"I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. Therefore let us, as many as are mature, have this mind; and if in anything you think otherwise, God will reveal even this to you. Nevertheless, to the degree that we have already attained, let us walk by the same rule, let us be of the same mind." (Philippians 3:14-16)

For decades, the four-minute mile was the Mt. Everest of track and field.

It was considered a hard-and-fast human limitation, backed by science. But a young medical student named Roger Bannister believed the barrier was mental, not physical."

On May 6, 1954, on a wet, windy track in Oxford, he did the impossible. He broke the tape at 3 minutes, 59.4 seconds.

But here's the most incredible part of the story: 46 days after Bannister broke the "impossible" barrier, another runner, John Landy, did it too.

And in the years since, over 1,400 runners have conquered a feat that was once considered a physical impossibility.

What changed?

The barrier had to be broken in the mind before it could ever be broken in the real world.

For too long, the Church has been living under the shadow of a spiritual four-minute mile. Christians have accepted a set of "realistic" limitations on what a Christian life is supposed to look like.

We've been told that radical joy, world-changing impact, and a deep, personal adventure with God are for the spiritual superheroes, not for normal Christians. For super-saints, not for the rest of us messed-up believers.

The barrier is spiritual: only really moral, decent, put-together Christians can reach the pinnacle of faith.

The barrier is emotional: I'm too broken, too flawed, too damaged to ever make a difference for God.

The barrier is psychological: if you knew my past, if you knew my family of origin, you would know why God could never use a person like me.

Then comes this man named Paul, a leader of the first generation of Christians, telling the world he is pressing toward the mark for the prize of the upward call of God.

He had a past. He had to deal with guilt and shame. He wrestled with moral issues. And here he is, talking about a race, and the irony is that as he writes he is a prisoner of Rome and chained to a Roman guard.

So what? Paul's bold stance is a declaration that the barrier is a myth. It is a call to be a Roger Bannister—to have a faith so audacious that when you break through, you make it possible for everyone around you to break through, too.

We've been studying a book in the Bible called Philippians. We've been going verse by verse. The name of this series is: Quit Telling Yourself I Can't

My talk today is number 16 in the series. We're here in Philippians 3:14-16. And my talk today is called...

Today, I want to pull together a lot of the threads I've been teaching throughout this series. We've covered a lot of ground, and to pull together a lot of the themes I want to talk about High Expectation Goals.

So, let's get going.

When Paul talks about pressing toward the prize, he's not talking about "heaven." And that's a glorious destination, but that's not the prize he's talking about.

The prize is not just where you're going; it's who you become along the way.

Paul gives you the secret in verse 12. He says he presses on to "lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me." I want you to burn that phrase into your mind. This isn't about a goal you set for yourself. This is about you grabbing hold of the very thing Christ had in mind for you on the day He grabbed hold of you.

Inside of you, right now, live three different versions of you. There is your Present Self—that's you, in this moment. There is your Past Self—a person made of memories and experiences. And then, there is your Future Self.

On the day Jesus saved you, He didn't just see a sinner who needed forgiveness. He saw a warrior who needed to be armed. He saw a masterpiece covered in mud. He saw your Future Self—a you that is courageous, vibrant, generous, and full of unshakeable peace. He saw your maximum potential, a person so full of His light that you could change the world around you.

THAT is the prize.

The prize is the explosive, beautiful, breathtaking moment when you finally become the person Christ knew you could be all along. The prize is the maximum actualization of your God-given potential. It is your Future Self, fully realized.

It's you, filling out the shirt-sleeves of Christ. It's the love of Christ overflowing in you. It's you feeling and knowing and believing that you are richly blessed, highly favored, and deeply loved.

This is your first high-expectation goal: to stop settling for being a slightly better version of your old self and to start pressing into the masterpiece Christ destined you to be.

So how do you lay hold of this prize? You don't do it by playing defense. You go on offense. And your primary weapon is a God-sized goal.

I'm talking about a goal so big, so audacious, that it feels impossible. A goal that, if you were to say it out loud, would make the "realistic" people in your life nervous.

And I have to believe that a lot of people just heard a quiet whisper in their hearts: "Who are you to dream that big? That's arrogant. That's prideful. Humble people have small, quiet goals."

I know that voice, because I grew up with that voice in Church. Let me tell you what that voice is. It is the lie of a religious spirit that has confused a small life with a holy one. It is the deception the enemy uses to keep you in your cage, because he knows that a Christian who is truly alive to their potential is the most dangerous force on the planet.

It's the voice of legalism, which tells you that God only blesses the goals of perfect people. It's the fear that if you aim high and fail, you will have failed God. That is a lowly, suffocating thought about the God of grace who is not looking for your perfect performance, but for your audacious faith.

And if you're still not convinced, if you're still clinging to the false label of "I'm disqualified," then you need to look at the man writing these words. Paul is in prison. He's chained to a guard. His execution is a real possibility. Yet from that place of absolute limitation, he is still pressing, still aiming, still dreaming of regions beyond. If a prisoner on death row can set a world-changing goal, then your label of "too old," "too broken," or "too busy" has just been stripped of all its power.

It is never too late in the game for you to aim higher.

This is me inviting you to be unreasonable, be ridiculous, be irrational, and be wild for the sake of Christ and the gospel.

And the reason I can say that is because of the third truth about bold goals with God.