There's something profoundly dangerous lurking in the Christian life today, and it's not what you might expect. It's not rebellion or outright rejection of faith. It's something far quieter, far more subtle: the belief that our past obedience is sufficient for our present moment.
Too many of us have arrived at a place of spiritual comfort. We've prayed before. We've believed before. We've stepped out in faith before. And somewhere along the journey, we've settled into a Christianity that feels "good enough." We attend church, we know the right answers in Bible study, we might even fast when everyone else does—but there's no movement, no momentum, no evidence of God actively transforming our daily lives.

Already Justified, Still Being Sanctified
The Apostle Paul addresses this tension beautifully in Philippians 3:12-14. He writes with striking honesty: "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."
Here's a man who planted churches, suffered persecution, and witnessed miracles. Yet Paul refuses to claim he has "arrived." His salvation is secure—that's justification, the finished work of Christ declaring us righteous. But his sanctification—the ongoing work of the Spirit making us holy—is still active, still in motion.

This distinction matters immensely. Justification is God's act of declaring sinners righteous through faith in Christ's atoning sacrifice. It's complete, finished, settled. Sanctification, however, is the Spirit's ongoing process of shaping our hearts to be more like Jesus. The person you were yesterday doesn't have to be the person you are tomorrow, because Christ is continually working within you.

Paul isn't striving to earn God's love or working to secure his salvation. He's responding to a love that has already claimed him. And that response requires movement.

Grace That Moves, Not Just Covers
Here's where we often get it wrong: we think of grace only as covering our sins. And it does—gloriously, completely, eternally. But grace doesn't just save us; it moves us. Grace that only covers without propelling us forward becomes an excuse for spiritual stagnation.
Christian movement flows from being in Christ, not from striving to be accepted by Christ. We're not performing for approval; we're responding to a love that has already embraced us fully. This guards us from two dangerous extremes: legalism, where movement becomes mere performance, and passivity, where grace becomes a license for complacency.

The woman with the issue of blood understood this. For twelve years she suffered, spending everything on doctors who couldn't help her. The world called her situation hopeless. But when she heard Jesus was passing by, she didn't ask for a meeting or demand attention. She simply believed that one touch would be enough. In a crowded moment when no one else noticed her, heaven noticed. She touched the hem of Jesus' garment and was instantly healed.
One touch was enough because her faith required movement. She didn't drift toward healing; she pressed through the crowd with intention.

Forgetting What's Behind, Straining Toward What's Ahead
Paul uses powerful language in Philippians 3:13—he speaks of "forgetting what's behind and straining toward what is ahead." He's not erasing memories or pretending the past didn't happen. He's refusing to let the past define what God wants to do through him.
This includes both past failures that produce shame and past successes that produce pride. The gospel frees us from regret and nostalgia simultaneously. If failure defines you, you stop moving forward. If success defines you, you stop growing.

The word "straining" is significant. Paul isn't casually strolling into his future. He's exerting effort, pushing forward, acknowledging that the journey won't always be easy—but it will be worth it. This is a man who has been beaten, whipped, and persecuted, yet he says, "That was then. God is still calling me to more."

The Goal Is Christ Himself
What exactly is Paul pressing toward? Verse 14 tells us: "I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus."
The prize isn't a status or an achievement. The goal isn't moral excellence or self-improvement. The goal is Christ himself. Earlier in the chapter, Paul writes, "I want to know Christ." Not just know about him, but know him intimately, personally, transformatively.
Christ is both the way and the destination. He's not merely an example we follow; he's the life we participate in. This is what makes the church beautiful—we're a community of imperfect people with one shared ambition: to be aligned with Christ.
John 15 reminds us that if we remain in Christ, he remains in us. The moments we feel disconnected from God aren't because he's moved away; we've drifted. And drift is one of the greatest dangers in the Christian life—not dramatic rebellion, but subtle, gradual movement away from our first love.

Pruning Produces Fruitfulness
Jesus teaches that every branch connected to him that doesn't bear fruit gets pruned so it can bear even more fruit. Pruning sounds harsh, but it's not punishment—it's preparation. God removes what limits growth so that obedience can expand and fruitfulness can flourish.
Some seasons require new disciplines, new boundaries, new obediences. We can't drift into spiritual maturity. We can't accidentally grow in faith. Abiding in Christ is intentional, and those who abide bear much fruit.
Where there's no movement, there's no growth. Where there's no growth, discipleship has stalled. Standing still isn't a neutral position; it allows weights to accumulate in our hearts and minds. The writer of Hebrews warns repeatedly against drifting away—not running from God, but slowly, almost imperceptibly, losing our sense of urgency for what Christ wants to do in us.

Made for More
The invitation is clear: God is calling us to more. Not more activity for activity's sake, but more of himself. More transformation, more obedience, more fruitfulness, more participation in his life and mission.

This isn't about perfection. God can handle your doubts, questions, fears, and anxieties. This is about momentum—holy momentum that flows from grace, not guilt. It's about refusing to waste the grace God renews every morning by staying stagnant when he's calling us forward.
Your faith should come through your fingertips. What you believe in your heart should flow through your hands, your words, your daily choices. Faith without movement isn't really faith at all—it's mere belief that requires nothing of us.
The question isn't whether we're too old or too young, too experienced or too new. The question is: will we press on? Will we strain forward? Will we let Christ continue his transforming work in us, even when it's difficult?

Because the reality is this: we are made for more. And the God who took hold of us first is calling us heavenward, inviting us to press on toward the goal—toward knowing him more fully, loving him more deeply, and living out the abundant life he purchased for us.
The empty chairs around us represent people who need this hope. The world around us is desperate for believers who don't just know about God but who are being actively transformed by him.

So let's press on together—not in our own strength, but in response to a grace that saves completely and moves us continually toward the prize: Christ himself.