Dear church,

Here’s something to read slowly:

We give thanks to God always for all of you, constantly mentioning you in our prayers, remembering before our God and Father your work of faith and labor of love and steadfastness of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ. For we know, brothers loved by God, that he has chosen you, because our gospel came to you not only in word, but also in power and in the Holy Spirit and with full conviction. You know what kind of men we proved to be among you for your sake. And you became imitators of us and of the Lord, for you received the word in much affliction, with the joy of the Holy Spirit, so that you became an example to all the believers in Macedonia and in Achaia. (1 Thessalonians 1:2-7)

Every family has a history, and Paul was drawing out the history of this little church when he called these believers in Thessalonica his “brothers and sisters.” Paul talked about their history.

A family history can be a dangerous thing. We have to be careful in dredging up stories about the past. There might be some unpleasant ones that get pulled out from under the rug from time to time. But Paul opened his letter with the history. It was the family history of this church in Thessalonica.

If you recall, Paul got chased out of town. There were some in the community who wanted no church there. And some rabble-rousers came in, and they mobbed the leader of the church, and they dragged some of the brothers through the streets. And there was a demand for money, and it was paid (Acts 17:1-10). It wasn’t a pleasant history. Things were tense.

For some, these were probably painful memories. For some, there likely was sadness involved. Maybe some of the members of the church were cowardly in those dangerous early days. Maybe some looked back with regret, wishing they’d handled things differently. You know all about those things you wish you’d said in that critical moment – a moment you can’t have back.

It was the family history. And Paul knew it wel. And this is how he described those days. “For we know, brothers loved by God, that he has chosen you, because our gospel came to you not only in word, but also in power and in the Holy Spirit and with full conviction.” Paul told the family history maybe a little differently than they remembered it. There was “full conviction” in those early days of the church in Thessalonica.

What was Paul doing? He was sharing. This is what families do. Families share. We share with one another our time. We share with one another our possessions. We share with one another our talents and gifts. And we share with one another our words. We share ourselves. This is what families do.

And Paul was sharing his thoughts about the early days of life in the church in Thessalonica. It was a church that knew suffering and persecution and, even, death. And Paul wasn’t one of the quiet ones in the church, who slipped in the back and said nothing to anyone, except maybe a “good morning” here and there. Paul share his thoughts. He had something to say. He said, “This is what ‘we know’ about you. And it is good. You are brothers loved by God.”

And so we, too, ought to share with one another. We talk sometimes about sharing things in the church, and it’s often material things we talk about. This isn’t bad. But there’s more to share. Some things need to be said.

Chris

Dear church,

Leading off the apostle Paul’s last instructions to the Colossian church is this instruction: “Continue steadfastly in prayer, being watchful in it with thanksgiving.”

We know the apostle Paul was writing to the church. This was a communal command. And the church’s corporate tradition – still young in those days – always was to pray.[1]

Of the early days after the ascension, Luke wrote, “All these with one accord were devoting themselves to prayer, together with the women and Mary the mother of Jesus, and his brothers” (Acts 1:14).

Later, the apostles told the church they had a sacred duty that could not be put aside: “But we will devote ourselves to prayer and to the ministry of the word” (Acts 6:4).

And Paul wrote to the Roman church about what it means to be a church: “Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer” (Romans 12:12).

The idea is straight-forward: The church is to be a corporate prayer warrior. It is to commit itself to the practice of prayer, and to persist in it no matter what.

But the church also was to be “watchful in it.” There’s a sense here of being wary of danger. And there’s a sense of being spiritually alert.

And when we pray as a community, we must practice this watchfulness. We gather together knowing Satan would rather we didn’t. And yet we enter into prayer with our spirits attune to our communal risks. Where have we entered into a funk as a church? Where has Satan or our weak-wills gotten the upper hand? Where have we yielded victory to the flesh?

This is being watchful and spiritually aware as a community. And as we pray, and as we share the results of our prayer with each other, we can begin to discern where we’ve been and where God would like to lead us.

And so as a church – as the family of God – we will pray with watchfulness.

And we will pray with thanksgiving. In everything, for the church, there is thanksgiving. It perhaps is the ultimate shield of protection for the saints of God – to remember the blessings of being his children.

Our thanksgiving – the same thanksgiving that opens the Lord’s Supper in prayer – pushes back against the forces of evil that would cause us to despair.

And so there is a lot bound up in this one command of Paul, closing out the Colossian correspondence: “Continue steadfastly in prayer, being watchful in it with thanksgiving.”

May we follow through.

Chris

[1] Michael F. Bird, Colossians/Philemon (Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2009), 120.

Dear church,

As I write this, I want you to know I just finished watching the presidential debate. I wished I hadn’t. Sometimes we make mistakes, and this was mine for the day.

