Colossians 2:16–23

Original Meaning

Let No One Condemn You (2:16–17)

SINCE THE WARNINGS begin with “therefore,” what follows spells out the relevance of the fullness of the Deity living in Christ (2:9), the Christian’s union in his death, burial, and resurrection (2:10–13), and God’s victory over the rulers and authorities (2:14–15). No self-appointed arbiters of divine reality have any right to pass judgment on believers or to decide who qualifies for a share in the inheritance of the saints (1:12). Only Christ can be their judge (see Rom. 14:4; 1 Cor. 4:1–5; 2 Cor. 5:10), and he is their deliverer.

Paul addresses the problems of dietary matters, the observance of days, and the temptation to pass judgment on others in Romans 14–15 (compare 1 Cor. 8–10). There he expresses his conviction that Christians are free to do what their conscience dictates—to eat or not to eat, to observe sacred days or not to observe them. He cautions the overly scrupulous from trying to force their regimen on others and encourages the strong to be especially sensitive to the scruples of the weak: “All food is clean, but it is wrong for a man to eat anything that causes someone else to stumble” (Rom. 14:20). All are to be mindful that the kingdom of God does not consist in “eating and drinking, but of righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit” (14:17).

In contrast, Colossians condemns outright those who use eating and drinking and the observance of feast days to pass judgment on others. Paul connects such rules to the mind of the flesh (2:18; NIV, “unspiritual mind,” i.e., the sensuous mind or a human way of thinking), the elemental spirits of the world (2:20), and human commands and teachings (2:22). The differences between the argument in Romans and what we find in Colossians suggest that the latter does not have to do with an internal dispute among Christians. Paul rebuts outsiders who are using these issues to disparage Christians. These opponents have apparently arrogated to themselves the role of determining who belong to God’s chosen people and who do not. They use the keeping of food laws and sacred days as part of their criteria for deciding this issue.

Paul does not reject these practices outright as idolatry but insists they are only a shadow of what is to come. The shadow/substance schema was a popular theme in middle Platonism, and the term shadow did not have the contemptuous connotation it might have for us today.1 In this Greek system, it referred to an objective and concrete intimation of what is truly real, the archetype.2 Paul modifies this schema to give it an eschatological and Christological slant by adding the phrases “the things that were to come” and “found in Christ.”

The shadow/reality contrast as used by Paul applies to promise and fulfillment. Since Paul would never describe pagan rituals as a shadow or outline of what was to come in Christ, the promise/fulfillment motif is more fitting as an evaluation of Judaism. Religious festivals and New Moons relate to sacrifices in the temple. Caird observes, “Once we see the fulness of the sacrifice in the cross, we understand what the sacrificial worship of the Old Testament was groping after.”3 The phrase “the things that were to come” also connects these practices to Jewish eschatological hopes for the new age (see Isa. 9:6; Matt. 12:32; Eph. 1:21).4 The implication is clear: Christ fulfills all Jewish sacrifices and hopes.5 The future yearned for by the prophets has broken into the present.6

The emphasis that the reality is found in Christ picks up ideas from 1:15–20 that Christ is the image of the invisible God and the head of the body.7 Those who are in Christ’s body also share in the reality of reconciliation and will be presented to God as holy and blameless (1:20, 22). Paul’s conclusion therefore is: Why play in the shadow world when you have experienced the real thing?

Bridging Contexts

THE DIFFICULTY IN pinpointing precisely what “philosophy” Paul has trained his guns on in this section makes it more difficult to bridge into our context. Although we must make some decision—at least when one writes a commentary on the passage—the scanty evidence increases the margin for error. When we try to bridge the contexts, the question arises: Are we even trying to cross the right bridge?

Many scholars contend that the original problem was some syncretistic mélange of pagan, Jewish, and Christian beliefs and practices. If this view is correct, it would bridge nicely into our culture, which is now seeing a resurgence of syncretistic beliefs. Some modern cults try to pass themselves off as Christian because they have adopted selected Christian beliefs, but in reality they are a mishmash of various ideas jumbled together. The danger of Christianity becoming an amalgam of various beliefs and practices is always real as the intellectual and spiritual fashions of the day exert their influence.

Stewart speaks of a less reflective, more popular syncretism that continues to plague us. He calls it “a vague theism, plus a liberal humanist picture of Jesus, plus a dash of Judaic legalism, the whole being compounded with a certain culture consciousness, a considerable infusion of humanitarian benevolence, and perhaps even a secularising of the Kingdom of God.” He cites John Baillie, who dubbed this patchwork of beliefs “a sort of Esperanto religion.”49 When such confusion infiltrates the beliefs and practices of churches, it eviscerates missionary zeal and makes Christians look like they are wearing ill-fitting, hand-me-down clothes.

