Straining Forward to What Lies Ahead

Photo by Wesley Tingey

Photo by Wesley Tingey

“Not that I have already obtained this or have already reached the goal; but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. Beloved, I do not consider that I have made it my own;  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 heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 3:12–14 NRSV).

One of the chief tenets of Protestant Christianity is the idea of salvation by faith through God’s grace in Jesus Christ. In other words, persons may be saved only because of who God is and what God has done for them. Salvation cannot be earned; it can only be received as a gift from God.

I am personally committed to the truth of this claim, believing that this is what the Bible in fact teaches. However, being saved because of God’s grace and not anything that we have done or might do does not, then, suggest that we are simply passive subjects who have no responsibility other than to receive what God offers.

The apostle Paul is a wonderful example of how salvation works. In his letter to the Christ community in the Roman colony of Philippi, he uses himself as a model of one whose life was transformed through his encounter with Jesus Christ.

Paul believed he was directly called by Jesus to proclaim the “good news” that by virtue of his life, death, and resurrection Jesus was now Lord and Savior of the whole world. And Paul clearly understood that this calling entailed not merely telling people about what God had done through Christ, but also becoming more like him in his own life.

That is, the very salvation provided him was found in the power he now possessed to live a life pleasing to God—a life that fundamentally seeks to bring blessing to the rest of the world regardless of the cost. Importantly, Paul’s new life in Christ required his active participation in the transformative process. In other words, God didn’t “magically” change him the moment he embraced Jesus as Lord.

Rather, as Paul himself explains, in order to “gain Christ” and be “found in him” (Philippians 3:8–9), he strained forward toward the goal of achieving his calling. Said differently, he had to work hard and endure much to become like Christ.

Paul saw absolutely no contradiction in pointing to God’s grace as ultimately responsible for his transformation, while also affirming his own action as being necessarily involved. Look again at what he says: “I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own.” God graciously acted to take hold of Paul’s life, and Paul acted in response to that grace to change his life accordingly.

In another of his letters, this one to the Christ community in the city of Corinth, Paul explains the nature of the Christian life using the analogy of an athlete training for competition. He writes,

“Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. Therefore I do not run like someone running aimlessly; I do not fight like a boxer beating the air. No, I strike a blow to my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize” (1 Corinthians 9:24–27 NIV).

Yes, at the core of the Christian tradition is the reality of God’s grace—God’s unmerited favor through which he freely chose to save us. We can only receive the gift of salvation. We cannot save ourselves. Nevertheless, like the professional athlete born with physical abilities well-beyond the average person, or even like an apostle to whom Jesus Christ directly appeared, every Christian is responsible to do something with what has been given him or her.

Discipline, work, self-sacrifice—these are not an affront to the grace of God shown us, but the purpose and product of it.

Christopher Zoccali