The 260 Journey

Today’s Reading: Colossians 3

Every spring and summer, fields all over the United States are filled with athletes playing baseball. In the major leagues, the Bigs, the best players in the world come together in the thirty stadiums around the country. They draw great attention and praise. But those games wouldn’t happen or go well without the people on the field dressed in black jackets. They look different from any other person on the field, and they are called umpires.

No matter how good the players are—how fast they can pitch, how far they can hit or throw . . . the emotions of the game can cloud their decisions. And they need those umpires to keep order. Umpires decide the course and calls of the game. Who is safe and who is out. Which pitches are balls and which are strikes.

The baseball diamond needs a neutral party who sees the situation clearly and makes the correct call—not the call the fans or the players want, but the right call. They cannot be impaired by emotion, peer pressure, or even popular opinion. They must be moved by justice and the right thing.

Baseball isn’t the only thing that needs an umpire. We need an umpire for the same reason. Emotions can cloud all our decisions. We want to do the right thing, but we have so many forces fighting against us. When peer pressure comes, and the voices from the outside try to get you to move into chaos, you too have an umpire to make a call. The apostle Paul tells the Colossian believers who are being inundated with outside religious opinions and additions to walk very carefully and keep Christ in focus. He says, “Let the peace of Christ keep you in tune with each other, in step with each other. None of this going off and doing your own thing. And cultivate thankfulness” (Colossians 3:15, MSG).

Think about this phrase, Let the peace of God rule in your hearts. The peace of God is your umpire. The key word is rule. In Sparkling Gems from the Greek, Rick Renner discusses this word:

I especially want you to notice the word “rule” in this verse. It is from the Greek word brabeuo, which in ancient times was used to describe the umpire or referee who moderated and judged the athletic competitions that were so popular in the ancient world.

Paul uses this word to tell us that the peace of God can work like an umpire or referee in our hearts, minds, and emotions.

Peace must guide us to each place and in each decision. Colossians 3:15 could be translated: “Let the peace of God call the shots in your life”; “Let the peace of God be the umpire in your life and actions”; “Let the peace of God act as referee in your emotions and your decisions.”

If we have no peace over something, then we are out at first base, and we need to get off the field. If we have peace over a decision, the umpire has told us that we are safe and we get to stay and continue on. Peace is the guiding principle for the believer—the umpire that tells us what’s right so that chaos doesn’t ensue.

Do you ever say about a decision, “I feel funny about this” or “Something doesn’t feel right about going here or doing this”? That means you don’t feel peace.

Don’t overrule the umpire. Peace is God’s mechanism to help you make good decisions today and stay on the field. As Curtis Hutson said, “When the believer is faced with a decision regarding a questionable matter, he should never proceed unless he has complete peace about it.” A host of emotions come to us because life throws so many things at us. And nothing can blur our decision making like emotions.

Look at what Paul tells us after the peace verse. It’s brilliant: “Let the Word of Christ—the Message—have the run of the house. Give it plenty of room in your lives. Instruct and direct one another using good common sense” (verse 16, MSG). Paul is saying that the best place to start with wanting to know the right call is the Bible. If you want the peace of Christ, start with the Word of God. You can always bet on a safe from the umpire if the Word of God supports the next steps.

Peace is the umpire. The Word of God is the playbook the umpire works out of.

Day 180

Today’s Reading: Colossians 2

Charles Spurgeon told of an event that took place in ancient Rome. A severe famine had struck the North African colonies, so Emperor Nero sent ships to the stricken area. When the starving people saw the ships arriving, they shouted with joy. But Spurgeon recounted the tragic end of the story. When the ships sailed into port, the North Africans discovered they were full of sawdust to lay on the floor of the circuses Rome was exporting to the colonies. The people yearned for sustenance; they received sawdust.

Unlike what was exported from Rome, I’m happy to say that in the book of Colossians we are about to find the arrival of something that will fill our hearts and souls—Jesus. The book of Colossians is a vessel bringing Christ back to His rightful and proper place and it’s a book that fights religions that want to export sawdust and a circus!

The apostle Paul said to be very careful of people wanting to distract you from the main attraction. Consider his warning:

"Watch out for people who try to dazzle you with big words and intellectual double-talk. They want to drag you off into endless arguments that never amount to anything. They spread their ideas through the empty traditions of human beings and the empty superstitions of spirit beings. But that’s not the way of Christ. Everything of God gets expressed in him, so you can see and hear him clearly. You don’t need a telescope, a microscope, or a horoscope to realize the fullness of Christ, and the emptiness of the universe without him. When you come to him, that fullness comes together for you, too. His power extends over everything. . . .

