, if that was the way to reach the blessed condition of "the resurrection from among the dead."
Some read the verse as though only outstanding Christians reach this resurrection. Commentators reject that, and point to the word behind "attain," which means simply to arrive.
There is no such thing as a special or select resurrection of a certain company of believers. Scripture speaks of only two resurrections: first, that of the just when the Lord comes; then, when time itself is over, the resurrection of the unjust to judgment… It is for them as for Him a resurrection from among the dead, which is simply what Paul refers to in Philippians 3:11. It belongs to all who are His, and depends altogether on Christ, and in no way on the condition of the believer… "If by any means I may arrive at" — the word is not the one for attainment — "resurrection from among the dead."
Commentators differ on what "attain" adds here. One reading takes it as pointing to how Paul would rise, not when.
Paul is not saying that God would raise him before the rest of the saints. That is not in view. He would rise with all the rest of the saints at the coming of the Lord, but he would rise as one who had given his life for the testimony… We know that all saints will rise at the coming of the Lord. Paul, though, is looking at it as a prize to be won.
Certainty about the end did not slow Paul down. It made him run.
He was like a well-trained athlete running in an obstacle race with a mighty enthusiasm for reaching the goal. The earlier verses have told us how he had flung away seeming advantages as hindrances to his course. These verses tell us that no obstacle would hold him back. He would tear his way through the barbed wire of suffering and plunge into the watercourse of death, if that was the way to reach his goal.
- Out from among. The verse speaks of resurrection from among the dead — one that leaves the rest in their graves.
- God's delight. God raised Christ because He delighted in Him. That same resurrection is His seal of satisfaction on all who are Christ's.
- No doubt. "If by any means" is not doubt about arriving. It is willingness to come by whatever road the Lord appoints.
- No elite. This resurrection belongs to all who are Christ's. It rests on Him, not on how well a believer has done.
- Full speed. Paul's settled hope did not relax him. It turned him into a runner who would push through suffering and death to reach the goal.