The debate was contentious and ugly. And, for some reason, it put me in a bad mood. It put me on edge. I feel like I need to go for a long walk in the woods – a little detox.

Instead, I read Colossians 3. “If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.”

That is exactly what I needed.

Colossians 3 reminded me of who I am in Christ. Our lives are bound to this earth for this time, but this is not what we seek. Those of us who have been raised to new life in Christ – those of us who have put our faith in him and have been given the Holy Spirit – are not to be seeking the things of this earth.

We are to seek Christ and his ways. We are to be leaning toward eternity.

If our lives are hidden now in Christ, we have the ultimate security. The sinless one – God himself – has drawn us in and promised never to leave us, to usher us into his glory upon his return. The narratives of this world are too small for Christ, and, therefore, they are too small for us. More is going on than meets the eye. And there’s more to come!

I don’t think Christians are to live with their heads in the clouds, ignoring the things of this earth. God has never allowed his people to ignore injustice and need on earth. We are to help in real ways whenever we can. But neither are we to become so invested in the things of this world that we aren’t ready to leave it all behind at the drop of the hat – to be with Christ, and to trust him to set everything right in the end.

This made me think about my own reaction to the COVID-19 pandemic. Personally, I am unafraid of getting sick. I always have been. If the coronavirus takes me out, so be it. But I realize many people are deathly afraid (no pun intended) of becoming infected with this virus.

And so, as Christians, we walk gently around those folks. We want to be sensitive to their health concerns. We want to be gentle in spirit and to encourage them and to protect them. We want them to know we love them.

Of course, our minds also are “set” on the “things that are above, not on things that are on earth.” If we’re going to be gentle loving around those who are concerned about the virus, who are afraid of dying or who are afraid of their loved ones dying, we also ought to be gentle and loving enough with them to share the gospel with them – or to remind them of the gospel, if they are Christians.

The gospel is the only answer. The gospel – and the gospel alone – is the only thing that can take away those fears.

No Christian should be afraid of COVID-19. And if a Christian encounters someone who is afraid, the best course of action is to talk about Jesus, to talk about the One who takes away all fear, to talk about the reason why the coronavirus is not a concern for the people of God. We can help others, as Paul might say, become like we are – not slaves to anything, but free (Galatians 4:12).

We can share the good news through a mask. And then maybe we can take them off.

That’s a digression from the presidential debate, and I am thankful for it!

Chris

Dear church,

A tree’s roots often go quite deep or extend out over a large area of ground. The more mature the tree, the more extensive the root system.

Paul told the church in Colossae to be “rooted and built up” in Christ.

When we say we are “putting down roots,” that means we are planning to stay put, to become a part of a place. Like a tree that has matured, a person who has put down roots has been there a while, and that person has put in the time and effort to become embedded in his or her geographic location or in his community. You know people like that. You can’t picture those people anywhere but their “home.”

If we pictured our Christian walk in this way, we might think less about running out and doing things for Jesus and more time in prayer, more time thinking about him, more time considering our actions before we carry them out. If we picture ourselves as rooted, first and foremost, we would seek out Christ’s perspective.

That’s it. Plainly, we would seek Him out first.

That’s what it means to be rooted. It means to go deeper, to drink more deeply of what lies beneath, to become a part of that place – so intertwined it is impossible to go anywhere else and survive.

Chris

Dear church,

We don’t think much about our afflictions as Christians or as a church. At least we don’t in America. We don’t tend to suffer much for our faith. The body of Christ, here, isn’t under stress.

Our family received a mailing the other day from the Voice of the Martyrs. That organization supports Christians in countries where the gospel remains under threat. With the mailing came a map showing the countries where Christians often face hostility today and countries where the Christian faith is outright “restricted.” Countries like China, Iran, Somalia, and Egypt fall into the “restricted” category. It is hard to be a Christian in places like that. You might wind up in jail, or worse, for your faith.

And Paul wrote to the church in Colossae, “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church.”

Paul seemed to have the idea the body of Christ would go on suffering even after Jesus’ death on the cross. The body of Christ, of course, is the church.

This fits with Jesus’ own words about the persecution of his followers. Jesus said, “If the world hates you, know that it has hated me before it hated you. … If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you” (John 15:18-21).

And so Paul seemed to see all the trouble the world imposed upon him because of the gospel – read 2 Corinthians 11:24-29 – to be something that is in the natural course of the body of Christ. And the more he was persecuted, the better, it seemed to Paul. He rejoiced in it. Paul was doing it for the sake of the church.

Paul was carrying out the work of the body of Christ – work to which we all are called – to spread the gospel to the nations (Matthew 24:14). If persecution came as a result, it seemed to Paul, that was all the better – because that meant the work was being accomplished as it should be. And perhaps, Paul thought, the more he was being persecuted, the less the church would face such affliction. He was accepting the tribulations for the body’s sake.