So don’t put up with anyone pressuring you in details of diet, worship services, or holy days. All those things are mere shadows cast before what was to come; the substance is Christ. Don’t tolerate people who try to run your life, ordering you to bow and scrape, insisting that you join their obsession with angels and that you seek out visions. They’re a lot of hot air, that’s all they are. They’re completely out of touch with the source of life, Christ, who puts us together in one piece, whose very breath and blood flow through us." (Colossians 2:8-10, 16-19, MSG)

When you have a lot of people, you have a lot of opinions. And you can have a lot of opinions, but not have a lot of truth. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, but not everyone is entitled to their own truth. There is a difference between truth and opinion. The problem comes when you think your opinion is the truth.

We have to define what is opinion and what is truth. We must hold on to truth for dear life and hold onto personal opinion very lightly. Truth is that which is true for all times, all people, and all places. It can’t be an American truth. It can’t be a Democrat or Republican truth. Truth is truth. Opinions are for our personal world and always have an expiration date. Opinions don’t last forever. But truth doesn’t expire; it has no expiration date.

Author and pastor Charles Caleb Colton once said, “The greatest friend of truth is time, her greatest enemy is prejudice, and her constant companion is humility.” What is catastrophic is when we think our opinion is truth and we are unwilling to listen to those who see it differently.

The apostle Paul is telling the church to grasp onto truth and not opinion. Colossians is a fighting book, and Paul is telling us to fight against syncretism. Syncretism is when we combine Christianity with so called “cool stuff from other religions.” In Colossians, Paul was fighting against this because the believers were trying to get two things synched with Christianity—ceremonies and philosophy, or more specifically, Jewish ritualism and eastern mysticism.

This is not just a first-century issue and problem. It is also a twenty-first-century problem. We see people trying to import sawdust into Christianity. Whenever we need Jesus plus something else, it’s sawdust. If we need Jesus plus a special book or to be part of a certain group of people or to wear a certain outfit, it’s a boat of sawdust for the circus. Tullian Tchividjian wrote a book that’s title says it all: Jesus + Nothing = Everything. Paul is fighting for the second part of the equation. Paul is telling us to stop inserting something where nothing belongs. If we do, it’s religion and religious, but not Jesus.

Day 179

Today’s Reading: Colossians 1

C. S. Lewis once said, “Put first things first and we get second things thrown in: put second things first and we lose both first and second things.” Lewis is reminding us that even if good second things get first, we end up with nothing. If church is first, your denomination is first, worship music is first—those are good but they have to be second.

In today’s chapter, Paul makes it really clear that Jesus is first and Jesus is everything. Paul is telling us what is at the heart of Christianity.

What do lollipops, truffles, and the Christian life all have in common? It’s what’s at the center that counts! If you get to the middle of your lollipop or truffle and discover nothing, then there is nothing but disappointment.

This may be obvious, but you can’t have the word Christianity without Christ. Otherwise, it’s just ianity. Like that makes sense. You can’t be a Christian without Christ, then the word is just ian. It doesn’t make sense. And if the chewy-centered Tootsie Pop or truffle of the church, or the Christian life, or the Bible, or prayer is not Christ, then it’s nothing but a farce and failure.

Here is the center for Paul—and I’m replacing the pronouns with the name of Jesus, so it’s very clear:

Jesus rescued us from the domain of darkness, and transferred us to the kingdom of [God’s] beloved Jesus, in Jesus we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. Jesus is the image of the invisible God, Jesus is the firstborn of all creation. For by Jesus all things were created, both in the heavens and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things have been created through Jesus and for Jesus. Jesus is before all things, and in Jesus all things hold together. Jesus is also head of the body, the church; and Jesus is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that Jesus Himself will come to have first place in everything. For it was the Father’s good pleasure for all the fullness to dwell in Jesus and through Jesus to reconcile all things to Jesus, having made peace through the blood of Jesus’ cross. (Colossians 1:13-20, author changes in italics)

Jesus first and Jesus everywhere.

