Growing Deep, Growing Wide

Colossians 1:1-8

In his book simply titled Prayer, pastor Tim Keller wrote this. “Imagine an eight-year-old boy playing with a toy truck and then it breaks. He is disconsolate and cries out to his parents to fix it. Yet as he’s crying, his father says to him, “A distant relative you’ve never met has just died and left you one hundred million dollars.” What will the child’s reaction be? He will just cry louder until his truck is fixed. He does not have enough cognitive capacity to realize his true condition and be consoled.

In the same way, Christians lack the spiritual capacity to realize all we have in Jesus … We are like the eight-year-old boy who rests his happiness in his “stars”  – his circumstances – rather than recognizing what we have in Christ.[i]

That’s why St. Paul wrote a letter to the church in Colossae. The letter that we call the New Testament “book” of Colossians. Paul had never met the Christians in Colossae. The good news of Jesus Christ had been carried there by Epaphras, who gave his life to Christ under the ministry of Paul during Paul’s two years in Ephesus. The Colossian church met in the home of a man named Philemon, to whom Paul also wrote. We know that he wrote this letter while he was in prison, either in Ephesus or in Rome.

By the time this letter was written, Colossae was declining rapidly. A once-thriving city, it had been surpassed in importance by two nearby cities, Laodicea and Hierapolis. In fact, in the mid 60’s A.D. an earthquake shook the region and severely damaged the cities in the area. Laodicea quickly rebuilt, but there’s no evidence that Colossae ever came back. It’s possible that she was abandoned at that point. At the time Paul wrote, Colossae still had a significant population and was of some importance, but her best days were behind her.

But Colossae had a vibrant little church. In a culture that wasn’t all that different than ours, among a people who saw truth as relative, who believed that all religions were pointing to the same “god” in some way, they were remaining true to the good news about Jesus they had received with open hearts, refusing to worship any but Christ alone. And Paul, filled with gratitude for the strength of their young faith, wants them, and us, to truly understand the riches we have in Christ so that we will root ourselves deeply in Christ and bear fruit. As we begin our journey through Colossians, turn with me to Colossians 1:1-8.

Paul and Timothy, who wrote this letter together, address their letter to “saints and faithful brothers and sisters in Christ.” IN CHRIST. It is a phrase that Paul uses over and over again to describe the position, the state of being of those who place their faith in Christ.

As believers in Christ, his life becomes our life, his death becomes our death, and his resurrection becomes our resurrection. Over and over again Paul describes us as being in Christ. And Christ being in us. Our position in Christ and Christ in us. Those are two sides of the same coin. You see, when we place our faith in Christ, from God’s perspective our identity becomes so wrapped up in Christ and his in us that when God looks at us he sees Christ.  Authentic believers, true followers of Christ, live and breathe IN CHRIST. The old is gone and the new has come.

To say that I am in Christ is to say that he is not simply an addition to my life. Sadly, that is what Christ is for many. One good thing among many good things about my life like a cross-shaped charm hanging from a charm bracelet. When Aubrey and Sterling were younger we’d get Becky started on a charm bracelet of some kind and the kids would buy her charms that she wanted as gifts. We did a Nomination bracelet, and a Life Links bracelet.

This one is her Pandora bracelet. And every charm on it has some significance to Becky. There are charms for each of the kids, and an angel for our two boys in heaven. There are a couple of farm animals because we have a small hobby farm. One has flowers on it because she loves to garden. One has hearts because, representing her love for her family and friends. And there’s a Bible with a cross on it, representing her faith. And that’s what Christ is for many of us, one nice charm among many.

You see, it’s a question of identity. Ask me who I am and I’m liable to give you one of many answers. I am husband to Becky. I am daddy to Aubrey, Sterling, Corin, Zeke, and Eli. I am uncle to Keegan, Logan, Nathan, Emily, Gracie, and Ezra. I am pastor. I am therapist. I am horseman. I am son, grandson, and brother. I am friend. All charms on the bracelet of my life.

I am also in Christ. Most of us view that as just another charm on the chain. But that isn’t what Christ is. Christ is the chain itself. He is life itself. He is that which ties all of the other things together, permeating them, running through all of them, bringing life to all of them, and changing the way I go about all of them. At the core of my being, beneath all the layers of who I am, I am in Christ.

And my growth in Christ is my deepening understanding of and living out of that unchanging truth … I am in Christ. His death was my death. His resurrection was my resurrection. His life is my life. In fact, in the Greek text, the words “in Christ at Colossae” actually appear as “in Colossae … in Christ.” Far more important, deeper, than their identity as Colossians is their identity in Christ.

So what does that look like? Paul often uses three words to kind of sum up our position in Christ, and he uses them here. Those words are FAITH, HOPE, and LOVE. Look at V. 3. Faith, love, and hope. No matter what order these three words appear in Scripture, faith always comes first, because without faith, there is no position in Christ. The words “in Christ” appear again here, but this time they refer not to our position in Christ, but to the object of our faith. Christ is the one in whom we place our faith.

It is trusting that God raised Jesus from the dead and offers to all that same life, the life of Christ, position in Christ. But this faith is far more than our ability to recite a creed or statement of faith; it is far more than a cross on a wall or hanging from a necklace. It is a faith that involves our whole being. It is a vibrant force that expresses itself in how we live.

When a man named John Paton was translating the Bible in Scotland’s western islands, where Gaelic is still a common language, he was looking for the right word to translate the word “believe” into. He finally found it. It was the Gaelic word that means “to lean your whole weight on.”