I argued in the introduction that the “philosophy” Paul counters was a local Judaism that challenged the Colossians’ hope. If the original rivals were Jews, our historical context has changed so much that it would be inappropriate to connect the text in any way to modern Judaism. Christian persecution of the Jews over many centuries should make us extremely sensitive about painting Judaism as the villain. One should note that Paul does not demonize the opponents, though he does take them to task for denigrating the Christian hope.

Paul’s primary tactic is to build up the assurance of the Colossian Christians by reemphasizing the truth they have already accepted and experienced in their baptism rather than tearing down the faith of the opposition. He maintains that the opponents live in a shadow world and do not yet realize that the fulfillment of all their hopes has already come in Christ. But he does not see his sole task as belittling their practices and beliefs. Instead, he wants first to build up the confidence of the Colossians in their faith so that they can resist their onslaughts. When the Colossians recognize that they have received everything they need in Christ, they will also recognize more clearly that the rivals have nothing to offer them except a reversion to the slavery of their erstwhile masters.

The same tactic should be employed by Christians in our world, where various ideologies compete for allegiance. More and more Christians are succumbing to the seductions of contemporary “philosophies,” sometimes without knowing it. They captivate people with the promise of euphoric experiences and easier ways to explain and control life’s uncertainties. When Christians can clearly identify what it is that they have received in Christ, they will be able to identify more clearly the fraudulent “philosophies” and their delusions and reject them.

The “philosophy” that Paul countered diminished the primacy, centrality, and sufficiency of Christ. It was not the first or the last to do so. Until the end of time, rival ideologies will continue to challenge Christians and their beliefs and vie for supremacy. In applying this text to our culture, it may be safest to describe the “philosophy” in broad strokes. We can then mark the parallels with any contemporary ideologies that set themselves up as competitors to Christ.

This “philosophy” that challenges (or perhaps contaminates) the Christian faith takes on the following ten characteristics:

• It judges, excludes, or disqualifies other persons according to arbitrary, human criteria.

• It engenders religious tyranny over people, based on these arbitrary, human criteria. It tries to make people pay homage to supernatural powers, earthly authorities, or rules rather than to Christ, who has set us free from all these things.

• It panders to human pride and egocentrism and results in puffing up and arrogance—attitudes characteristic of an unspiritual mind. It does this by promoting such things as mystical euphoria, ritualism, and/or ascetic rigorism.

• It makes mystical experiences, rituals, and ascetic rigor ends in themselves by placing so much emphasis upon them.

• It attaches too much importance on what is ephemeral or perishable—things that pass away.

• It cuts persons off from Christ by substituting something else for a deep personal relationship with Christ. It may take on a pious guise by insisting on obedience to a particularly rigid code of behavior, strict belief in certain doctrines, or an uncompromising devotion to a religious institution. The result, however, is that the commitment to such things “based on human commands and teachings” supersedes commitment to Christ.

• It cuts persons off from the body of believers in Christ.

• It pretends to offer greater wisdom than the wisdom found in the cross of Christ. Its wisdom focuses on fulfilling the self rather than giving one’s life to God and for others.

• It places limits on or rejects the efficacy of Christ’s work in every area of life, suggesting that it is inadequate or that it needs to be augmented by other experiences, additional spiritual agents, or a regimen of ritual or ascetic observances.

• It is basically a do-it-yourself religion and refuses to believe that all we can hope to attain has already been accomplished for us by Christ.

These characteristics continue to reproduce themselves in secular and religious ideologies, and we can therefore find many parallels in our modern context. Paul professes that baptism into Christ’s death means death to all this “stuff”—however and whenever it manifests itself. The key defense for Christians against such error is to hold fast to Christ, “the Head,” and to recognize that we have died with Christ to the elemental spirits reigning over this world with their various rules and ordinances. When we recognize that we are secure in Christ, we will not be bumped off course by the judgments of others who want to disqualify us in some way.

Contemporary Significance

WE MAY NOT be absolutely certain about what “philosophy” Paul was attacking in the letter to the Colossians, but the text does provide warnings against any “religious” or secular phenomena with similar features that may resurface in our setting. Of the ten characteristics of the “philosophy” identified in the previous section, we will discuss five as having particular contemporary significance. We should be on our guard against any religious practice or worldview that promotes any or all of the following things:

• anything that judges and disqualifies others according to arbitrary human measures

• anything that substitutes sham battles with asceticism for the real struggle with sin (3:5–11), which Christ has already won for us

• anything that makes subjective feelings or mystic states the norm over the historical event of Christ’s crucifixion and resurrection

• anything that places more importance on divine intermediaries, such as angels, than on the divine reality in Christ

• anything that cuts people off from Christ, the Head, or Christ’s people, the body

(1) The danger of a religion that judges and disqualifies others. Beare sums up Paul’s statement in 2:18: “Let no one impose upon you his arbitrary standards of Christian conduct; do not feel yourself inferior because your own life is not governed in the way that he declares to be necessary.”50 The Colossian errorists’ attempts to squelch fleshly desires and establish their purity let loose a more deadly strain of sin, namely, pride.51 Many Christian groups want to draw the circle of acceptability ever tighter around themselves and reject others because of some failure to conform to their narrow vision of the truth. They only tolerate or accept their religious clones. They claim the high ground of exceptional piety or exemplary orthodoxy from which to lob a barrage of criticism against others who also claim the name Christian.