The word to describe this is preeminence. That big word means Jesus is first and everything. That’s what Paul is telling us in Colossians 1: Jesus is the center, not the circumference. My favorite part of Paul’s praise is in verse 18 where he states “that He would have first place in everything.” There is no place Jesus is not first and preeminent.

Consider these words from Charles Spurgeon: “I believe there will be more in Heaven than in hell. If anyone asks me why I think so, I answer, because Christ, in everything, is to ‘have the pre-eminence,’ and I cannot conceive how He could have the pre-eminence if there are to be more in the dominions of Satan than in Paradise.”

That is so good. There will be more in heaven than in hell. Why? Because He must be preeminent.

You are familiar, no doubt, with one of the most famous paintings ever done by any artist: “The Last Supper” by Leonardo da Vinci, that classic portrayal of Christ and the twelve apostles at the table. Many stories have sprung up over the centuries about the painting. Many students of art history believe that the painting, when first created, was different from the version we now see. They believe that initially, an exquisite lace border ran the outside length of the tablecloth. Upon completion, when da Vinci invited a group of art students to view his masterpiece, they were impressed by the delicate design of that lacework and praised its exquisite design. Upon seeing the reaction of these young men, the artist grabbed a paint brush and proceeded to paint over the lace. “Now, you fools, look at the face of Christ!”

Da Vinci said it. The apostle Paul is doing the same.

Day 178

Today’s Reading: Philippians 4

Did you know Amazon keeps track of your highlights? When Kindle readers mark sentences, the online retailer notes it so that everyone can see a faint dotted line on their e-reader that tells them someone underlined the sentence or passage. Readers can also see how many other people underlined that same passage.

Recently Amazon released a list of the most popular passages in some of its bestselling books, such as The Hunger Games, the Harry Potter series, and classics like Pride and Prejudice. Amazon also included the Bible in this list. Guess what the most highlighted passage in the Holy Bible was around the world? I covered the answer to see if I could guess correctly. I was certain it had to be one of three passages: John 3:16, Psalm 23, or the Lord’s Prayer in Matthew 6:9-13. But no, it was one that’s striking a deep chord in today’s worried world, and it comes from today’s chapter:

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:6-7, NIV)

Kindle readers throughout the whole world highlighted this Bible passage on their Kindle more than any other verse. Here’s the passage from The Message:

"Don’t fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God’s wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It’s wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life."

I love that part—“Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers.” As author Tiffany Berry once said, “If you’re going to worry, there’s no need to pray, and if you’re going to pray, there’s no need to worry.”

We live in a worried world. And anxiety can get the best of us. In The Me I Want to Be, pastor John Ortberg offers insight on how to respond to anxiety:

"Psychiatrist Edward Hallowell says it like this: Never worry alone. When anxiety grabs my mind, it is self-perpetuating. Worrisome thoughts reproduce faster than rabbits, so one of the most powerful ways to stop the spiral of worry is simply to disclose my worry to a friend."

In today’s chapter, Paul tells us who our best friend is to disclose our worry to: God Himself. As Donald J. Morgan says, “Every evening I turn my troubles over to God—He’s going to be up all night anyway.” According to the apostle Paul, we choose to shape worries into prayers and that in essence is disclosing it to our Friend.

I had someone once talk to me about their week. This person said, “I have sighed more than I breathed.” Wow, I have been there. Those are weeks weighed down with worry and not peace. When we’re in those kinds of weeks, as the saying goes, “It’s not the load that breaks you down, it’s the way you carry it.” Philippians 4 gives us a way to carry the load—by shaping our worries into prayers.

When was the last time you meditated on a Bible verse? Some people get weird definitions of what “meditation” is. Let me explain it like the Puritan writers of the past explained it. They said you know how to meditate if you know how to worry, as worry is simply negative meditation. When you worry, you think about the problem all day long.

When you meditate in a positive way, you take a Bible verse and turn it over in your mind all day long. This is one of those verses I would attempt to meditate on. Write it down and put it in your car so you can see it as you drive. Tape it on your bathroom mirror so that as you get ready for work in the morning, those are the first words you see. Tape it to the refrigerator door, the most used door in the home, so you can keep it always before you. And whisper to yourself all day long, “I am shaping my worries into prayer.”

It goes something like this: The washer is broken, and it will cost you $400, out of an already tight budget, to get it fixed. I will shape my worries into prayer, you remind yourself. So you pray, “God, You’ve got this. I’m grateful for the clothes on my back. And I would like to have clean clothes on my back. You can provide in ways I can’t even imagine. I give You this setback.”

