FORGETTING THOSE THINGS WHICH ARE BEHIND A Meditation on Philippians 3:13 Santamaria

FORGETTING THOSE THINGS WHICH ARE BEHIND

A Meditation on Philippians 3:13

“Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended: but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before.” — Philippians 3:13

There is something wonderfully honest in the words of the Apostle Paul. Here is a man who had suffered for Christ, preached the gospel across nations, endured imprisonment, persecution, beatings, rejection, hunger, danger, and opposition. He had been entrusted with extraordinary revelations. He had planted churches and instructed believers. Yet when he looked at himself, he did not say, “I have arrived.” He said, “I count not myself to have apprehended.” That confession alone should humble every child of God. Paul did not measure his spiritual condition by comparing himself with other men. Had he done so, he might easily have found reasons for pride. He measured himself in light of Christ and of the perfection toward which he was pressing. The nearer a believer walks to the light, the more clearly he sees how far short he falls.

Paul knew Christ, but he wanted to know Him more. He had experienced grace, but he had not exhausted its depths. He had learned obedience, but he had not reached perfection. He had fought many battles, but the race was not finished. Thus he declares, “This one thing I do.” There is concentration in those words. Paul’s life had acquired a governing purpose. He was not wandering aimlessly through existence. His energies were gathered around one supreme concern: to follow Christ faithfully until his course was complete. Our lives are often weakened because they are divided among too many competing concerns. We worry about what others think. We revisit old failures. We relive old injuries. We attempt to defend our reputations. We carry regrets that cannot be changed. We sometimes live more intensely in yesterday than in today.

Then comes one of the most misunderstood expressions in the passage: “forgetting those things which are behind.” Paul obviously did not mean that his memory was erased. He remembered his past very well. He remembered that he had persecuted the church. He remembered that he had once opposed the name of Jesus of Nazareth. He remembered his former confidence in the flesh. He remembered his sufferings, God’s deliverances, the churches he had visited, and the people he loved. Forgetting, therefore, does not mean becoming unable to remember. It means refusing to allow the past to control the present.

There are things behind us that can become chains, and some of those things are sins. A believer may have been forgiven by God and yet continue punishing himself for something Christ has already covered. He believes the doctrine of justification, but emotionally he continues standing before a courtroom from which God has already dismissed the charge. Paul understood such a past. He had persecuted Christians, entered houses, dragged believers away, and consented to the death of Stephen. If any man could have spent the remainder of his life consumed by guilt, Paul could have done so. Yet grace would not allow him to live permanently at the grave of the man he once was. Paul did not excuse his past. He called himself a persecutor and described himself as unworthy to be called an apostle. But he also testified, “By the grace of God I am what I am.” That is the balance of grace. The Christian does not deny what he was, glorify what he was, or excuse what he was. But neither does he allow what he was to define forever what God has made him in Christ.

There are also failures behind us. Some failures were the results of sin. Others resulted from weakness, ignorance, poor judgment, or circumstances beyond our control. Perhaps there was an opportunity we lost, a relationship we damaged, a decision we would now make differently, words we wish we could retrieve, years we believe were wasted, doors that closed, or plans that collapsed. The temptation is to live continually asking, “What if?” What if I had chosen differently? What if I had acted sooner? What if I had remained? What if I had left? What if I had known then what I know now? There is no end to such questions. The past can instruct us, but it cannot be rewritten. There comes a point when regret ceases to be repentance and becomes captivity. Repentance turns us toward God. Regret without faith turns us endlessly toward ourselves.

Paul therefore says, “forgetting those things which are behind.” Learn from yesterday. Confess what must be confessed. Make restitution where possible. Seek forgiveness where necessary. But then walk forward. Christ did not save His people so that they might spend their lives staring backward. There are also injuries behind us. Someone wronged us, betrayed our confidence, misrepresented us, abandoned us, or spoke words that remain painfully vivid years later. We may have forgiven with our lips while continuing the trial in our minds. We summon the witnesses again, rehearse the evidence, reconstruct the conversation, imagine what we should have said, and pronounce sentence again. Every time we replay it, we allow the person who wounded us to wound us once more.

“Forgetting those things which are behind” does not mean calling evil good. It does not mean pretending injustice never happened. It does not always mean restored trust. But it does mean refusing to make yesterday’s wound the master of today’s heart. The believer belongs to Christ, not to the person who hurt him. There are even successes that must sometimes be left behind. This may be harder to recognize. Past victories can become just as dangerous as past failures. A church may remember what God did thirty years ago and stop asking what faithfulness requires today. A minister may rely upon sermons that once seemed powerful while his present spiritual life becomes dry. A believer may look back upon some remarkable experience and unconsciously begin living upon yesterday’s manna.

Paul had accomplishments behind him. He could speak of his Hebrew heritage, education, Pharisaic discipline, zeal, and religious reputation. But earlier in Philippians 3 he places these things beneath the surpassing worth of knowing Christ. Yesterday’s achievements cannot substitute for today’s fellowship with God. You cannot walk with Christ today merely because you walked closely with Him twenty years ago. The Christian life cannot be lived on stored memories. Paul therefore joins forgetting with reaching. He says he is “reaching forth unto those things which are before.” The language is vivid. One can almost see a runner stretching his body toward the finish line. His eyes are forward, his body leans forward, and his energy is directed forward. The picture is not of a man sitting comfortably while waiting for heaven. It is movement, effort, desire, and purpose.

