“O Lord, who may abide in your tent? Who may dwell on your holy hill?”
We are invited into relationship with God: into the presence of God. A question is addressed to the God of Israel, using his personal name יְ֭הוָֹה: (which may have been pronounced”Yahweh”) who can live in Your presence?
People sometimes get idyllic notions of what the early Church was like. It is imagined that the early Church was more Spirit-filled, more unified, free from many of the problems the Church has today. It’s just part of that instinctive yearning people have for “the good old days.” I don’t know why people believe in this notion. It seems to be intuitive: sometime, way back when, people didn’t have the problems we have today. But, a careful reading of the letters of the apostle Paul in our New Testament will quickly disprove this notion.
The letters of Paul were often written to correct false teachings and false practices that had arisen in the churches to which he wrote. We owe much of the New Testament to the problems in the early Church.
Some of the unique features of Paul’s letter to the Colossians can be explained by the fact that the apostle Paul is replying to a type of false teaching (or false teachings) that were circulating in the Colossian church. This concern comes to the surface, for example here:
It was characteristic of Paul to begin his letters with words of encouragement and congratulation. As we read further in this letter we will discover that he wrote it to correct false ideas that were current in the congregation. He was certainly concerned about the false teaching at Collosae — but, it did not approach his anger and outrage over the false teaching at Galatia. In Paul’s letter to the Galatians, he leaves the encouragement paragraph out altogether and launches immediately into his angry words of correction. But, here he wants his readers to hear a good word first. He takes time to give them encouragement and praise.
In the simple, stock opening with which this letter begins, we already gain insight into Paul’s sense of calling and vocation. We see his conception of who he is, and what he knows his task in life to be. As he turns to the next part of his greeting — again nothing unusual here at all — he expresses his view of who the Colossian Christians are.
“…to the saints and faithful brethren in Christ who are at Colossae: Grace to you and peace from God our Father.” (NASB).
They are: “saints (who are) in Colossae” and “faithful brothers in Christ.” The New Testament refers to Christian believers as “saints” (ἁγίοις).
At this point English terminology is sometimes confusing, because we have two different roots here. The family of Greek words that express the idea of “holiness” are sometimes translated “holy”, “holiness” using the “hol-” root and sometimes “saint”, “sanctify” using words derived from the Latin sanctus. So, “holy” is the adjective, but “sanctify” is the verb. It’s a bit confusing. In the Greek language these are closely related, all beginning with the same root: ἅγιος (holy), ἁγιάζω (sanctify), and so forth. I just mention this because the close relationship between these words is generally lost in translation. Sanctify means holy-fy: to make holy. Holiness and Sanctification are almost synonyms.
Those to whom Paul writes are identified as being God’s people: saints. They are identified as a people belonging to God.
The word “holy” speaks of God’s essential nature. People or things designated as “holy” have a relationship to God. These things/people are devoted to God. This corresponds to the Old Testament conception of the “chosen people”: those people who are especially related to God, and whose lives are to bring glory and honor to God. Though Paul writes this letter (we discover as we go along) to correct false teachings in this church, he does not hesitate to call them the “saints that are in Colossae.”
This also goes for the other letters Paul writes to troubled or confused congregations. They may be in need of correction in their thinking, but he still dares to call them the “saints.” So, the title “saint” is not necessarily reserved only for the doctrinally correct or even morally perfect Christians. Ordinary, fallible, even sometimes mistaken, Christians are included among the saints.
The point here, is that these people have numbered themselves among the people of God. The faith that brings justification (i.e., initial relationship with God) also brings initial sanctification. Faith holy-fies. Faith sets us on the road of transformation and Christlikeness. Faith makes it possible for our lives to glorify God.
By faith we are “in Christ” ( ἐν Χριστῷ). That is to say, we are in relationship with Christ.
They are also called: πιστοῖς (“faithful” ). We immediately recognize πιστοῖς as a word related to all the other New Testament words for “faith” or “belief” or “trust.” As such, it could be translated “faithful’ or “believing” — and probably suggests both ideas: they have set out, by faith, to follow Jesus Christ. They are continuing in that faith: obedient and trustworthy.
The word implies both “faith” in the sense of personal belief and faithfulness in the sense of actively following after Christ. It is the shame of contemporary evangelicalism that these ideas have been torn asunder. What you believe is what you live by! The evidence of faith is faithfulness.
The New Testament knows no separation between faith and obedience — they are part of the same reality. Faith is the basis of what we do. It is far more than simply what we (sometimes) say.