Wall comments on one example of this phenomenon:

In order to draw more sharply the social borders that distinguish the orthodox from all others, evangelical believers tend to draft creeds of right belief and codes of right conduct that oblige them to abstain from certain foods (such as alcohol) and practices (such as dancing or extravagant dress) that mainstream believers consider spiritually harmless. Ascetic and austere expressions of one’s devotion to Christ are thought by evangelicals to be useful in bearing witness to Christianity as an alternative to values and convictions of the surrounding secular order. And to a certain extent this is a correct perception.52

The problem is that we can worship the rules or our theological constructions more than we worship Christ. This process inevitably results in an ugly, smug arrogance and exacerbates the divisions between us rather than working to bring about reconciliation. Wall rightly contends that Christians have only one social marker, their “faith that Jesus Christ is Lord.”53 I would add another social marker: our behavior in accordance with that faith. Those who have been qualified by their baptism into Christ’s sacrificial death cannot be disqualified by unfit, self-appointed umpires blinded by their own prejudices.

(2) The danger of a do-it-yourself religion. Paul does not sneer at a genuine interest in trying to maintain moral standards. Instead, he challenges the errorists’ method of achieving moral behavior. Their system does not work. Obedience to rigorous rules may earn one a reputation for holiness, but it is ultimately ineffective in dealing with human sinfulness. Our “moral needs are too grave to be satisfied by any system of rules which endeavours merely to regulate the old life and control its unruly impulses.”54

(a) Someone has said, “Having rules in the head is no substitute for obedience from the heart.” Rules do not create morality, but they are attractive to humans, who may fool themselves into thinking that they do. Baggott comments, “The ‘régime of ordinances’—‘handle not, taste not, touch not’—will always possess a power of attractiveness to men, especially to reformers in a hurry.”55 Apparently the “philosophy” in Paul’s day had its allure because it provided a clear set of rules and guidelines that made the holy life seem so much simpler and measurable. It offered specific things to do and to refrain from doing. A poem captures the basic attitude:

All jowls and rules,

that woman. As if

the motives of God

were true-false, multiple

choice or kindergarten simple.56

With a list of rules, devotees may feel a greater sense of security. The rules work like religious training wheels in that they may keep us from tipping over. But they are also confining, for they will keep us from breaking free. Rules also help us gauge whether we are making any headway in our religious quest or not. This is the rub. They lead us to regard our obligations to God as a checklist, which, when we have completed the duties, mislead us into thinking we have done all that God requires. Paul recounted his former religious vanity to the Philippians based on this record-keeping mentality. He claimed that he was blameless according to the righteousness that derives from obedience to the law (Phil. 3:6).

We can compose a list of observances—things that we believe God requires or will admire—and comply with them to the letter. But such obedience does not make us more devoted to God. Rigorous self-discipline is hardly up to the task of taming the human will, which chronically resists God’s will. The law cannot produce inward motivation. That can only be generated by the Spirit. Self-mortification cannot drive out the demons that our sin invites in.57 Caird points out that

Christianity offers a more radical and effective solution to man’s ethical and spiritual problems than an ascetical legalism. It allows the old human nature, with its unruly passions and bad conscience, to die, nailed to the cross of Christ, so that it may be raised with him to a new life.58

In Colossians, being in Christ and holding fast to the head is the only thing that will bring moral growth and inspire moral behavior.

(b) Abstinence may have its appeal because many confuse cause and effect in the holiness they see in others. The asceticism of John the Baptist, for example, did not make him a holy man except in reputation. His holiness came from his complete devotion to God in heralding the coming of the kingdom. That devotion may have led to his abstemious lifestyle, but his austere diet was not the cause of his holiness. Some, however, may mistakenly believe that separating themselves from the material world and stifling its appetites will draw them closer to God or prepare them to receive divine insight. They wrongly infer that a via negativa is the only way to God. It may instead drive one further away from God and produce only delusions. One can only come close to God through Christ, not through a regimen of spiritual exercises.

