“Pressing On Toward the Goal”: Spiritual Formation Through Forgetting & Pursuing

There will never be a point in the Christian life where you or I have arrived at the end of our spiritual growth. Being conformed into the image of our Savior is a life-long process that will come to its culmination in the new heavens and new earth. Yet, our experience of spiritual formation does change over the years. In other words, spiritual growth looks different for those who have been walking with Jesus for 2 years, versus 32 years, versus 62 years.

What does spiritual formation look like when you’re a seasoned pastor or ministry leader? What about those who have labored diligently to integrate their faith with their vocations in business, medicine, law, education, and more? Of course, there will always be key disciplines we continue to practice, such as reading Scripture, prayer, corporate worship, fellowship, etc. Nevertheless, if you have been a Christian for decades, there comes a point when you are no longer a “novice” in the Christian life and growth looks and feels different for you.

The apostle Paul had been a follower of the Way for at least 30 years by the time he sent his letter to the church in Philippi. His early years as a believer were spent in preparation, followed by multiple missionary journeys, that gave way to years of imprisonment near the end of his ministry. By that point, Paul was familiar with the rhythms of serving the risen Lord. Nevertheless, he readily acknowledged that he had not yet arrived at the end goal of resurrection life:

Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it [i.e., resurrection life] my own. But 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 upward call of God in Christ Jesus. (Phil. 3:13–14)

We see in the apostle’s words a commitment to spiritual growth through two acts: forgetting and pursuing. Those two efforts are represented as continuous and synchronous. And both deserve our attention and reflection.

Forgetting

Given all the stories in the book of Acts about the hardship and persecution that followed Paul throughout his missionary journeys, it is surprising that he does not list any of these stories as what he seeks to forget. His commitment to forget “what lies behind” refers back to 3:4–6 where he details past qualifications. Paul has already dismissed such things of the flesh as loss for the sake of gaining Christ. The language of loss and gain came from the sphere of commerce and accounting in the ancient world. While others might put confidence in such things, thereby placing them in the “gain” column of their ledger, Paul now assigns them to the “loss” category because of the “gain” of knowing Christ Jesus his Lord.

It’s important to state something obvious about what Paul just admitted. He had not “forgotten” all those past qualifications and actions in the sense that he could not recall them to mind. He just listed them out, so clearly, he “remembered” them. Paul’s commitment to “forget” such things involved continuously reminding himself that they did not define who he was. They still belong in the loss column. Thus, he reminds us of an essential truth about the challenge of spiritual formation, namely, that it is not ultimately about the external hardships that happen to us throughout life. The challenge is truly more a matter of our own heart. It is about how we understand who the Lord has made us to be—and redeemed us to be—in union with his Son.

How we construct our sense of self is complex. Each of us has our own inherent personality, interests, strengths, weaknesses, habits, besetting sins, and more. And we each have a story that involves moments of joy and triumph, as well as moments of pain and failure. Some of those things compete to occupy the center stage in our sense of who we are. Paul’s list indicates at least three realities in which we should be careful not to place our “confidence”: failures, successes, and perceptions.

1. Failures. Paul briefly hints at his sense of failure here when he acknowledges that he was a “persecutor of the church” (Phil. 3:6). Yet, the memory that he persecuted Christians prior to his conversion is something that clearly followed him throughout his ministry. The Bible records Paul explicitly referring to this part of his story five more times in Acts 22:4; 26:9–11; 1 Cor. 15:9; Gal 1:13; and 1 Tim. 1:13. The fact that Paul formerly persecuted Christians led him to say that he was the “least of the apostles” (1 Cor. 15:9) and the “chief of sinners” (1 Tim. 1:15). It also seems the implicit background to his claim to be the “least of all the saints” in Ephesians 3:8. Clearly, this part of his story informed his self-perception.

As if this were not enough, Paul also acknowledges realities of his own sinful weaknesses elsewhere. For instance, he admits being prone to arrogance if left to his own devices, so much so that the Lord gave him a thorn in the flesh to inhibit that tendency (2 Cor. 12:7). Also, he narrates with astonishing accuracy the experience of sin lying in wait to sabotage any good we want to do; it’s an experience to which most Christians can easily relate (Rom. 7:15–25). Simply put, Paul seems to have a clear understanding of his past and present failures.

I have yet to meet a fellow Christian who cannot point to significant failures in his or her past. Likewise, it is not difficult for me to remember my own past failures. Some of them were relatively minor and some of them were significant. To be honest, regardless of the size or extent of each failure, they all try to convince me that there is something deeply wrong with me. For some people, that narrative becomes so strong that they begin to believe their future will be nothing but a series of failures and ensuing hardship.

2. Successes. Several items in Paul’s list reveal his former pride in the things that he did well. He took pride in being a “Hebrew of Hebrews” (Phil. 3:5), citing his genealogy to Abraham within the tribe of Benjamin (cf. Rom. 11:1), as well as being circumcised on the eighth day. He was a Pharisee regarded as blameless before the Law. While we have become used to viewing the Pharisees as self-righteous hypocrites, it’s important to remember that they were usually highly regarded amongst the Jews for their rigorous adherence to the Law. A final source of pride was being “educated at the feet of Gamaliel” (Acts 22:3), who to this day is still a highly regarded rabbi in the history of Judaism.

