Don’t Rest on Your Laurels

Philippians 3:12-21

12 Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. 13 Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, 14 I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.

15 All of us, then, who are mature should take such a view of things. And if on some point you think differently, that too God will make clear to you. 16 Only let us live up to what we have already attained.

17 Join together in following my example, brothers and sisters, and just as you have us as a model, keep your eyes on those who live as we do. 18 For, as I have often told you before and now tell you again even with tears, many live as enemies of the cross of Christ. 19 Their destiny is destruction, their god is their stomach, and their glory is in their shame. Their mind is set on earthly things. 20 But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ, 21 who, by the power that enables him to bring everything under his control, will transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like his glorious body.

I remember growing up and hearing stories about how girls and young women were negatively affected by the images that they saw in magazines. These models were young, beautiful, flawless, and thin. Child psychologists brought to our attention the measurements and proportions of Barbie dolls, 32-16-29. The women of my generation grew up with unrealistic expectations placed upon them by the world of high fashion and children’s toys alike. The message was that this is what the world considers beautiful, and if you don’t literally “measure up,” then you are not beautiful.

What received a lot less attention was the pressure put upon us boys. No, we didn’t play with Barbies, we played with action figures, like He-Man and Superman. We watched Hulk Hogan and his 24-inch pythons. Now, thinking back, it is interesting that Hulk Hogan’s biceps were nearly the size of Barbie’s hips.

I think kids today have it even harder than we did. Not only do they have to compare their bodies to these ideals, they are always confronted with people doing something better or faster than they can. A large part of this is social media, like YouTube. My children watch videos of guys making trick shots, kicking soccer balls into trash cans from fifty yards away. They see videos of children singing like Pavarotti, playing like Mozart, and with moves like Jagger. What they don’t see is the 529 times the soccer player missed that shot, or the guy didn’t nail the skateboard trick. They don’t see the photo before it is Photoshopped.

My warning to my children and to everyone else is be careful when comparing yourself to these images. It is very easy to open a magazine, turn on your iPad, or television, and become discouraged or even depressed. This phenomenon is just as real in the Christian world as it is in the secular. This guy over here feeds thousands of people with the vegetables he grows on his own farm. This pastor preaches to thousands of people every week and has written a dozen books. She leads a weekly Bible or book study.

The point I want to make in all of this is not that you are perfect just the way you are. Nobody is perfect. We can always do better. But rather than compare ourselves to the people around us, who have likely edited, Photoshopped, or otherwise altered what version of their selves we see, I want to encourage you to compare yourself to two people. One is Jesus himself, and the other is the you of yesterday. You will never be at the level of Jesus, and that’s where grace comes in. But what you can do is be a better version of yourself today than you were yesterday.

Now I am very aware that that can come off as a wishy-washy, self-help kind of Christianity. Those kinds of Christianity make me a little sick, so don’t think I’m going to tell you how to have your best life yet. What I want to talk about today is how to become more and more like Jesus. In some traditions, they call that “sanctification.” In the Mennonite tradition, we call it discipleship.

I want to start with a little context for our scripture this morning because when we start at chapter 3, verse 12, we can easily misunderstand what Paul is trying to say. Paul writes this letter to the church in Philippi, a city established around 350 BC and named after King Philip II of Macedonia. It was a very Greek city, and like much of the territory during Paul’s day, it was occupied by the Romans. In Acts we find that Paul helps to start a Christian church in Philippi. Philippi was the home of Lydia, the woman who sold purple cloth. And this is also the place where Paul and Silas were arrested and end up preaching to and converting their prison guard.

When we read Paul’s letter to the Philippians, we see that Paul is very thankful for the church there, but they’ve got a way to go. Paul gives them a compliment, but then he also offers a growing edge (not a critique). After giving thanks for the Philippians, Paul encourages them to be like Jesus. He writes in 2:5, “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus.” This is where Paul invites his readers to “Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves.”

So what does Paul do after telling others to be humble? He gives the people a rundown of his resume. 3:4b-6: “If someone else thinks they have reasons to put confidence in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; in regard to the law, a Pharisee; as for zeal, persecuting the church; as for righteousness based on the law, faultless.”

But Paul follows up his resume by saying that compared to knowing Christ, all of his achievements are “garbage” (NIV), or “rubbish” (NRSV). In Greek, the word is the famous “scubalon,” which literally means animal poop, and it is the equivalent of our “S word” in English.

So Paul isn’t just bragging. He is telling the Philippians that they are doing really well, but better is possible. Never settle for good enough when it comes to discipleship. He uses his own life as an example: if anyone has reason to boast, it is Paul! But all of that is just scubalon.

This is the context for our scripture this morning, where Paul says in verses 13-14, “Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.”

When we read all of Philippians together, we realize that Paul isn’t bragging. He is saying don’t rest on your previous victories. Forget about what you’ve already done and press on to what is ahead. Press on, because better is possible.

I want to pump the brakes here just a bit and make sure to differentiate between what I’m talking about and what might be called the Christian self-help industry. You can buy books, attend conferences, and join studies based on scriptures that can teach you how to have Your Best Life Now. There is even a board game based on the book.

