God of Creation or god of Your Belly - Philippians 3:17-4:1

We live in a world that tells us to follow our hearts, indulge our appetites, and pursue whatever makes us happy. Comfort has become the highest good, and pleasure the ultimate goal. But Scripture gives us a sobering warning — that the pursuit of comfort and self-gratification is not neutral; it reveals what we truly worship. The apostle Paul warns the Philippians of those who “walk as enemies of the cross of Christ,” whose “god is their belly.” They may claim Christ, but their lives tell a different story — they are ruled by desire, not by devotion.

This passage forces us to examine what we live for. Do we live for Christ, or for the comfort of our own little kingdoms? The tragedy is that the path of the flesh always ends in destruction, but the beauty of the gospel is that Christ was crucified to free us from our slavery to desire. In Philippians 3:17–4:1, Paul contrasts two ways of living — the way of the cross and the way of the world. One ends in ruin, the other in resurrection. 

The question before us is simple for us this morning: whose kingdom are you living for?

The bottom line is, if you live for comfort, pleasure, and self-gratification then you worship yourself and not Jesus Christ. And we see this play out in our passage in three parts: first, the path of the flesh ends in destruction (vv. 18-19), second the cross calls us to crucify our desires (v. 17), and lastly, the citizens of heaven live for a greater satisfaction (vv. 20-4:1).

The Path of the Flesh Ends in Destruction (v. 18–19)

Paul is clearly warning the Philippians of people coming into their church and teaching things that will lead them astray. He plainly says that these men who will try to lead them astray are enemies of the cross of Jesus Christ. Obviously, Paul is warning the Philippians of these men, but exactly who are these enemies? 

If you recall, earlier in chapter 3 verse 2 Paul instructed the Philippians to, “Look out for the dogs, look out for the evildoers, look out for those who mutilate the flesh.” We understand that to be a reference to the Judaizers. And the Judaizers were those who taught that simply trusting in Jesus Christ wasn’t enough. They taught that in order to be saved you needed to adhere to certain elements of the Old Testament law in addition to trusting in Jesus. Most famously they taught that you had to be circumcised. 

But in our passage this morning, Paul seems to be addressing a different problem. And we learn more about it in verse 19 where he says, “Their end is destruction, their god is their belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things.”

Many of you have probably heard this verse before, especially the part about their god being their belly. Paul is warning the Philippians of a different group causing problems in the church, and this group were carnal, pleasure-seeking hedonists.

These individuals were very different from the Judaizers that Paul warned against earlier in chapter 3. The Judaizers were legalists who stressed works-righteousness. They taught that your salvation wasn’t just dependent on Jesus Christ, but that it was also dependent upon your ability to keep the law. 

But the enemies Paul addresses in verse 19 stand on the opposite end of the heretical spectrum. Instead of adding to the law like the Judaizers, they discarded it entirely. They taught that Christians could cast off all restraint and live however they pleased. As one commentator puts it, “they were sensualists—men who catered to the flesh, gluttonous and grossly immoral.”

This explains why Paul says, “their god is their belly.” Their appetites ruled them. They lived for the cravings of the flesh, and few things are more earthly, more base, or more revealing of misplaced worship than the things we continually indulge and consume. They were consumed with licentious, lawless behavior—but here’s the staggering part: they were teaching that this was the Christian life. That freedom in Christ meant freedom to sin, turning grace into a license for indulgence and calling it spirituality.

Which is exactly what Paul says at the beginning of verse 19: “their end is destruction.”

Living for yourself and pursuing your own desires isn’t the pathway to eternal life—that’s the pathway to eternal destruction. The pursuit of comfort, pleasure, and self-gratification always feels good in the moment, but it is fleeting, empty, and ultimately deadly. 

And of course, this is exactly what the world promises! It promises satisfaction that is so fleeting and temporal. Those who build their lives on the foundation of self-worship often appear happy, but inside they are hollow and it ultimately ends in their own ruin.

The reality is, sin is seductive, and Paul knew that! This hendonist, carnal gospel of the enemies of the cross are feeding the desires of the flesh whispering in the ears of anyone who will listen, “You deserve this. Do what pleases you.” But the gospel calls us to a higher path—a path of crucifixion, obedience, and pursuit of Christ. Eternal life is found not in satisfying the flesh, but in denying it, following Jesus, and fixing our eyes on the heavenly prize.

The Cross Calls Us to Crucify Our Appetites (v. 17)

If you know God’s Word, you probably know that this isn’t the only place that Paul addressed this particular issue. He also addressed it in Romans 6 where he famously said, “Are we to continue in sin that grace may abound? 2 By no means!” God’s grace is not license to sin.

Which is exactly what these men taught! They taught because of God’s grace, they were now free to indulge the flesh, pursue their lusts, and embrace sin.

Which is why Paul calls the Philippians to imitate him in verse 17: “Brothers, join in imitating me, and keep your eyes on those who walk according to the example you have in us.”