Have you every walked on one of those glass-bottomed bridges? They have one up at Boyne Mountain now. I’m not a huge fan of heights, so I’ve never gone on one of those bridges, and I never will. My mind knows that those bridges undergo rigorous safety testing. That the glass they use is thick and strong. My head knows that. But my heart doesn’t. I’ve seen glass break. I’m just not going to lean my full weight on that glass. The five year old walking in front of me is welcome to. I’m not gonna.

You see, it isn’t the strength of your faith that matters so much as the strength of what, or whom, you’re placing your faith in. Is the object of your faith strong? Secure? Worthy of that trust? Economies fail. Governments fall. Talents and abilities are lost to age, illness, and injury. Beauty fades. What, or who, are you counting on? Really counting on? The reason Paul wrote this letter to the church at Colossae was to remind them, and us, that Christ alone is the preeminent one, the only truly faithful one, and the only one worthy of our full trust.

That kind of faith is expressed through love, “the love that you have for all the saints.” He is not talking about the emotion we know as love, because the word he uses here is agape, the Greek word that signifies love as a tangible demonstration of love, an act of the will. He is talking about love in action. But he isn’t talking about love for those outside the body of Christ. That love is expected of followers of Christ, but that love isn’t in view here. Here he is specifically talking about demonstrable love for one another within the body of Christ.

Some today would say that a healthy church is a church that expresses love primarily for those outside the church, while an unhealthy church is a church that expresses love only for those within the church. Truth is, both are unhealthy. A healthy church is a church that expresses love in demonstrable ways both internally, among one another, and externally, seeking to love and serve in the community, drawing others to Christ.

For Paul in this letter, faith and love are built on hope. The trust we place in God’s promises yet to be fulfilled. Look at V. 5. Hope serves as the source of faith and love. C.S. Lewis defined hope as “a continual looking forward to the eternal world.” Hope is a firm grasp on the fullness of the truth of our position in Christ: that because his death is my death, his resurrection my resurrection, and his life is my life, my life on this earth is not the end.

But the hope of heaven is not the reward for faith, it is the source of faith and the source of love. It is in knowing that no matter what I face in this life, I am safe in the arms of Christ and will spend eternity with him. So I am set free to fully engage in this life, to love with abandon, to sacrifice for the good of others, to share the good news of Jesus Christ wherever I go. The hope of heaven shouldn’t cause us to withdraw from the world. It should push us into the world with boldness and extravagant love as we are set free to live unencumbered, fully-devoted followers of Christ.

Now, look at V. 6. Jesus produces fruit wherever he goes. Our job is not to try to produce fruit but to stay connected to him. In John 15, which is my favorite passage of Scripture, Jesus tells his disciples, “I am the true vine … Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing” (Vv. 1, 4-5).

“Whoever abides in me and I in him … bears much fruit.” When Jesus said, “Apart from me, you can do nothing,” it was in the context of bearing fruit in the kingdom of God. Our job, however, isn’t to bear fruit. It is to ABIDE IN HIM. To root ourselves deeply in Jesus. It isn’t to try harder. It is to REST IN HIM.

And what are the fruits we bear? The most common passage we turn to is Galatians 5:22-23, where Paul actually says, “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law.” In 1 Corinthians he talks about “putting on” compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, patience, and love (3:12-14). In Ephesians he says the “fruit of light” is “all goodness, righteousness, and truth” (5:9). And Peter adds faith, goodness, knowledge, self-control, perseverance, godliness, and love (2 Pe. 1:5-8).

There is no exhaustive list. But it’s clear that when we are rooted deeply in Christ, his character begins to come out in us because he is also abiding in us. That doesn’t mean we don’t sometimes have to make some kind of an effort. But the deeper you grow in Christ, the more likely it will be that his character will come out in even the most challenging, difficult situations.

And as his character comes out in us, others are drawn into Christ. When we grow deep, the impact is wide. More people are drawn to place their faith in Christ. So how do we grow deep in Christ? By intentionally drawing close to him. Letting him speak to us in our study of Scripture, and in the community of his people. We take advantage of opportunities to engage in spiritual disciplines, not so that we can earn God’s approval, but so that we can draw closer to him in Christ. So that we can be rooted more deeply in Christ.

“At a mission station in Nigeria,” says Donald Grey Barnhouse, “I met a pastor who was faithfully ministering to his flock. His skin was very black, his features were sharp-cut and there was nobility about his head. His eyes – those windows of the soul – impressed me especially by their gentleness. He accompanied the missionary and me on a visit to his brother, chief of the tribe.

When we arrived at the compound he explained the layout to me. The houses for the various wives of the chief were grouped about the threshing floor; the storehouses for grain were in another part of the compound. Finally we were taken to the large area where the chief lived. Like his brother, the pastor, he had a commanding physique.

I asked them to stand together while I took motion pictures. I have looked at those pictures many times since that day, and they speak to me of the darkness without Christ, and the light and joy of the heart that knows Christ. The difference between these brothers lies not in the gaily colored garments of the chief, and the white robe of the pastor, but in their faces, especially in their eyes. For the eyes of the chief show great cruelty; his features are hard and pitiless. One would never seek mercy from a man with such a formidable look of wanton savagery.

The face of the pagan chief was even more revealing as he stood next to his pastor brother, whose face showed calm nobility and gentle goodness. The faces of those two men revealed their inner natures. The life of Christ made the difference.” Let’s pray.

[i] Tim Keller, Prayer (Penguin Books, 2016), pages 86-87