(c) A do-it-yourself religion puts “self” at the center and consequently is doomed to failure. If we set as our goals self-discipline, self-awareness, self-fulfillment, self-esteem, self-actualization, or self-help, we usually wind up with a worship of the self.59 Such aims focus on the “here and now” and turn human purposes and desires into idols. If the aim is to defeat the flesh, it only gives it new power. Self-denial may give the impression that it checks the desires of the flesh, but it may be simply another way of indulging the flesh. Frye observes:

Man’s attempt to sacrifice for himself does not bring him the ultimate freedom he seeks, however, because it represents an increasing reliance upon the self and it is precisely from self-reliance that man must be freed…. Indeed, the attempt to work one’s way into favor—whether it be God’s favor or one’s own—represents a form of the problem itself, rather than its solution.60

The letter to Colossians declares that Christ has already accomplished for us all that we might attempt to earn by our own puny efforts. The opponents rely on human attainment; Christians rely on Christ’s atonement. Francis comments:

Asceticism is worldly in the sense that its very rigor presupposes the reality of the world. If one has died with Christ from the world then such disciplined efforts are beside the point. Christ has already accomplished for the saints what the ascetics are seeking to effect.61

(3) The danger of a religion of the eyes. Many in Paul’s world had an unquenchable yearning for the transcendent and were captivated by those who could manufacture vivid visions of it. Meyer notes that in the ancient mystery religions the experience of seeing was primary. The worship was literally geared for eye-opening experiences. One of the priests was called a hierophant, the one who shows sacred things; and the initiate into the mystery was called a beholder. The adherents would stage initiation ceremonies at night so that “the contrast between light and darkness, made the primal experience of enlightenment that much more vivid to the eyes and emotions.”62

However one identifies the nature of the “philosophy,” Paul opposed it as something fixed on visions that were illusory and resulted in hollow vanity. The cherished visions they claimed opened the divine world to humans amounts to little more than Alice’s fantasy trip through the looking glass.

“I see nobody on the road,” said Alice. “I only wish I had such eyes,” the king remarked in a fretful tone. “To be able to see Nobody! And at that distance too! Why, it’s as much as I can do to see real people, by this light.”63

The direction of this religiosity is inward and upward and only results in narcissistic selfishness. Having such experiences can become an obsession that can undermine our commitment to Christ. Paul did not “take his stand on mystic visions, but on the message of the divine voice to his life, directing and guiding him in paths of moral obedience and loving service.”64 Paul recognizes that the direction of Christianity is downward in the Incarnation and outward in sacrificial labor for others.

Today, Christians face a more insidious “philosophy” that infiltrates our homes and subconscious—the media culture with its emphasis on surround sound and visual marvels. This may not seem to be an obvious threat because it does not usually label itself as a rival religion nor does it overtly malign the salvation offered by Christ. Michael Medved, a noted film critic, warned of the moral corrosiveness of movies and TV in a speech at Gordon College in 1996. He contended that television and all mass media “contradict the fundamental messages of the Judeo-Christian tradition” in the following ways:

• They emphasize the new and the latest instead of what is true and eternal. Only new truth is true. Old truth can only be old-fashioned and obsolete.

• They harp relentlessly on material gratification, which makes it hard for those hooked on it to realize that they cannot always get what they want. “There is only this minute and this hour; appetites to satisfy and desires to be filled.” The message is “Go for the gusto”; “You deserve it”; “Have it your way”; “Get yours while there is still some left.” Sacrifice becomes something laughable.

• The visual and superficial beautify what is not beautiful. Having attractive people do horrible things or immoral things in sumptuous surroundings tends to make those activities look attractive.

• “The whole emphasis of the media is on the eyes—on the eyes connecting with the heart, connecting with the emotions.” It appeals to the senses but does not sustain the soul. He concludes, “Religion does not ask us to follow our hearts or be guided by our eyes. It enjoins us to look below the surface; to believe what is true, not merely what is seen.”

A religion of the eyes leaves one dazzled; but when the reverie is over, nothing is left. Paul recognizes this truth, which may explain why he never dwelt on his own visions or shared them with others until he was forced to by the Corinthian situation. Even then, he related being caught up to the third heaven in such an ambivalent way that he made clear that such glorious experiences paled beside learning that God’s grace is sufficient to overcome every thorn in the flesh (2 Cor. 12:1–10). The danger for us is that we will want to keep up with our entertainment culture and its focus on the eyes by turning our worship into a religious stage show. We must walk a fine line between offering worship that is appealing and engaging without becoming simply a splashy performance, and worship that has depth without becoming tedious and flat.

We have glorious riches to offer in Christ, but these riches “are hidden” (Col. 2:3). Since we live in a society accustomed to eye-catching presentations and instant gratification, many are susceptible to the enticements of those who dangle riches that they can have right now for the taking. Packaging can fool us. For example, when we buy a couch, the construction, materials, and workmanship hidden beneath what we can see with our eyes may not enter into the decision. We may buy it simply because it looks good and feels comfortable. Some people choose their faith in the same way. They seek out what looks good and feels comfortable. The cross will have no attraction for them. But the cross is the only thing that can save them.

(4) The danger of a religion that fills the gap between ourselves and God with divine intermediaries. I have argued that Paul counters a local Judaism that has contested the Colossian Christians’ status as heirs to the promises of Israel and that the reference to “the worship of angels” is a scornful dismissal of their beliefs and practices. But the warning about venerating angels has a contemporary application because of the renewed interest in angels today.