Yes, I believe God wants us to have our finances in order. Yes, I think God wants those of us who are married to have a healthy relationship with our spouse. Yes, I think God wants us to be healthy. But what I’m speaking of today is about being conformed in the image of Jesus Christ, the homeless, itinerant preacher who was killed for challenging the status quo. Your best life is found in following Jesus, but that will probably look a lot different than the health and wealth of the prosperity gospel.

You’ve probably heard the phrase, “Don’t rest on your laurels.” It is one of the idioms that people use and often don’t give any thought to. I googled the phrase and found out that the evergreen wreaths that were often used to crown the champions in ancient athletic events were made from bay laurel plant, or the laurus nobilis. The laurel wreath is a symbol of victory, and to this day we refer to people who win certain honors, like the Nobel Prize, as laureates.

To rest on our laurels means to be happy with what you have previously accomplished. We’ve all met that 40-year-old who still talks about high school football as if it happened last year. “Back in my day, I could throw a pig skin a quarter mile.” What have you done recently? Have you tried to improve upon your achievements, or are you resting on your laurels?

I think athletics provide a very helpful metaphor for us. Paul himself writes in 1 Timothy 4:7b-8, “Train yourself to be godly. For physical training is of some value, but godliness has value for all things, holding promise for both the present life and the life to come.”

Like Paul, I’m not trying to brag, but make a point. Yesterday I completed my second ½ marathon. Last year I completed the 13.1 miles well under my goal of two hours. I could have rested on my laurels; I’d done something most people never will. (I was also quite humbled when I reminded myself that I had only run half of a marathon.) But this year I wanted to do better. I wanted to beat my previous time, train harder, train smarter.

I started off this morning by recalling all of the images of the perfect male and female bodies that many of us grew up with, and how these images are simply unattainable for most of us. We need to be careful comparing ourselves to others, but instead compare ourselves to who we were yesterday, or the week, or month, or year before. I will never win a major race. Earlier this month a 70-year-old man ran the Boston Marathon in 3 hours. I’m more than 30 years younger than he is, and I can’t run half as far in half the time. This isn’t about being the best in the world. If being the best in the world is my goal, I’m going to fail and I’m going to be discouraged. I may just quit. But this isn’t about being the best, this is about being best version of yourself.

As of the time I’m writing this sermon, I don’t know how I’m going to do. I may improve on my time, I may run slower. I may not even finish. It is currently cold and rainy out, which is the perfect weather to pull a hamstring. But either way, I tried. I didn’t simply rest on my laurels, I didn’t simply say I achieved something at one time and now I’m set. Paul’s whole message to the church in Philippi is this: You’ve done some things really well. Now do better. Now do more.

It may seem obvious that the physical training metaphor eventually breaks down, because our physical bodies break down. There is a limit to how good, fast, or strong we can become, and after a certain age, we decrease. Father Time waits for no one. This was never meant to be about our physical training, but our discipleship. You said a prayer yesterday? Good! Now do more today. You read a chapter of the Bible? Excellent, now read two. You forgave that person who wronged you, you helped a needy person, you visited a person in prison. Well done! Now do more. Even when your physical body deteriorates, there is always something that you can do to grow in your likeness of Christ.

But here’s the thing that I find the most difficult: I fear failure. I fear people looking at me and thinking that I can’t do something. What will people say if I fail? What will they say if they find out I’m even trying? So I find it very comfortable to keep doing things the same way I’ve always done them. I find it very comfortable to rest on my laurels.

As a parent, I find this very disheartening, because I want my children to try new things, to push through their doubts, and do what they know is right. And if they fail along the way, that’s okay. Some of the best lessons we learn come from our failures. My son is trying out for a soccer league right now, and I hesitated to even let him try out because I didn’t want to see him fail. But if he fails, he will still be fine, and he can still play rec league. And what if he doesn’t fail? What if he makes the team? There is only one way to find out. You have to try.

Perhaps you’ve heard the famous quote from Thomas Edison, who said, “I haven’t failed. I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work.” Or maybe you recall the story of the high school student from North Carolina who was cut from the basketball team, and went on to become the greatest of all time. Michael Jordan once said in a commercial, “I’ve missed more than 9000 shots in my career. I’ve lost almost 300 games. 26 times, I’ve been trusted to take the game winning shot and missed. I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed.”

When I think of Jesus’s disciples, I often come back to Peter. Peter was the one who always spoke first and thought second. He made suggestions that didn’t seem to line up with Jesus’s mission. He is the one who cut off a soldier’s ear when they came to arrest Jesus. Peter probably made more mistakes than any other follower of Jesus in the Bible. But Peter is also one of the first to proclaim that Jesus is the messiah, the Son of the Living God. Peter was the one who was given the keys to the kingdom of God, and many claim that he was the first of a long line of church leaders.

My friends, the point that I am trying to make, the point that Paul was trying to make, is that you have done some phenomenal things for God and his kingdom. Well done, now do more. Don’t try to do more than your neighbor; don’t compare yourself to others. Try to be a better version of yourself than you were yesterday. Don’t look back, don’t rest on your laurels. And yes, you will fail. But when you fail, you will join a great list of failures. We call that group “the church.” We will fail, and we may fail often, but when we are trying to do better and be better for the kingdom of God, there is no such thing as a failure.