If I stood up here and said, “You all should do yourself a favor and be more like me,” I have a feeling several of you would have some serious questions for me. It doesn’t carry the same weight as when Paul says it.

But of course, Paul isn’t calling the Philippians to imitate him to boost his ego. He’s pointing to where a life wholly devoted to Christ has landed him. It has brought suffering, imprisonment, and persecution—but more than that it produced steadfast joy, unwavering hope, and a life fully surrendered to the gospel. His example isn’t about indulging the flesh; it’s about faithfully putting the sins of the flesh to death because living for Christ is far better.

These enemies of the cross taught cheap grace. Many of you I’m sure are aware where that term comes from. Dietrich Bonhoeffer coined the term cheap grace in his book The Cost of Discipleship. In it Bonhoeffer wrote,

“Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, Communion without confession, absolution without personal confession. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate.”

These enemies of the cross were teaching cheap grace. They thought they were entitled to all the benefits of the gospel without any of its demands. They wanted a crown without a cross, pardon without purity, comfort without commitment. 

If you’ve read The Cost of Discipleship, then you probably know that Bonhoeffer contrasted cheap grace with what he called costly grace.

Bonhoeffer wrote, 

“Costly grace is the treasure hidden in the field; for the sake of it a man will go and sell all that he has. It is the pearl of great price to buy which the merchant will sell all his goods. It is the kingly rule of Christ, for whose sake a man will pluck out the eye which causes him to stumble; it is the call of Jesus Christ at which the disciple leaves his nets and follows him…”

“Such grace is costly because it calls us to follow, and it is grace because it calls us to follow Jesus Christ. It is costly because it costs a man his life, and it is grace because it gives a man the only true life. It is costly because it condemns sin, and grace because it justifies the sinner. Above all, it is costly because it cost God the life of his Son: "ye were bought at a price," and what has cost God much cannot be cheap for us. Above all, it is grace because God did not reckon his Son too dear a price to pay for our life, but delivered him up for us. Costly grace is the Incarnation of God.”

God’s grace isn’t cheap and vapid; it’s costly and transformative.

Because that’s the truth: grace transforms. Grace doesn’t leave a person where it found them—it raises the dead to life. It gives you a new heart, a new will, and new desires. And when the Lord takes out the old heart of stone and gives you a new heart, suddenly the old cravings of the flesh begin to lose their power. The things you once chased now look empty. The things that once thrilled you now feel shallow.

When you are truly saved, something profound happens: you begin to long for the things of the Lord. Not perfectly. Not without struggle. But genuinely, deeply, increasingly. You find yourself longing to please the Lord, to obey Him, to walk in His ways—not because you’re trying to earn His favor, but because His favor is already upon you. 

This is why Jesus told Nicodemus, “you must be born again.” Not improved. Not tweaked. Not adjusted. Born again. The old self cannot love God, cannot submit to His law, and cannot deny the flesh. Only a new heart can do that. Only the Spirit of God can produce new affections, new priorities, and a new pattern of life.

I fear that the message of the enemies of the cross is widespread in American evangelicalism today—the idea that you can be a Christian and expect absolutely nothing to change. That you can have Jesus and keep your old life. But if that’s the gospel we preach, then we’ve stripped it of all its power. Too often we ignore the expectation that Christ transforms His people because we’re afraid that calling believers to live for the Lord will sound like legalism. Yet Scripture never hesitates to call God’s people to holiness. The New Testament speaks plainly about putting sin to death, pursuing righteousness, walking by the Spirit, and bearing fruit in keeping with repentance.

That’s not legalism—that’s Christianity. If we never teach that grace leads to obedience, we unintentionally create a version of the gospel that doesn’t expect people to change. That’s the beauty of the gospel of message! That no matter what sin struggles you face, Christ can break you free from the bondage of it!

We pave the pathway to hell when we preach a cheap grace that expects no transformation as the fruit of salvation. God has no intention of leaving you or me the same tomorrow as we are today. 

This really hit home for me a few years ago when a local pastor told me that he baptized a transgender man. Apparently, this individual simply said that she wanted to follow Jesus and so he baptized her. Where’s the repentance? Where’s the transformation? Does God really want you and me to remain in our sin? 

And it’s almost as if there’s an unspoken assumption that there are some sins that Jesus Christ cannot free you from. How depressing is that? How is that good news? 

There’s no group of people, no type of sin struggle, where you and I look at it and say, “this is too big for God.” The cross of Christ is powerless here, so you’re free to continue as you are. If there is no transformative power in the gospel message then what are we doing? Why am I preaching? We’re all just wasting our time! 

As Christians, we must contend, believe, and expect the good news of Jesus Christ to transform lives. You strip the gospel of all its power when you preach that trusting in Christ will leave you in your sin. Where's the grace, where’s the power, where’s the hope if we teach and preach a gospel that allows you to continue wallowing in your sin? That’s not good news. 

We must preach a gospel that expects lives to be changed! “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.” When Christ saves you, he changes you. 