Beyond the potential for pride in his Jewish origins, Paul also made clear he could take pride in his apostolic ministry. In 2 Corinthians 11:23, he confronts the super-apostles by saying he is a “better” apostle. In 2 Thessalonians 2:1–10, he commends his ministry to the church as approved by God to the point that he could have made demands of them. Instead, he worked tirelessly so as not to be a burden to them and treated them with parental concern. Such was his ministry that Paul would later commend himself to the church as an example (2 Thess. 3:7–9), just as he did to the church in Corinth (1 Cor. 4:14–20; 11:1). Paul clearly was aware that he pursued faithfulness to the Lord “successfully.”

We also can point to successes in our lives. Many pastors know the temptation to say, “I built this church” to its present state of health. Many counselors hear that they saved marriages and changed an individual’s life around. Leaders establish healthy organizations. Doctors save lives. Teachers become the impetus for others’ life trajectories. Most of us have something we can point to in our past with great pride. That pride is not inherently inappropriate or sinful, but it can begin to whisper to us: “You’re amazing!”

3. Perceptions. In several of his letters, Paul gives us glimpses into his self-experience. For instance, he told the Corinthians that he ministered to them “in weakness and in fear and much trembling” (1 Cor. 2:3). He was aware that the super-apostles criticized him for sending “weighty and strong” letters when he was physically and rhetorically unimpressive in person (2 Cor. 10:10). Theologians debate whether his reference to writing “with large letters” in Galatians 6:11 implies that he experienced some form of physical limitation. And then there was the reality of his hardships: imprisonments, beatings, shipwrecks, and more (2 Cor. 11:23–27). To what degree these things informed Paul’s own sense of self is unknown. But he mentions such things enough to indicate that he was clearly aware of how he and others perceived him.

I am not a very athletic person. I’m not good at golf, tennis, basketball, or soccer like many of my colleagues. There are times when I have to remind myself that being unathletic is not a sin. I have not morally failed God and others because I rarely can shoot par on one hole at the golf course. Even so, I still wrestle with feeling like there is something wrong with me because of this. Such self-perceptions can plague a person. Perhaps it’s being disorganized or idealistic or shy or whatever. There are truths about us that do not count as being “something wrong.” But it feels like it, and that can compete for our sense of identity.

Why does that matter? Because who we believe ourselves to be will inform how we pursue growth into being like Christ. If our sense of self is wrapped up in our failures, our successes, or our perceptions, then those realities will exert power on how we direct our lives. In his commentary on Philippians, Ralph Martin said:

“To forget,” in the biblical sense of the word, is not just simply to obliterate from the mind (if that is indeed possible). It is rather the opposite of “remembering” (anamnēsis), which, as a biblical term, carries the important dynamic meaning of a recalling from the past into the present of an action which lies buried in history, in such a way that the result of the past action is made potently present.¹

We can be tempted to “remember” our successes, failures, and perceptions in a way that gives them power to narrate our identity. What Paul calls us to do is to “forget” those things. That does not mean we cannot call them to mind. It means they do not have the power to narrate who we are—and who we believe ourselves to be will inform how we seek to grow.

Pursuing

What should have the power to narrate who we are? What does serve as the guide for our spiritual growth? We find it in the second action of Philippians 3:14: “straining forward to what lies ahead.” For Paul, that which lies ahead is not a code word for wishful thinking about a brighter future. Within the context of Philippians 3, that which is ahead is the resurrection. In other words, it is nothing less than the glorified life promised to us through salvation in Christ. The reality of who we will be is what both informs and drives our spiritual growth. Paul unpacks three features of that new life in Philippians 3.

1. Justification. After Paul articulates the list of his former qualifications, he articulates the recalibration of gain and loss. That which used to be gain (i.e., his past identity markers) was regarded as loss. But he indicates that he must continue to assign such things to the loss column so that only Christ will be in the gain column. This is where his theology of union with Christ shines through completely. The person who has “gained” Christ is also the person who is “found in” Christ (3:8–9). We are so united to Christ that we abide in him as he abides in us.

The first virtue of being united to Christ is that it brings our justification. Paul follows being found in Christ with that explicitly: “Not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith” (Phil. 3:9). Prior to his conversion, Paul regarded himself as blameless before the Law. But now he does not look to his adherence to the Law as the source of righteousness, but rather to the righteousness provided from God, through faith, in Christ.

Our justification in Christ is not merely an important theological principal. It has the power to disarm the things in our story that we are tempted to let define us. Justification speaks to the whispers of our failures, successes, and perceptions that seek to define who we are and will be. Those things are realities in our stories, but they do not control our story. We have been made right with the God who created us. And within that is both the freedom from our former self and the power from our Lord to pursue a life in keeping with his design.