The early church had problems with some who placed angels on too exalted a spiritual pedestal, leading believers to venerate them too highly.65 Evidence from church decrees in the early centuries reveals that Christians were involved in unseemly magical practices and veneration of angels. Theodoret, writing in the first half of the fifth century, commented on Colossians 2:18: “[This disease] long remained in Phrygia and Pisidia. Chapels were dedicated to the archangel Michael.” He explains that this problem prompted the fourth-century synod convened in Laodicea of Phrygia to write their thirty-fifth canon, which “forbad by a decree the offering of prayer to angels; and even to the present time oratories of the holy Michael may be seen among them and their neighbours.”66 The warnings given to John not to worship the angel guiding him on his tour of heaven (Rev. 19:10; 22:8–9) remained relevant.

The curiosity and obsession with angels that were so widespread in the ancient world in paganism, Judaism, and Christianity have intensified in our contemporary setting. McColley contends that “in popular media angels incline to be sentimental, comical, or even raffish, and angelology has largely been replaced by strictly secular and allegorical, psychological, and anthropological explanations which drain them of spiritual power.”67 This renewed fixation on angels crosses religious and secular lines. Angels that regularly intervene in the lives of individuals form the plots of many movies and television series. Bookstores are filled with glittering books and dazzling calendars on angels. The glut of such publications suggests that the angel industry has become quite profitable.

What is the attraction? Bush offers that “angels seem more accessible than God, and more attractive. And while there is only one God, there are many angels—so many that we can each have a private angel devoted to our welfare.”68 This interest reflects hunger both for the spiritual and the miraculous and for some sign that God cares enough to intervene directly in our lives. The comments of Nora Ephron, the writer and director of the movie “Michael,” a story of a flawed angel who acts like Cupid in bringing star-crossed lovers together and even raises a dog from the dead, are revealing:

What people can’t stand is, everyone wants to believe God notices you, that He notices the details…. The horrible truth is that He probably doesn’t notice. He’s got more important things to do. But angels do notice. You know, they make the tow truck come when you have a flat tire.69

These popular sentiments about angels pander to our egocentrism in declaring that “an angel watches over me.” People crave the attention and rescue of beneficent angelic beings devoted to our personal happiness and well-being. Biblical angels, by contrast, do not say much, only impart privileged information about divine activity that is otherwise inaccessible to humans and do not remain around for long. Some authors of popular books insist that angels come to pour blessing on us, to play with us, to look after us, to heal us, “and always they try to give us what we want.”70 The explanation for the renewed interest in angels is, therefore, likely to be found here: Angels give us what we want without demanding much religious commitment or sacrifice in return.

The angels who appear on Christmas cards and in Christmas pageants have also left the impression that they are all helpful, serene, and unthreatening—announcing tidings of good cheer. Many people are ignorant of or have forgotten the angels’ more fearsome roles in Scripture (see Gen. 19:1–29; 2 Sam. 24:15–17; 2 Kings 19:35; 2 Chron. 32:21; Ps. 78:49; Isa. 37:36; Acts 12:23). But the modern-day angels have nothing to do with fighting evil or sin; they simply help to prevent bad things from happening to us. They serve us, not God, and work to improve life for us here and now. People exult in angels who stroke us gently with their wings and whisper sweet religious nothings in our ear, “Don’t worry! Be happy!” These angels never challenge us to look out for others, to wrestle with the sin in our life, or to struggle with evil and injustice in the world.

The ancient magical papyri reflect a similar stance toward angels. These records of ancient heathenism show suppliants making direct commands to various angels: “Protect me, preserve me, hear me, give me, come to me, serve me, fulfill me, perform for me.”71 This attitude corresponds to the lapel pins I saw for sale in a bookstore. There were five different beatific figures with confident descriptions of their angelic roles. One was identified as the angel of protection, who “provides protection and guidance.” The angel of success “provides the energy to be successful.” The angel of happiness brings on “good times and joy.” The angel of love brings “romance, love, great relations.” The angel of wisdom brings “knowledge and helps us make good decisions.” These modern charms may have some kind of “placebo effect” on their wearers, but they are no different from the ancient amulets that wearers hoped would bring good luck and ward off evil goblinry. They have the negative effect of turning us away from looking to Christ for help and guidance.

Another thing that makes angels so attractive today is that they are nondenominational—transcending creed, religion, and philosophy. They offer generic, inspirational stuff with little or no religious content. Since angels are also disembodied spirits and are presumed to function as intermediaries between God and humans, many assume that they are spiritually advanced. Some in New Age religions maintain that we can soar with the angels who are pure spirit and develop the same “angel consciousness.” Pope wrote:

Men would be Angels, Angels would be God.

Aspiring to be Gods, Angels fell,

Aspiring to be Angels, Men Rebel.72

The problem is that God did not create human beings to become angels, nor angels to become gods.