They are faithful ἀδελφοῖς (“brothers”). Of course, this term assumes that only the men of the church are reading or hearing this letter. That was the cultural reality of the time. The NRSV says “brothers and sisters” because our cultural reality is (thankfully) quite different. This is not a literal translation. But,on the other hand, it’s a helpful recognition that times have changed.
The important thing about this word (the same word, ἀδελφὸς used in verse 1 to speak of Timothy) is that it stresses relationship. Long ago when I was a young man (and a new Christian), I was part of a conservative Holiness-influenced congregation where people spoke of one another as “Brother” and “Sister.” I think they were on to something, to tell you the truth. The earliest Christians thought of themselves as belonging to a family together: brothers and sisters in Christ.
In Christ (ἐν Χριστῷ) we are related to one another! In Mark 3:35 Jesus says: “Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.” (NRSV). In this light, it’s all the more interesting that Paul introduces his companion Timothy as “the brother” (Τιμόθεος ὁ ἀδελφὸς). He needs no other credentials. He could have said leader or preacher or given him some title. But, “brother” is the word he chooses for a recommendation.
To these saints and faithful brothers & sisters in Colossae, Paul pronounces his usual blessing (compare Romans 1:7, 1 Corinthians 1:3, 2 Corinthians 1:2, Galatians 1:3, Ephesians 1:2, Philippians 1:2, 1 Thessalonians 1:1, 2 Thessalonians 1:2, Titus 1:4, Philemon 3). But, for some unknown reason, he leaves off his usual “and the Lord Jesus Christ” phrase.
χάρις ὑμῖν καὶ εἰρήνη ἀπὸ θεοῦ πατρὸς ἡμῶν. “Grace to you and peace from God our Father.” (NRSV)
χάρις (“grace“). This word speaks of God’s favor and good will toward us. Thus, it refers to everything in our lives that is the result of God’s favor.
We also come to speak of grace as God’s unmerited favor to us in Jesus Christ. At this point the word enters the Church’s own distinctive vocabulary: and becomes a catch-all term for all the good things God wants to communicate to us through Christ.
In its root, it signifies “that which brings joy.” It is closely related to the words χαίρω (“to rejoice“) and χαρά (“joy“).
Since grace brings joy, it implies that two persons are involved. Someone has something good to give. Someone else is in a position to receive it. Grace is kindness or mercy given without expectation of return. it is kindness and mercy for its own sake. A child looks at a bicycle he could never afford. An unknown benefactor buys it for him. It’s grace. Jesus hears two blind men by the side of the road, calling out for mercy (Matthew 20:30f). Jesus touches their eyes and they see (Matthew 20:34). It’s grace. God looks down on the foolish and wayward human race, watching the ways in which we bring pain and suffering into our own lives and the lives of those around us. Yet, instead of anger, God acts our of compassion. “For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish, but have eternal life.” (John 3:16 NASB). It’s grace.
Some people rarely think of grace as “that which brings joy and delight,” but that is an essential part of the meaning of the term. Grace brings delight. God’s will for us is joy and happiness — yes, even in the midst of a sometimes discouraging life. “These things I have spoken to you, that My joy may be in you, and that your joy may be made full.” (John 15:11 NASB).
Long, long ago, I was taught this acrostic: God’s Riches At Christ’s Expense. While this is no definition of the meaning of the word, as such, it is a good expression of the Christian gospel of grace — and easy to remember, besides.
εἰρήνη (“peace”). We fill in the meaning of this Greek term from the richness of it’s Hebrew equivalent שָׁלוֹם. It implies harmony and well-being — far more than the cessation of conflict. According to the Hebrew/Aramaic to English Dictionary and Index to the NIV Old Testament from the Zondervan NIV Exhaustive Concordance (Edward W. Goodrick, John R. Kohlenberger III, and James A. Swanson, editors), the word suggests:
peace, safety, prosperity, well-being; intactness, wholeness; peace can have a focus of security, safety which can bring feelings of satisfaction, well-being, and contentment.
I believe peace is a distinctly Christian state of mind — or possibility. With conflict all around us, we can still be at peace. We have found peace with our Creator and God, the One who is (as Tillich famously said) the Ground of our Being.
John Wesley (1703 –1791)
Grace and peace are the essence of the Christian experience.
