The irrefutable realities of the death and resurrection of Jesus are more than mere doctrinal points to quibble over; they are the soil from which our lives must grow, or as Paul says, the head from which we are nourished. “To live is Christ and to die is gain” is more than a hashtag for your Instagram account; it’s theology clothed with flesh.
Or maybe I should have led with, “You’re Alive, Start Living Like It!” Both statements are true. At least that’s what Paul argues in his short gospel-rich book to the Colossian believers.
As the fragmentation of our modern, Western culture breaks its banks and washes sediment into our churches, as the gaps widen and the edges grow sharper, as the rhetoric rages ever brighter and the disenfranchised retreat in bruised hurt — now, even as much as it was needed then, we need to hear Paul’s fatherly exhortation:
If with Christ you died to the elemental spirits of the world, why, as if you were still alive in the world, do you submit to regulations—“Do not handle, Do not taste, Do not touch” (referring to things that all perish as they are used)—according to human precepts and teachings? These have indeed an appearance of wisdom in promoting self-made religion and asceticism and severity to the body, but they are of no value in stopping the indulgence of the flesh. (Colossians 2:20–23, ESV)
More than the implications of national politics, or the far more subtle pull of tribal allegiance, everyday gospel living is at stake. If you’re a pastor, the allure of speaking into popular topics with your tribe’s language is ever-present. If you’re a church member, then just making it through the week without feeling like you’ve let Jesus down again haunts your dreams. Both of us need to embrace the loving rebuke.
“You’re dead, start acting like it!”
Paul’s concern, and what should be our concern as well, is that we’re not acting like dead people should—at least, we’re not acting like dead “Jesus-people” should. We’re still chasing the cheap candy that we thought would nourish our wasting flesh. We’re still enlisting in extra-curricular activities we thought would bolster our chances of winning the game. Paul says, “Quit dancing in the shadows while you disregard the substance.” Deep down we know it; this shadow-game is unfulfilling. The only way out of this shadow theatre is through death. The trouble is, though, we prize life so highly that we don’t want to embrace the grave. But that’s not the way of the gospel. There can be no victorious Sunday without the humiliation of Friday. There is no crown without the cross.
Subscribe to Free “Top 10 Stories” Email
Get the top 10 stories from The Aquila Report in your inbox every Tuesday morning.