This preoccupation with angels is a sign of serious spiritual confusion. The reference to the “worship of angels” in our text and Paul’s concern that it undermines the supremacy of Christ provides an ideal opportunity to confront this phenomenon, which fosters serious theological error. People have tried to fill the gap that they may sense has grown between themselves and a hidden and faraway God with divine intermediaries like angels.

Speculation about angels in Israel burgeoned during the Exile and later foreign dominance, when many Jews felt abandoned by God. It was also a time when in Jewish thought God became more exalted and correspondingly more distant. The more transcendent God became, the more people thought that celestial attendants were required to sing God’s glory and to communicate divine messages to the world. They could not portray God directly but could portray God’s assistants, the angels.

When we humans feel that God is removed from our world, we become more attracted to more accessible, more useful, and more user-friendly emanations of deity. The grave peril is that these divine figures will become little more than functionaries whom we can bend to our will. The even graver peril is that they will become rivals to Christ. People will turn to them instead of Christ for protection, for help, and for assurance. Our interest in divine intermediaries whom we can more easily control and manipulate through rites and incantations can easily displace the more demanding requirements of our relationship with God and Christ. Paul affirms that our relationship with Christ is the only one that matters. We must guard against the encroachment of any rival mediators of salvation. When Christians know Christ as the risen Lord forever in our midst (Matt. 28:20), the ministry of angels dwindles in significance.

In Colossians, Paul reminds us that while Christ and the angels are divine agents, only Christ is God’s beloved Son (1:13) and the full embodiment of Deity and God’s purposes (1:19, 2:9). Only in him do we have a share in the kingdom of light, redemption, the forgiveness of sins (1:13–14; 2:13–14), and the hope of glory (1:27). Only in Christ are we reconciled to God (1:22), because only Christ died for us (1:20; 2:11). Only Christ reigns supreme over all created beings, visible and invisible (1:16; 2:10). We triumph over all the powers and authorities only in Christ, who defeated them on the cross (2:15; see Rom. 8:38–39; 1 Peter 3:22). Only Christ offers the promise of a risen life and the power to live morally in this life (Col. 3:1–3).

The movie director cited above referred to the horrible notion that God does not notice us. The horrible truth is quite the opposite—that we have ignored God and that our sins put the Son of God on the cross. The Christian message proclaims that God noticed us enough to send his Son into our dark ghetto to bring reconciliation and redemption. The horrible truth is that many continue to reject this offer of love and turn to gods of their own making.

(5) The danger of losing connection with the Head. The New Testament affirms that we cannot truly experience God or salvation apart from Christ. Paul reinforces this point with the metaphor of the head and body in 2:19. The Head gives the body everything necessary for life. Without the Head, the body would wither and die. As no member of a physical body can live by itself, no individual can live apart from the body of Christ.

The errorists were wrong in thinking that they could gain access to the heavenly realm apart from Christ. Paul declares that the church is the place where Christ’s headship over the cosmos should be most evident, precisely because it is the church that is most fully “ ‘plugged into’ (connected with) the source of supply and growth.”73 “The life-giving presence of Christ makes all the difference between an empty inflation and a true growth, such as God intended when He called the world into being.”74 Consequently, we can only experience and grow in our salvation only within the church, where we are dependent on Christ as “Head” and source of our nourishment and interconnected to one another (see John 15:4–5). Lewis writes, “We are summoned from the outset to combine as creatures with our Creator, as mortals with immortal, as redeemed sinners with sinless Redeemer.”75

Connection to Christ is decisive for growth. But Paul’s use of the image of the body shows that he does not have in mind simply an individualistic union with Christ. We can only know the Head as a member of his body. When we are joined to Christ as part of his body, we are also joined to other members. The New Testament also affirms that our experience of God and salvation does not reach us independently from the church. We cannot grow on our own without Christ; we cannot grow on our own without other Christians. Therefore, we only fool ourselves if we think we can find our meaning, purpose, and significance for God through an isolated contemplation of religious truths. That comes only in a community of believers bound to Christ and to one another. Jones points out that if we are to break the habits of sin, we need supportive friendships in the church and teachings that help us to unlearn destructive habits and to cultivate holy ones.76

Lee scores the many modern Americans who “regard Christianity that is inextricably bound to a physical community as a lower stage of faith, compared to Christianity as a way of thinking.” They prefer, he says, “the disembodied spirit of Christianity” without the church body dragging it down. He writes:

Gnostics of all periods take one look at the Church and say to themselves, “You mean this is it? You mean this is all there is? Only what the simple-minded woman or that acned kid can understand; only what that half-educated preacher is saying?”77

Bellah calls this trend in American spirituality “Sheilaism.” The name derives from a person he interviewed about God who said, “I am religious but don’t go to church. I believe that God is inside me, my own little voice.” Being religious for her does not mean being connected to anyone else. It is the flight of the alone to the alone. Sociologists tell us that nine out of ten people in America believe in God, but only a fraction worship regularly with others. If these persons are members of a church group, they may regard it “in individualistic terms” as a place in which to discover their own private understanding of the faith. The church becomes little different from a health club, where one goes to work out to fulfill some individual body-building or weight-loss goals.