2. Identity. We are empowered to pursue a life in conformity to Christ out of our union with him. That is why Paul says next that he wants to know Christ and the “power of his resurrection” (3:10). This power is not simply a good example that Jesus provided for us or a Scripture pep talk about how he has already won the battle. Being united to Christ means that we have already participated in all that he has done, even though we have not yet fully experienced it as we wait for the last day. We were raised with Christ when he rose from the dead (cf. Eph. 2:6; Col. 2:12; 3:1). Put differently, what is imputed to us in union with Christ is not just his righteousness, but also his resurrection life.

One day, Christ will return and all who are his will be raised into the full culmination of everlasting life. Right now, we experience that in part, and we can see it as through a mirror dimly (cf. 1 Cor. 13:12). Yet, when we speak about our “identity in Christ,” we are ultimately referring to what each of us will be on the last day. That is who we really are already in Christ. And that identity is what each of us is seeking to grow into through the resurrection power of Christ mediated to us by the Holy Spirit. That dynamic is what Paul later describes as “the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 3:14). The Lord is calling us to live up to the prize of our resurrection self that has be won for us and given to us in Christ Jesus.

That may sound abstract, but it can become very concrete and real in everyday circumstances. When someone cuts you off in traffic, is rude to you at work, or doesn’t help pick up the house at home, it can be easy to respond from places of pride, selfishness, or woundedness. Yet, if we can catch ourselves, we can consider how our glorified self would respond: a response that communicates love and patience even as it names harm or injustice. Such a posture becomes all the more important in moments where the stakes are high, like a conversation where a marriage hangs in the balance, or with a rebellious and spiteful teenager, or with a congregant who is dividing the church. Sadly, all of us find it easy to repay evil with evil, but responding to evil from a posture of righteousness takes effort and intentionality.

3. Perseverance. That tendency in all of us is why Paul does not dodge the hard truth: this will be a lifelong pursuit that involves suffering. In the space of three verses, Philippians 3:12–14, Paul says twice that he “presses on” toward this goal and then adds for good measure that he “strains” toward it. The Greek words for those terms could be translated as “pursue” and “exert every effort,” respectively. This indicates that he does not regard growth toward our glorious self as an easy daytime stroll. It takes a relentless pursuit that requires all our effort.

Moreover, he acknowledges that experiencing the power of resurrection life will include with it experiencing suffering. Becoming more like Christ does not only include the glory of his resurrection, but the pain of his death. It means that we will share in the sufferings and sorrow of the Messiah. In part, this is due to the reality that the world is not receptive to God’s truth and righteousness. Jesus warned us that the world will hate us just as it hated him first (John 15:18–21). The apostle Peter also acknowledged that believers will suffer even for doing good (1 Peter 3:13–17; 4:12–14). It follows then that our spiritual growth may lead to an experience of greater hostility from the world around us.

This is because as we become more conformed to what God intended for humanity to be, we see more acutely the depths and sorrows of depravity. The more we experience life in Christ, the more awful the reality of death in all its forms appears. A child who says “I hate you!” to his or her parents cannot fully understand how hurtful that is, whereas a parent can appreciate just how powerful and damaging such words would be. In the same way, as we grow in our love for God and others, we can see and feel more clearly just how damaging hatred, jealously, greed, selfishness and other vices are. And that is painful.

The simple fact is that most of us have adopted strategies to avoid pain. We know what things not to say to a friend or an employer if we don’t want to be frustrated or hurt. We make vows to ourselves never to be vulnerable about certain things with those we love. We sit in a different part of the sanctuary from those who have offended us or are simply irritating. It is both understandable and even sometimes a mark of wisdom. But it is not what the Lord intended for humanity in the beginning. And it is not what he is redeeming us to in the last day. So, it is left to us, in reliance upon the Spirit’s guidance, to discern where and when we are called to risk the possibility of suffering as we are being conformed to the image of Christ.

The Goal of the Prize

As the Westminster Standards remind us, the Lord created humanity to glorify and enjoy him forever. We are designed to be and live in such a way that as we image him, we find our true delight and satisfaction. That means there is something we all desperately long for: glory—life in the presence of the glory of God, and the derivative glorious life that he intended for us. Who would say no to a life where we feel constantly surrounded by those who love us and are fundamentally more concerned for our well-being as we reciprocally love and are more concerned for them? And when all of that is in the presence of our loving God, who would turn it down? That is the goal of our spiritual growth and the prize that awaits us in glory.

Paul says he moves toward that goal in two ways: by forgetting and by pursuing. We follow him by forgetting in the sense of regarding our failures, successes, and self-perceptions as powerless to define who we are. And we follow him by pursuing that which—and Who—does define who we are: Christ Jesus and our union with him. It takes a lot of effort. It’s risky and even painful sometimes. But it’s worth it. By God’s grace, we seek to make it our own because it is Christ our Lord who has made us his own. Hallelujah!

Endnotes

[1] Ralph P. Martin, Philippians: An Introduction and Commentary, Tyndale New Testament Commentaries 11 (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1987), 160.

Note: This article first appeared in the spring 2026 edition of Covenant magazine. Get your copy or subscribe to Covenant here.