Philippians 3:7-11
Sometimes everything changes with a single word.
In Philippians 3:7, Paul writes, “But whatever things were gain to me…” That word—but—marks a turning point not only in his argument, but in his life.
Just before this, Paul laid out his religious résumé—heritage, discipline, zeal, public righteousness. If anyone could have trusted in spiritual achievement, it was Paul. His credentials were real. His effort was sincere.
But then he met Christ.
And everything moved.
Paul describes that shift like an accountant reviewing a ledger. What once counted as gain he now counts as loss—for the sake of Christ. He is not saying those things were sinful. He is not rejecting obedience or faithfulness. He is relocating them.
They were never bad things. They were simply in the wrong place.
Before Christ, those achievements carried his confidence. After Christ, they no longer defined him. They moved from the center to the margins.
When Christ becomes your treasure, everything else finds its proper place.
Paul goes further: he counts all things as loss “in view of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.” That is not the language of duty—it is the language of delight. Christ is not merely helpful. He is surpassingly valuable.
Paul does not say he wants forgiveness alone or heaven alone. He says he wants to gain Christ.
Not a system.
Not a résumé.
A Person.
There is no substitute for knowing Christ. Church attendance cannot replace Him. Religious background cannot replace Him. Moral effort cannot replace Him. Those things may matter—but they are not treasure.
Only Christ is.
That is why Paul contrasts two kinds of righteousness: one derived from the law, and one that comes from God through faith in Christ. One is achieved. The other is received. One rests on performance. The other rests on grace.
When Christ becomes your treasure, you stop clinging to a righteousness of your own and rest in His. Obedience does not disappear—but it changes position. It becomes a response to grace, not an attempt to earn it. Confidence shifts from self to Savior.
And this treasuring of Christ is not static. Paul says, “that I may know Him.” He already knows Christ, yet he longs to know Him more deeply. He wants resurrection power at work in his daily life. He wants even suffering to deepen his fellowship with Christ. He wants his life shaped by the pattern of Christ’s death and resurrection.
When Christ is your treasure, even suffering finds its place. It is no longer meaningless. It becomes fellowship. Daily surrender is no longer loss—it is conformity to the One you love.
Paul looks ahead to the resurrection with steady hope. Because Christ lives, Paul knows resurrection is coming. That future shapes the present. When Christ is your treasure, you are no longer striving to secure your standing. You are already secure in Him.
This passage does not call us to despise obedience or dismiss years of faithfulness. It calls us to relocate them. Your service matters. Your discipline matters. Your perseverance matters. But they were never meant to carry the weight of your confidence.
Christ was.
Christ is.
Christ will always be.
And when Christ becomes your treasure, everything else—achievement, suffering, obedience, even death—finds its proper place.
