Who Are You Actually Imitating? Philippians 3 on Examples and Citizenship

You've probably heard the saying that practice makes perfect. It isn't quite true. If you practice the wrong way, all you get better at is doing it wrong. Teach a child to write a crooked letter O, and enough repetition just cements in a crooked O. Practice typing with your fingers in the wrong place, and you'll never gain real speed. That's why coaches say "perfect practice makes perfect" instead — if your form is off, practicing harder doesn't fix it. Imitating the wrong thing doesn't lead you to the right thing. It just cements in the wrong habits.

The Christian life works the same way. Whether you realize it or not, you are imitating someone. The question Philippians 3:17-21 puts in front of us isn't whether you're imitating — it's who. Watch the wrong examples, and you'll slowly start walking like they do. Set your eyes on faithful, Christ-shaped examples, and you'll grow in that direction instead.

Imitate Me — Only Where Christ Is All

"Brothers, join in imitating me, and keep your eyes on those who walk according to the example you have in us."

Philippians 3:17

This sounds strange at first. Aren't we supposed to follow Christ, not Paul? But the Philippians had never seen Christ in the flesh — they had seen Paul. They watched how he lived, how he suffered, how he pressed on to know Christ. Paul says almost the same thing in 1 Corinthians 11:1: "Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ." He's not drawing attention to himself. He's pointing past himself, saying: watch how I follow Jesus, and do the same.

This is exactly how God has always designed learning to work. Children learn to be adults not chiefly from being told things, but from watching their parents and copying them. Hebrews 13:7 tells us to "consider the outcome of their way of life, and imitate their faith." We need more than words on a page. We need living pictures of obedience. And notice the qualifier hidden in this text: Paul isn't asking anyone to copy his preaching style or his personality or his specific calling as an apostle — only to the extent that he lives in self-denial, in imitation of Christ. It's as if he's saying, "Imitate me precisely where I am nothing and Christ is everything."

The church does not need empty voices. It needs living examples.

We've all heard the phrase "do as I say, not as I do." Said in jest, it's harmless. Said in earnest, it reveals a person whose life preaches a louder, and different, sermon than their words. So two questions belong to you here. First: who are you imitating in order to grow more like Christ? You cannot drift toward Christlikeness alone — the New Testament gives more than fifty "one another" commands that simply can't be obeyed in isolation. Second: can others follow you? Does your life pull people closer to Jesus, or quietly away? Proverbs 13:20 says whoever walks with the wise becomes wise, but the companion of fools will suffer harm. Your closest companions leave their mark on you, whether you notice or not — and so do the voices you let disciple you all week: television, the news, the algorithm feeding you video after video. Ask plainly: who are your leaders? Who do you actually sit beside and pray with?

Enemies of the Cross — Four Marks, Weighed with Tears

"Many, of whom I have often told you and now tell you even with tears, walk as enemies of the cross of Christ. Their end is destruction, their god is their belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things."

Philippians 3:18-19

Before the four marks themselves, notice three things about how Paul says this. First: "many." Not a rare fringe case — these examples are everywhere, in the first century and in ours. Second: he weeps as he writes it. Spurgeon observed that we never read of Paul weeping under persecution — scourged, imprisoned, he sang rather than groaned. But here, over people walking as enemies of the cross, this hardened apostle cries. That alone tells us how seriously to take this warning. Third: these were very likely professing Christians, active inside the church at Philippi — not obvious outsiders. Which means the honest question for us isn't whether such people existed then. It's whether some exist inside our own church now. Sadly, the answer is probably yes.

The four marks themselves: their end is destruction — not people stumbling in ignorance, but actively walking a path Jesus already described as wide, easy, and leading to ruin (Matthew 7:13-14). Their god is their belly — not merely about food, but a life ruled by appetite in general: comfort, pleasure, self-gratification, never satisfied, always chasing more. They glory in their shame — taking pride in exactly what should grieve them, boasting in sin rather than repenting of it, a pattern Romans 1 describes as the endpoint of humanity exchanging truth for lies. And their minds are set on earthly things — the same danger Jesus describes in the parable of the sower, where the cares of the world and the deceitfulness of riches choke out the word until the plant bears no fruit at all.

Paul's point isn't to make us experts at spotting these people in others. It's a mirror. Which of these four, if any, has quietly taken root in you?

Our Citizenship Is in Heaven

"But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, 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."

Philippians 3:20-21

What a contrast. While enemies of the cross fix their minds on earthly things, Paul lifts our eyes to a different reality altogether. The Philippians, living in a Roman colony far from Rome itself, understood exactly what it meant to hold citizenship in one place while living physically in another. Paul says our truest citizenship isn't earthly at all — not Philippian, not American, not tied to any nation on this earth. It's heavenly. And if that's true, our loyalties, our values, and our hopes have to align with that kingdom, not with appetite, shame, or distraction.

Notice, too, that Paul doesn't just point to where we belong — he points to who we're waiting for. Not an abstract idea of heaven, but a person: the Savior who died for us, the Lord who rules over us, the Christ who is coming back. And when He comes, Paul says He will transform our lowly bodies to be like His own glorious body. This is the resurrection hope: every ache, every weakness, every sign of decay in these mortal frames, undone and remade in glory. The guarantee behind that promise isn't wishful thinking — it's the same power that subjects all things to Christ. His power has no limit. His promises don't fail. His return isn't uncertain.

Which Way Are You Walking?

Paul sets two ways to live side by side. One belongs to those who walk as enemies of the cross — ruled by appetite, glorying in shame, minds fixed on what's passing away, heading toward destruction. The other belongs to those whose citizenship is in heaven — imitating faithful examples, looking beyond this world to the Savior who is coming again. Who are you imitating? What shapes your mind day to day? If your heart is chained to this world, you're on a road that leads exactly where Paul says it leads. But if your heart belongs to Christ, your future is secure, your lowly body will be transformed, and your Savior is coming. Lift your eyes. Do not live for what is passing away.

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