It’s an interesting perspective. And, again, we don’t really face persecution for our faith in America. That time probably is coming. Will we accept it like Paul?

For now, we ought to pray for those who are persecuted for the gospel. And we might wonder whether we are sharing the gospel as we should – if we sense no pressure of persecution as a church.

Chris

Dear church,

The apostle Paul ended his letter to the Philippian church by saying, “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit.”

Have you ever thought about what that means? What does it mean that the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ is with our spirits? Certainly, God’s grace has been given to every Christian. To be given “grace” means to be given some concept of mercy, forgiveness, love, etc. Grace is a good thing. No one wants grace withheld from him or her.

And when Jesus Christ stretched out his arms on the cross, he extended grace to every man or woman on earth. It didn’t matter whether that person was black or white, European or Asian, short or tall, skinny or fat – or whether that person was a heinous sinner or a saintly do-gooder.

Grace was given to all. But we must receive it. It is possible for us to reject this grace. The disciple John wrote, “But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God” (John 1:12). That is, to believe in Jesus Christ is now to have the right to take our place in God’s family as his children. We have a spot at the table. And this happens not because of anything done by any human on this earth – not because we were born into it or because we earned it by our good works, by our merit – but only because of God. It is only because of God and his grace that we can become his children. John also wrote, “For from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace” (John 1:16).

And Paul wrote to the church in Philippi, “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit.” And so, again, we see grace being something that we receive from God.

And this grace is something that is “with” us. Grace is something that actively works among us as we live our lives and, specifically, Paul would say, as we live our lives in the church. Grace is operative in the things that we do as Christians. Grace is to pervade every bit of our activity as members of the body of Christ, as members of the family of God.

Paul demonstrates this again and again in Philippians 4.

He urged Euodia and Syntyche to “agree in the Lord.” We wish we knew what they were arguing about and what kind of women these were. They weren’t tame women, certainly. No, they “labored (or contended) side by side” with Paul in the gospel. Perhaps they were missionaries who traveled with Paul. Or maybe the church met in their homes. Or maybe Euodia and Syntyche had helped bail Paul out of some trouble. The Philippian city leaders weren’t exactly easy to deal with.

We don’t know what the issue was, but these women had a falling out, and they were struggling against one another. I’m sure this must have been a very public disagreement because here we have Paul, in a letter that would have been read aloud to the entire church, urging them – with grace – to agree with one another, to reconcile. These were women “whose names are in the book of life.”

And Paul urged some unnamed “true companion” to help them to reconcile. Paul wanted to set up a way to help these ladies. This is grace in action, and Paul desired grace to cover over this wound, with the help of the church and for the sake of the church.

And Paul thanked the church for its gift to him. And then he described the grace of God working in him. “For I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content.” High or low, in plenty or in want, he could be content. This is grace in action, too. “I can do all things through him who strengthens me.” Grace enables us to be content in weakness.

At the same time, Paul recognized the gift given to him by the church. This, too, is grace. The Philippian church gave early and often to the work of the gospel, to Paul. “I have received full payment, and more.” This was a gift that spread the grace, that was looking for the fruit of new lives being given over to the gospel. It is grace in action.

Paul’s love for the church and the mutual grace shared back and forth is evident in here. And Paul closed the letter by writing, “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit.” May that grace continue to fill and overflow the church.

It takes grace to reconcile with another person. It takes the extension of something that I have – of forgiveness, forbearance, mercy, contrition, repentance, change. This is how reconciliation takes place. This is an act of grace. To give that out – from me to you.

It takes grace to enable us to remain content in a time of struggle, when there’s not enough food, enough money, enough health. It takes grace to know that Christ is the one who gives strength, and he will give it as I need it. Christ enables the contentment.

It takes grace to give to the work of the gospel, to give up our own material possessions to help those who are taking the gospel ever outward. This is grace, too, when we don’t know what the future holds but we still know there are others who need to hear about Jesus. And we give.

Are we living with grace? Does the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ move with our spirits? We’ve been given grace not just to receive it but also to live it out. We are now the children of God, and we live like him.

Chris

Dear church,

Our desire as Christians is to keep growing in Christ. As believers, we’ve received the Holy Spirit, and we begin to change. Like with anything that grows, the change is not always visible. Sometimes, it seems slow. At other times, there are growth spurts. But those inevitably are followed by more slow growth.

You know how it goes. To snap our fingers and to say we are fully mature in Christ is just not the way things work.

And so Paul – the rejoicing Paul – urged the church in Philippi to “join in imitating me, and keep your eyes on those who walk according to the example you have in us.”