The church is, instead, to be the place where we work out God’s goals for creation. When we are severed from Christ and his community, we guarantee our spiritual malnourishment. If we could ever visualize physically the souls of those cut off from the Head, they would look like the heart-wrenching pictures of enfeebled bodies starving to death.

Original Meaning

Let No Self-Important, Self-Appointed Umpires Arbitrarily Disqualify You (2:18–19)

FRANCIS COMMENTS ON 2:18 that “the interpretation of nearly every word or phrase has been disputed.”8 Giving thorough attention to the various views and their permutations is a daunting task that is best carried out in a monograph. We will therefore allow the NIV translation to set the agenda for our interpretation, which differs with it at several points.

“Do not let anyone who delights in” renders the Greek participle thelon (“wishing,” “desiring”), and this translation assumes that Paul’s expression reflects a Hebraism.9 Paul pictures the opponent as setting up “humility” as “his own goal.” The opponent then insists, “My way is superior to yours; it achieves goals you fall short of.”10 This interpretation has been widely adopted, but it does not seem likely that Paul would resort to a wooden biblicism to express himself here.

The participle thelon can also modify the verb “disqualify”: “Let no one willfully disqualify you.”11 Beare translates it: “Let no one disqualify you as he wills [not as God wills], in questions of….”12 This reading has the advantage of preserving the parallelism with 2:16, where the matters the errorists use to condemn the Colossians are introduced by preposition en (“in”; NIV, “with regard to”).13 The opponents declare the Colossians unfit because they fail to measure up on issues of humility, worship of angels, and visions.

The verb translated “disqualify for the prize” (katabrabeuo) is a rare word.14 Most assume that it retains the primary meaning of the verb brabeuo, which means to act as a judge who decides or rules and awards prizes in contests (see 3:15). These self-appointed referees rule against the believers and rob them of their deserved award (see 1 Cor. 9:24; Phil. 3:14).15 The errorists are puffed up and have the gall to gainsay the Christians’ salvation.

The NIV has the errorists “delight[ing] in false humility.” The adjective “false” does not appear in the Greek text in 2:18 or 2:23. Precisely what “humility” refers to is unclear. In such a pejorative context, one may reasonably assume that Paul scoffs at it. He may imply that it is a “false humility,” particularly since it results in their becoming “puffed up.” On the other hand, “humility” may be connected grammatically to the angels, so that Paul may have in mind the angels’ humility and worship, which the opponents observe.16 Another option is to interpret it as a reference to a specific form of humility, namely, fasting.17 The noun is linked to “harsh treatment of the body” in 2:23, so that “mortification” or “self-abasement” may be a better translation. Fasting may have been part of the preparations for the heavenly visions and revelations. In this case, such humility was intended to purge the errorists of the worldly dross that weighed down the soul and kept it from soaring spiritually.18 Self-mortification, however, can become twisted into a perverse self-exaltation.

The phrase “worship of angels” is the next knot to unravel. The word translated “worship” (threskeia) can mean “religion” (Acts 26:5, “our religion”), the practice of religion (James 1:26–27), or the worship of something (Wis. 14:18, 27). The phrase could refer to religion instituted by angels (a genitive of source). Normally, however, the object of religious veneration is in the genitive case. This would mean that Paul accuses the errorists of worshiping angels (objective genitive). Some have claimed that the Colossian errorists understood these angels to be involved in creation and the government of the world, and they worshiped them as their link to God. These angels could be regarded as malevolent and needing appeasement or as benevolent and bestowing blessing. Their so-called “worship” may only have involved propitiating them to ward off their evil effects or beseeching them for protection.19

Others have argued that this phrase refers to the worship that the angels themselves offer (subjective genitive). The angels engage in the highest office of all created beings, the adoration of God. The phrases “humility and the worship of angels,” “what he has seen,” and “goes into” can be taken together to refer to some heavenly ascent.20 The “philosophy” would not then be advocating the worship of angels but would be aspiring to enter heaven to worship as the angels do.21 The problems with this view make it an unlikely, although widely accepted, option. First, there are no instances where a noun in the genitive linked to the word “worship” functions as a subjective genitive. Second, the “self-imposed worship” (ethelothreskia) in 2:23 describes something that humans offer and is treated as something dubious.22

Arnold makes the case that Paul does not have in mind some organized cult that worshiped angels in the same way that gods were worshiped with praise, prayers, and sacrifice. The Greek word threskeia can be used to denote invocation or conjuration. He argues that Paul is referring to the magical invocation of angels to ward off evil and believes that such a practice had its roots in deeply ingrained folk beliefs and habits. Local evidence confirms that angels did play a prominent role in the religious life of the people. Whatever their primary religious orientation, the people in this area commonly called on angels to protect and help them, to bring success in business, to destroy enemies, or to remove the effects of a curse.23