Has the good news of Jesus Christ changed you and how is it continuing to change you? That’s the question that you and I must wrestle with this morning. The gospel isn’t a therapeutic message that helps you limp through life—there’s real power in the message.

The Citizens of Heaven Live for a Greater Satisfaction (v. 20–4:1)

And there’s a glorious hope for tomorrow. As Christians, we should never be satisfied with the status quo. It’s what I talked about last week — we should experience a holy dissatisfaction. Notice what Paul says in verses 20-21. “But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, 21 who will transform our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by the power that enables him even to subject all things to himself.”

There’s something so temporary, vapid, so short-sighted about making your life all about living for the here and now, because there is a far greater satisfaction. There is something much better. 

What Paul is describing here is exactly the sort of thing that Jesus talked about. The gospel is a treasure hidden in a field that you have to give everything up for. But imagine for a second, finding real treasure in a field and then turning around and trading it for a box of chocolate coins wrapped in gold tinfoil. Y’all know what I’m talking about.

It would make absolutely no sense! And yet, that’s exactly what happens when people trade eternal glory for momentary pleasure, when they exchange the hope of heaven for the fading comforts of this world. Paul reminds us that our citizenship is not here—it’s in heaven. Everything around us is passing away, but the kingdom we belong to is unshakable.

When Christ returns, He will transform our lowly bodies to be like His glorious body. Think about that! Every ache, every weakness, every temptation of the flesh will be swallowed up in resurrection glory. That’s the hope that sustains the believer. That’s what keeps us from bowing down to the god of the belly. 

Why live for the temporary when eternal joy is offered freely in Christ? The cross may cost us now, but it secures for us an everlasting reward that cannot fade or spoil. We stand firm not because life here is easy, but because our Savior reigns and is coming again. The call of the gospel is to lift your eyes from the fleeting to the forever—from what perishes to the One who will make all things new.

4 Therefore, my brothers, whom I love and long for, my joy and crown, stand firm thus in the Lord, my beloved.

And we stand firm because the Lord who began a good work in us will bring it to completion. Our endurance is not fueled by our own strength, but by the Christ who holds us fast. As the world wavers and our hearts grow weary, His promises anchor us. He calls us to remain steadfast, not in fear, but in joyful confidence that the glory to come far surpasses every trial along the way.

We’re too easily entertained. We’re too easily distracted. How quickly can the things of this world crowd out the surpassing worth of Christ? How often are we willing to exchange the eternal, the glorious, the worthwhile, for something easy, temporary, and earthly? 

You know one of the things that I’ve become more convicted of is just how much of my time is wasted on my phone. I sit down, start scrolling, and then boom, two hours have slipped by. Two hours I could have spent with my wife, two hours I could have spent with my kids, two hours I could have spent checking in on someone who is hurting. Two hours I could have spent studying God’s word or spent in prayer. 

Paul says, “Stand firm thus in the Lord.” Standing firm doesn’t mean standing still—it means actively resisting the pull of a world that wants to make you forget who you are and where you belong. Our citizenship is in heaven, and every choice we make today is either preparing us for that kingdom or distracting us from it. The eternal glory that awaits us isn’t something nice that we think about every now again. It’s something that you start preparing for now. 

We stand firm by fixing our eyes on Jesus, by imitating those who walk faithfully, and by clinging to the promises of the gospel. The world will constantly dangle its cheap imitations of joy—comfort, success, pleasure—but none of them will satisfy the soul that was made for God. When you live with eternity in view, it changes everything: how you spend your time, how you use your money, how you raise your children, how you endure suffering.

The call of this passage is clear: don’t trade the eternal for the easy. Don’t be lulled to sleep by temporary pleasures or distracted by passing troubles. Lift your eyes to Christ. Remember where your citizenship lies. The King is coming, and when He does, every sacrifice made for His sake will prove worth it. So, stand firm in the Lord—stand firm in grace, stand firm in hope, stand firm in the gospel that saved you. The world and all its desires are passing away, but those who belong to Christ will share forever in His glory.

At the end of the day there are two options: either you’re living for yourself or you’re living for the Lord. There are no other options. There is no third way. And so, the warning of this passage is real — if your god is your belly, then you don’t know the one true God. But the invitation is sweeter — Christ was broken for those enslaved by their sinful passions and desires so that we might find our true satisfaction in Him.

At the cross, Jesus took upon Himself the judgment we deserve for all our self-indulgence, pride, and rebellion. The One who hungered in the wilderness and refused to bow to temptation now offers Himself as the Bread of Life. He alone satisfies the longings of the heart. Every false god—every pursuit of pleasure, ease, and comfort—will leave us empty, but Christ fills the soul with joy that never fades.

He died to free us from slavery to our appetites and to give us new desires shaped by His Spirit. The cross doesn’t merely change what we believe; it changes what we love. So come to Him—lay down your idols, your comforts, your cheap substitutes—and find in Jesus the fullness your soul was made for. The invitation of grace is costly, but it leads to life that never ends.