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.