That I may know him
Paul's one ambition
As this stage on the disciplines comes to its close, Paul names the single thing they were all for. He has just listed his impressive religious résumé — the right lineage, the strict observance, the blameless record — and then, astonishingly, counts the whole pile as loss, as refuse, beside one surpassing aim. That I may know him, he says. That is the entire point.
Not that I may master the disciplines. Not that I may be admired as devout, or build an impressive spiritual life, or even that I may be a better person. That I may know him — Christ himself — and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of his sufferings. Everything else, even the genuinely good religious things, Paul will gladly lose if losing them gains him more of Christ.
This is the thread that has run beneath every day of this stage, and it must be said plainly at the end: the means are many, but the end is one. Prayer, the Word, fasting, silence, Sabbath, worship, confession, the table — every discipline is a means, and the moment any of them becomes the point, it has failed. They exist for one thing only: that you may know him. Keep that straight, and the disciplines stay alive. Forget it, and they become the very religion Paul threw away.
“That I may know him, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of his sufferings, becoming conformed to his death.”
— Paul, to the Philippians — Philippians 3:10 (WEB)
Hold every discipline as a means to one end — that you may know Christ himself — and gladly lose any of them to gain more of him.
“I count all things to be loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus, my Lord.”
There is a real and subtle pleasure in the disciplines themselves — in being adept at prayer, fluent in silence, well-read in Scripture — and the pleasure can slowly seat the means where only the Person belongs. The interior work is to keep Paul's single ambition central, that I may know him, holding every practice loosely enough that you would lose any of it gladly to gain more of Christ.
As you close this stage, examine each discipline you have taken up and ask of it honestly: is this bringing me to know Christ, or has it become an end in itself? Recommit each one to its true purpose, and be willing to loosen your grip on any that has quietly become the point.
Spiritual ambition is content to make you devout and admired, so long as you fall for the practices and forget the Person they were meant to reach. But a soul whose whole aim is to know Christ cannot be diverted into the polished religion Paul counted as loss — it keeps walking past every means to the One at the end of them.
It is the quiet danger of any stage like this one: that the means become the end, that we fall in love with the disciplines rather than with the One they were meant to bring us to. A person can become a connoisseur of prayer techniques and silent retreats and Scripture study and never actually draw nearer to Christ — mistaking a rich spiritual life for the living God himself. Paul cuts through it all with his single, clarifying ambition: that I may know him.
So carry this out of the stage as its one indispensable truth. Every discipline you have learned here is a trellis, a gate, a means — and all of them together are worth nothing if they do not bring you to Christ. Hold them loosely enough that you would gladly lose any of them to gain more of him, and they will do their work. As you move on, let this be the question that keeps every practice honest: is this actually bringing me to know him — or has the means quietly become the end?
- Have any of these disciplines quietly become the end rather than the means?
- Am I falling in love with my spiritual life, or with Christ himself?
- Would I gladly lose any practice to gain more of him?
Lord, the means are many, but you are the one end. Keep me from loving the disciplines more than I love you. Let every practice bring me to know you — your resurrection power, your fellowship in suffering — and let me count all else as loss to gain you. Amen.