Paul’s theology of grace never produced spiritual laziness. He believed absolutely in sovereign grace, yet grace moved him to labor. He knew salvation was of God, yet he pressed toward the mark. There is no contradiction. Grace does not make effort unnecessary; grace makes holy effort possible. The believer does not strive in order to become accepted by God. He strives because he has been accepted in Christ. He does not pursue holiness in order to create justification. He pursues holiness because justification has already brought him into a relationship in which Christ has become his treasure.

This is why the context of Philippians 3 is essential. Paul’s great desire is expressed in verse 10: “That I may know him.” That is what lies before him. Not merely more religious activity, greater reputation, or accomplishment, but Christ. Paul wants to know the power of Christ’s resurrection, the fellowship of His sufferings, and conformity to Him. The goal of the Christian life is therefore not simply improvement. It is Christlikeness. A man can become more disciplined without becoming more Christlike. He can become more knowledgeable without becoming more loving. He can become more successful without becoming more humble. He can become more religious without knowing Christ more deeply. Paul’s eyes were upon something infinitely greater.

“I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.” This pressing forward should not be confused with the modern philosophy of forgetting the past because the past is unpleasant. The world sometimes says, “Forget it and move on.” Paul is saying something deeper. He can leave the past behind because Christ is before him. Christian hope is not psychological optimism. It is not merely believing tomorrow will be better than today. Sometimes tomorrow is harder. Paul himself was heading toward greater suffering and ultimately death. Yet he could reach forward because his future was secured in Christ. The Christian’s future does not rest upon favorable circumstances. It rests upon an unfailing Savior.

That changes the way we regard age as well. As the years pass, more of life lies behind us than before us. There may come a temptation to believe our most useful days are finished. Paul’s words challenge that attitude. As long as God leaves His child in this world, there remains something before him. Perhaps not what was before him thirty years earlier. Strength changes. Health changes. Responsibilities change. Opportunities change. But faithfulness does not become obsolete. A believer may no longer be able to travel, preach publicly, work long hours, or perform the tasks he once performed. He can still pray, encourage, teach, write, bear witness, love, endure patiently, show gratitude, and demonstrate faith before younger generations. Sometimes the testimony of an aged saint trusting God under weakness speaks more powerfully than the accomplishments of earlier years. The race is not over until God says it is over.

Paul’s words also guard us against spiritual pride. “I count not myself to have apprehended.” The mature believer never reaches a point where he no longer needs grace. Indeed, spiritual maturity often produces a deeper awareness of need. The immature man believes he has mastered the Christian life. The mature man knows how much he still lacks. Paul does not despair because he has not apprehended, and neither does he congratulate himself. He presses forward. That is one of the great marks of genuine Christian growth: dissatisfaction without despair. We are dissatisfied because we are not yet what we shall be, but we do not despair because Christ has promised to finish what He began. We grieve over remaining sin, but we know condemnation has been removed. We desire greater holiness, but we know our acceptance rests upon Christ’s righteousness rather than our progress. We stumble, but we rise. We grow tired, but we continue. We look back only long enough to remember God’s faithfulness and learn from our failures, and then we turn our eyes again toward Christ.

There are times when Satan uses the past as an accusation. He says, “You remember what you did. You remember what you were. You remember how badly you failed.” The believer must answer, “Yes, but I also remember what Christ did.” That changes everything. The answer to a sinful past is not amnesia; it is the cross. The answer to failure is not self-justification; it is grace. The answer to fear of the future is not confidence in ourselves; it is confidence in Christ. Paul had a past he could not change, a present in which he had not yet reached perfection, and a future filled with uncertainty. Yet he knew what to do: “This one thing I do.” He would not live backward. He would not be imprisoned by his failures. He would not rest upon his achievements. He would not measure himself by other men. He would reach forward.

And so must we. There are graves behind us, mistakes behind us, disappointments behind us, victories behind us, tears behind us, people behind us whom we loved and can no longer hold, and seasons we cannot recover. But Christ is not behind us only. He is with us now, and the fullness of our fellowship with Him lies before us. The believer therefore walks forward with hope, not because yesterday was painless, not because today is easy, and not because tomorrow is predictable, but because Christ is faithful.

One day the reaching will end. The race will be finished. Faith will become sight. The struggle with sin will cease. There will be nothing more to regret, nothing more to fear, and no unfinished obedience remaining. Until then, Paul’s words remain our calling: “Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended: but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before.”

Do not live chained to yesterday. Do not make a shrine of yesterday’s victories, and do not make a prison of yesterday’s failures. Take the lessons. Remember the grace. Thank God for His mercies. Then turn your face forward. There is still a mark toward which to press, still a Savior to know more deeply, still a course to finish, and still a prize before the people of God in Christ Jesus.