Philippians 3:4–6

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.

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.

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 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

"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.

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.

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.)

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.