The call is the prize

When I say the word “prize,” what comes to mind?

A well-known award, such as the Pulitzer or Nobel? Perhaps something a little more everyday – an overstuffed animal from a county fair, a pair of concert tickets for calling the radio station at just the right time? A robe or hat signifying an academic achievement? A wreath of laurels in the classical tradition for a race well run?

Some seek less ostentatious prizes – but they are no less valued. A loving relationship, a house with a white picket fence, a bunch of noisy kids and a meaningful, but generally quiet, life.

I know this is considered a prize, because it is what I used to think God would give me if I made Him happy enough with me. I thought if I was faithful enough, endured heartbreak and deferred hope by keeping my eyes on Him, then He would have no choice but to give me the prize I wanted – on my terms and in my time. After all, it didn’t seem too much to ask, and there was nothing about my desires that contradicted His will.

…right?

In hindsight, I recognize the not-so-subtle legalism (and idolatry) in my previous perspective. What became an even worse problem was the cycle it created – seasons of work and half-feigned, half-real hope that descended into frustration and doubt, until conviction would raise faith from the ashes just long enough to get things going again. But such a cycle cannot last forever – the phoenix grew weaker every time it resurrected. There comes a point at which this understanding must be abandoned and you embrace either a wholly self-centered world in which you are at liberty to seize the prize you seek, or recognize that there is a fundamental flaw in your premise – that God and His rewards may not be what you thought.

I could go on and on about how God is so much greater and wider and deeper than any of us can conceive, how He is certainly not the genie we treat Him like sometimes. But what captured my attention a few weeks ago is how far apart Scripture’s definition of a prize is from my own.

From Paul’s letter to the Philippians:

Not that I have already attained, or am already perfected. I do not count myself to have apprehended, but one thing I do: forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. (3:12-14)

I remember staring at this passage for a full five minutes recently. I had never comprehended before how unnatural this idea was to my flesh. The materialism and – well, the physicality – of the world in which I live had rendered the term prize to something awarded, and with that comes recognition, rest. The prize Paul references here is anything but a pretty award ceremony. What we know of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus from Scripture means the constant putting off of one’s self, of warring against the world, the flesh, and the devil. That’s why perseverance and diligence and other words that connote real work are called for everywhere you look in the New Testament. (Just a few examples I’ve run into lately are Hebrews 4:11, II Peter 3:14, Revelation 13:10.) Our call is the prize – and what a rich call it is to follow in His footsteps, worth every ounce of labor we could ever pour into it, and infinitely more. (Half-tangent: I’ve been reading The Pilgrim’s Progress for the first time, about which I could do a standalone entry, but it’s amazing how that book has reinforced so much with what God has been teaching me in His Word lately…)

So the Reality is far better than I could have asked or imagined, because God doesn’t give us things based on our ability to impress Him. If He did, I wouldn’t have anything. No, He is a gracious and loving Abba who knows what is best for His children, and puts up with their tantrums for their ultimate good. Our prize – His call – includes everything we need, great and small, and at just the right times along the journey… not because of anything we have done, but “because the Lord loves you” (Deuteronomy 7:8).

And, really, whatever prize we can conjure up on this side of eternity is just a stepping stone to another challenge for which we will have to depend on God. We wrestle with discontent and at last walk awhile along a happy plateau of contentment – only to recognize we must now deal with looming complacency. Nothing is static, and in that light, it makes complete sense that our prize is an upward call.

Maybe I'm the last one to realize all this, but it has been a helpful enough revelation to me recently that I thought it worth sharing - if nothing else, as an encouragment to my fellow pilgrims to keep pressing on.

After all, we have confidence in this concerning our call: that He who has begun a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ (Philippians 1:6).