The spiritual atmosphere of magic pervaded the lives of both rich and poor, both educated and uneducated, in the ancient world and may have continued to exert its effects on the Colossian believers even after their conversion. They conjured the angels, as God’s powerful agents (see Matt. 27:53), to protect them from the evil powers (identified as ta stoicheia tou kosmou, the rulers and authorities, the thrones and lordships, and every other invisible power) that could potentially injure them. They may also have called on angels to help them to make their lives successful or to bring vengeance on their enemies.24

In the polemical context that expresses Paul’s contempt for the arrogance of the “philosophy,” the reference to “the worship of angels” may well be a biased description of its practices. If the errorists were actually and actively worshiping angels, we would expect Paul to spew forth a far more passionate denunciation of such idolatry. We may infer from his relative calm on this issue that they are not actually offering worship to angelic beings or invoking them. Thus, Paul may only be disdainfully caricaturing the “philosophy’s” ritual concerns and attention to New Moons as the worship of angels.25 The aspersion would link the “philosophy” unfavorably to the familiar pagan practice of invoking angels.26

Such scorn has modern parallels. Those who grew up in conservative Protestant circles may have heard someone accuse Roman Catholics, for example, of “worshiping Mary” or of being guilty of “Mariolatry.” Others may have heard someone accuse conservative Christians of worshiping the Bible or being guilty of “bibliolatry.” An undue veneration of either lends itself to such attacks from critics. In my opinion, Paul dismisses the belief system of the “philosophy” as no better than “the worship of angels.” Christ, on the other hand, created these beings and reigns over them (1:16).

The next phrase in 2:18 is no less difficult to decipher: “Such a person goes into great detail about what he has seen.” The verb translated “goes into great detail” (embateuo) has a wide range of uses that could fit this context.27 It could be a technical term for the final stage of initiation in local mystery cults, in which the initiate crosses the divine threshold of the sanctuary’s inner shrine and receives the new life offered by the god.28

The verb may also mean “to enter into the possession of something,” in this case, the heavenly realm as part of some mystical journey.29 Heaven then becomes the unexpressed object of the verb. If this is the meaning to be used here, one can render the phrase as “entering the things he had seen.” Wright contends that this may be an ironic dismissal of their claim that they “enter into the worship of heaven itself.” In truth, what they are entering are only their own visions—“what they have seen.” “All they have discovered in their vaunted mystical experiences is a set of imaginary fantasies.”30

The verb embateuo can also mean “to investigate” or “to scrutinize” (2 Macc. 2:30) and may refer to dwelling on ecstatic visions for divine insight. The NIV adopts this interpretation with its translation “goes into great detail.” As Barth and Blanke state it, the errorists were “preoccupied with their own religious experiences.”31 Paul does not need to give the Colossians an objective description of the opponents’ beliefs and practices and only wants to deflate their false boasts by subverting them with sarcasm. Their exaggerated visions are all smoke and mirrors, much ado about nothing. Their nervy conceit is all folly.

The upshot of these experiences, whatever they may have been, is clear, and this is what provokes Paul.32 They puff up the worshiper’s “unspiritual mind” (lit., “the mind of his flesh”) with idle notions. For Paul, the mind of the flesh is something set over against God (Rom. 8:6–7) and lacks any true spiritual enlightenment. MacLeod best summarizes Paul’s antipathy for the “philosophy”: It was “emotionally elating, ego inflating, and worst of all, brother berating.”33

The root of the error is one’s failure to hold the Head (2:19).34 The verb “hold” (krateo) appears in Jesus’ critique of the Pharisees’ traditions: They were “holding to the traditions of the elders” and “of men” and “let[ting] go of the command of God” (Mark 7:3, 4, 8; see also 2 Thess. 2:15; Rev. 2:14–15). Paul opened this section in Colossians with a verb used for the transmission of tradition, “you received Christ Jesus as Lord” (2:6). Now, in 2:19, he may be underscoring the contrast between the Colossian Christians and their antagonists, who do not hold to Christ or observe his teaching. They “hold” to something other than Christ. Holding to anything other than Christ, the Head (1:18; 2:10), will cause them to disintegrate and perish.

The head-body metaphor in 2:19 assumes that the head supplies nourishment to the whole body and enables it to grow. Literally, the text reads that “it grows the growth of God” (cf. 1:6, 10). Growth hinges on a close bond with Christ, though God causes it (cf. 1 Cor. 3:6–7). All who do not hold to Christ and his teachings have cut themselves off from the only source of vitality and unity. The church is the body of Christ (1:18; 3:15) by virtue of confessing him to be the head and of dying with him and being made alive in him (2:11–13).35 Paul therefore reminds his readers again of Christ’s supremacy over all things and their total dependence on him. They will not find growth or fullness in earthly taboos, celestial observances, “worship of angels,” or star-spangled visions. Such things can only puff up human beings with the hot air of empty pride and snap the bonds that moor them to Christ.