Or it goes like this: You hear through the grapevine that your company is going to lay off employees. You have worked there for the past ten years. In your mind, you are fearful that you are not going to make the cut. You remind yourself, I will shape my worries into prayer. And you pray, “God, my future is in Your hands. You have always been faithful to me and my family, and I believe You will be faithful with whatever happens. I don’t have the energy or the emotional capacity to stress over this, so I let You take it off my heart and mind and let You carry it.”

An average person’s anxiety is focused on:

40 percent: things that will never happen

30 percent: things about the past that can’t be changed

12 percent: things about criticism by others, mostly untrue

10 percent: health, which gets worse with stress

8 percent: real problems that will be faced

The lead character, Van Wilder, in the movie of the same name makes an insightful observation, “Worrying is like a rocking chair: it gives you something to do, but doesn’t get you anywhere.”

Shape your worries into prayers.

Day 177

Today’s Reading: Philippians 3

We mentioned this powerful Kierkegaard quote in an earlier day’s reading, but it bears repeating, because it fits the apostle Paul. Kierkegaard said, “It is so much easier to become a Christian when you aren’t one than to become one when you assume you already are.”

This statement seems to fit clearly with Paul’s evaluation of himself pre- and post-conversion in today’s reading. His assessment may shock you because it seems somewhat reversed. Here is how the apostle thought of himself before meeting Jesus in Acts 9 on the road to Damascus. As a reminder, in Acts 9, he was on his way to imprison and kill Christians. Let me read Philipians 3:4-6:

It’s true that I once relied on all that I had become. I had a reason to boast and impress people with my accomplishments—more than others—for my pedigree was impeccable. I was born a true Hebrew of the heritage of Israel as the son of a Jewish man from the tribe of Benjamin. I was circumcised eight days after my birth and was raised in the strict tradition of Orthodox Judaism, living a separated and devout life as a Pharisee. And concerning the righteousness of the Torah, no one surpassed me; I was without a peer. Furthermore, as a fiery defender of the truth, I persecuted the messianic believers with religious zeal. (Philippians 3:4-6, TPT)

Verse 6 in the New American Standard Bible says that “as to the righteousness which is in the Law, [he was] found blameless.” Found blameless? He was killing Christians, but he said he was innocent of any wrongdoing. One of the strongest deceptions of sin is that we exaggerate our goodness and importance and we become dismissive of our behavior. That’s exactly the lie of being a Pharisee.

The New Testament will use this word, the flesh. It does not mean human skin. It means human effort. It deals with human energy to make our humanity acceptable and exceptional, especially to God. In the Bible, God is clear that human effort, the flesh, cannot make God like us any more than He does already.

Here’s the part that Paul found as a hurdle to trusting his life to God—his flesh. Paul was saying, I had good flesh, or my flesh was making me look exceptional. That’s why Paul said if anyone could have bragged or boasted on how well he was doing it was Paul. This is what happens to a lot of moral people—they believe they are good and don’t see their need for a Savior.

In the book A Grief Observed, C. S. Lewis profoundly observed, “All [of us are] equally bankrupt, but some have not yet declared.” Lewis was telling us that whether our flesh is good or bad, we are all bankrupt and need God. That’s our starting place with God—acknowledging, “I am bankrupt.”

Now I want you to see the difference between pre-conversion Paul and post-conversion Paul. He encounters the resurrected Jesus and has a new assessment after declaring bankruptcy with God:

I’m not saying that I have this all together, that I have it made. But I am well on my way, reaching out for Christ, who has so wondrously reached out for me. Friends, don’t get me wrong: By no means do I count myself an expert in all of this, but I’ve got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward—to Jesus. I’m off and running, and I’m not turning back. (Philippians 3:12-14, MSG)

Before he was blameless and innocent. Now he recognizes he doesn’t have it all together anymore and is not even close. When we think about it, we would think the opposite should happen. Before we become a Christian, we feel like we don’t have it all together and after we become a Christian, we have everything together. And Paul shows us the opposite happened to him.

As C. S. Lewis wrote, “History . . . [is] the long terrible story of man trying to find something other than God which will make him happy.” You will never find that happiness even when you are doing your best without God, because you will realize something is missing and something is hollow inside. The best man, the apostle Paul, got it. I hope you get it today.