We really ought to look around in our lives and to find those Christians who are imitating Paul and imitating Christ – those who are, as we sometimes say, “walking the walk” of the faith.

This is why the church is important, because in the church are people who are growing and people whom we can follow as they walk. We can find Christians who are further down the road of maturity, and we can watch what they do.

I remember multiple men and women in my Christian walk in whose footsteps I followed. I wanted to be like them. I wanted to have the peace they had. I wanted to have the confidence they had. I wanted to have the wisdom and generosity they had.

I’m still walking. Sometimes I feel like I’m just inching along. But we really ought to look into the church and find someone to “keep our eyes on.”

Chris

Dear church,

The apostle Paul gave a lot of instructions in this passage about how to live in the church. This is how church members are to behave as they worship and pray and share the gospel together. We’re not likely to find these things listed out in a church’s bylaws, but perhaps we should.

Below is a partial list of things to do. See if you can keep up!

Have the same mind. Have the same love. Be in full accord (live in harmony). Be of one mind. Don’t live out of selfish ambition. Don’t be conceited. Be humble. Count others as more important than yourself. Don’t look only to your own interests. Look to the interests of others. Have the mind of Christ, who is humble and self-emptying. Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling (humbly?). Don’t grumble. Don’t dispute. Hold fast to the word of life. Be glad. Rejoice.

That’s not a bad list. Pay attention to that list and some of the central themes in those commands. Which of these do you need more of in your life?

Chris

Dear church,

I cannot read the New Testament without the view of the unity and closeness of the church family in mind. This is where my mind always goes these days as I read these texts.

And here it is again. Listen to Paul’s love for the church: “For God is my witness, how I yearn for you all with the affection of Christ Jesus. And it is my prayer that your love may abound more and more …”

Can you sense Paul’s affection for the church in Philippi?

You can read about how the church was planted there in Acts 16. A small church got started at the riverside. The townsfolk persecuted Paul. Paul and Silas landed in prison and then were freed by a miraculous earthquake. Only they didn’t go free. Instead, they baptized the jailer. And then the city officials apologized to Paul and escorted him out of town.

Paul didn’t need to recount that history to the church in Philippi. They knew it all too well. Instead, Paul wrote to them from his Roman imprisonment, and he said, “I hold you in my heart.”

He loved those Christians in Philippi! I wonder if he ever got lonely, chained to a soldier in Rome, unable to move about and preach the gospel as he would like. I wonder if anxiety, even if briefly, ever rattled Paul’s mind. I wonder if he was slowly coming to terms with the fact his ministry on earth was nearly over.

And he longed for the church in Philippi, for those heady days of preaching the gospel and seeing lives turned upside down for the sake of Christ. And he wrote to the church there, “I hold you in my heart.”

Perhaps the take-away for us might be to consider our own feelings toward our church family. How much do we love these people? Does the thought of them spur anything close to the same kind of emotions that Paul clearly felt toward the church in Philippi?

Certainly, the circumstances are different for us. We aren’t separated from each other like Paul was from the Philippians. And we aren’t in jail facing a possible death sentence. Our emotions likely aren’t running on such high octane as Paul’s must have been.

But still … “I thank my God in all my remembrance of you, always in every prayer of mine for you all making my prayer with joy …”

It is worth considering.

Chris

Dear church,

If there is a time for armor, it might be today. We live in a season of what some have called “birth pangs.” That is, it seems as if something new is coming, and the world is straining in anticipation of it.

There is no question it is a difficult time, both globally and nationally. One crisis after another has emerged.

The global pandemic has put fear into the hearts of many people, and it’s put anger and distrust into the hearts of others. The pandemic has been followed by economic turmoil. Businesses have closed, workers have been laid off or furloughed, and we have entered into a season of financial uncertainty. What will the stock market do next year? What about the job market or the availability of needed goods – beyond just toilet paper?

Meanwhile, our country is facing social unrest. The issue of racial injustice is back on the front pages and in the streets. Again, this has put fear into the hearts of many people and anger and distrust into the hearts of others. And all the while, the country is observing perhaps the most contentious election season in our lifetimes. The very foundations of our nation, at times, seem as if they are wobbling.

And so if there is a time for armor, it is today – in this era of fear and divisiveness and uncertainty. The Christian has that armor available – the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, the shoes of readiness, the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit.

We have a gospel of peace. We need not fear the flaming darts of the evil one. We have the word of God. And we can pray.

This armor is at our disposal. It is what makes Christians so different in this time of strife. We may walk confidently. We are not deceived by the world. Rather, we speak the truth. And we are ready for whatever may come – not fearful, because the Lord’s will for our lives is ultimate peace.

And so we can have that peace today. Put on the whole armor of God.

Chris