Thank you for coming back. I know I wrote a lot yesterday, and I appreciate your patience as we turn to Philippians chapters 3 and 4.
Americans—and, most cultures—love their pets. We have three cats, four if you count the feral one who visits our back porch every morning for food. For most of my life, I’ve also had a dog. After my injury, I had a service dog named Drifter. Through a program called HandiDogs of Tucson, he learned to walk beside me off leash, and when on leash never to pull, because my balance with a cane was fragile. He would brace me so I could stand, and even pick up dropped car keys. He was an incredible service dog. But even more—he was a companion.
Today, we think of dogs as family. But in biblical times, especially in ancient Jerusalem and Rome, dogs were not household pets. As scavengers, they roamed around trash heaps, fighting for scraps. They were useful for hunting or protection, but not beloved family members. People considered them savage creatures.
Watch Out for Those Dogs
So when Paul writes, “Watch out for those dogs” (Philippians 3:2 NIV), he is not offering a compliment. In Jewish culture, calling someone a “dog” was a harsh insult—often directed toward Gentiles. Paul flips the insult back on the Judaizer’s—those who insisted Gentile believers had to be circumcised to be saved (Acts 15:1).
He calls them “dogs” because they were scavenging and fighting over scraps—pushing physical circumcision as though it were establishing righteousness. God commanded circumcision (Genesis 17:9–14), but people made it an idol. They trusted in the flesh rather than the Spirit (Romans 2:28–29). Instead of celebrating Gentile believers, they drove them away with demands God never placed upon them.
An eight-day-old child already screams when the mohel circumcises him. But imagine being a grown man who is told he must undergo this painful act to join the church. No wonder Paul confronted it.
Loving the Wrong Things
We too often focus on the wrong things. Even when we look toward heaven, we imagine it as an improved version of Earth. We think in terms of mansions (John 14:2), even though if Jesus is outside, why would we ever want to be indoors? We picture streets of gold (Revelation 21:21) as though wealth will matter there. Gold will have no value in heaven; Jesus is the only treasure.
Paul makes a simple point: it’s time to let go of the things that don’t hold any significance. We fixate on the temporary, even though this world “is passing away” (1 John 2:17). Our true citizenship is in heaven (Philippians 3:20).
Many protest, “But this is our home.” Not if we want glory. Not if we seek Christ. This life is temporary. The world will pass away (2 Peter 3:10–12), just as our bodies will. Yet God provides all we need in this life and the next (Philippians 4:19). And the only thing we need—here or there—is Christ Himself (Philippians 3:8).
Possessed by Our Possessions
Men find this offensive. We try to gain more—more money, more comfort, more recognition—and we place unrealistic value on what we gather. Before long, our possessions possess us. We fight over scraps of temporary pleasure the way dogs fight over trash.
Paul reminds us we do not find our genuine treasure in the flesh or in earthly gain. “Whatever were gains to me I now consider loss for the sake of Christ” (Philippians 3:7). To win the prize, we must “press on toward the goal” (Philippians 3:14), not for comfort, but to “know Christ” (Philippians 3:10).
Here, we are visitors (Hebrews 11:13). Our focus must be on Jesus Christ’s eternal presence (2 Corinthians 4:17–18). He is our light and all we will need.
Tomorrow, we will read Colossians 1-4.
Footnotes
- “Philippians Overview,” The Bible Project, accessed December 3, 2025, https://bibleproject.com/guides/book-of-philippians/.
- “Philippians 3–4 Commentary,” Enduring Word, accessed December 3, 2025, https://enduringword.com/bible-commentary/philippians-3/.