But true religion, or a heart right toward God and man, implies happiness as well as holiness. For it is not only ‘righteousness,’ but also ‘peace and joy in the Holy Ghost.’ What peace? ‘The peace of God,’ which God only can give, and the world cannot take away; the peace which ‘passeth all understanding,’ all barely rational conception; being a supernatural sensation, a divine taste, of ‘the powers of the world to come;’ such as the natural man knoweth not, how wise soever in the things of this world; nor, indeed, can he know it, in his present state, ‘because it is spiritually discerned.’ It is a peace that banishes all doubt, all painful uncertainty; the Spirit of God bearing witness with the spirit of a Christian, that he is ‘a child of God.’ And it banishes fear, all such fear as hath torment; the fear of the wrath of God; the fear of hell; the fear of the devil; and, in particular, the fear of death: he that hath the peace of God, desiring, if it were the will of God, ‘to depart, and to be with Christ.’
With this peace of God, wherever it is fixed in the soul, there is also ‘joy in the Holy Ghost;’ joy wrought in the heart by the Holy Ghost, by the ever-blessed Spirit of God. He it is that worketh in us that calm, humble rejoicing in God, through Christ Jesus, ‘by whom we have now received the atonement,’ ??????????, the reconciliation with God; and that enables us boldly to confirm the truth of the royal Psalmist’s declaration, ‘Blessed is the man’ (or rather, happy) ‘whose unrighteousness is forgiven, and whose sin is covered.’ He it is that inspires the Christian soul with that even, solid joy, which arises from the testimony of the Spirit that he is a child of God; and that gives him to ‘rejoice with joy unspeakable, in hope of the glory of God;’ hope both of the glorious image of God, which is in part and shall be fully ‘revealed in him;’ and of that crown of glory which fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for him.
This holiness and happiness, joined in one, are sometimes styled, in the inspired writings, ‘the kingdom of God,’ (as by our Lord in the text,) and sometimes, ‘the kingdom of heaven.’ It is termed ‘the kingdom of God,’ because it is the immediate fruit of God’s reigning in the soul. So soon as ever he takes unto himself his mighty power, and sets up his throne in our hearts, they are instantly filled with this ‘righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost.’ It is called ‘the kingdom of heaven’ because it is (in a degree) heaven opened in the soul.
ἀπὸ θεοῦ πατρὸς ἡμῶν (“from God our Father‘). Here is the true source of all good, all harmony, all peace, all grace, all lasting joy and happiness. In 2 Corinthians 1:3 there is a wonderful phrase, where Paul calls God: ὁ πατὴρ τῶν οἰκτιρμῶν καὶ θεὸς πάσης παρακλήσεως — “the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort.” (NIV).
We need grace and peace in our world today. We need grace and peace in our churches. We need grace and peace in our families. We have lots of people who think they have right opinions. Grace and peace flow to us from God — and they are the evidence we are “in Christ.”
The apostle Paul’s letter to the Colossians begins in a routine and standard manner. The opening greeting and salutation mirrors what we find in his other letters, especially Philippians and Ephesians. Nevertheless, even this brief, “stock” greeting is worth consideration. It is loaded with meaning, actually. These words tell us about a lot about Paul, and a lot about his wishes for the church.
These verses are our first glimpse, in this letter, of the author and his message.
I’m not sure how I first got interested in Paul’s letter to the Colossians, but it is a part of the Scriptures to which I keep returning. When I began my Christian life as a young man, I set myself to reading the Scriptures. No one taught me how to begin. No one gave me any advice. I don’t know whether that is good or bad, since I probably would not have taken anyone’s advice anyway. But, there were many parts of the Bible that surprised me. There were many parts that bored and confused me. And, there were many parts that fascinated and spoke to me. I was enthralled, for example, by the prophecies of Ezekiel. When I got to the Song of Solomon, I was surprised to find a book erotic love poetry (odd-sounding though it was) in the Bible. On the other hand, the voice of Jesus in the Gospels called me again and again to re-examine my life.
And, for some reason, Paul’s letter to the Colossians was one of the books that spoke to me and intrigued me. It still does. Part of the fascination is the strong Pauline polemic against legalism. Part of it was the polemic against “philosophy.” Part of it is the fact that Paul discusses holy living — what I had come to refer to as “Spirit-filled living” — without much of any explicit reference to the Holy Spirit. The book has a strong Christological emphasis. And, the call to holy living found in Chapter 3 is a call to “let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts….”
There was a time when I thought it was selfish and improper to pray for a blessing on myself. I should pray for others. I should put others first. God would bless as it was deemed appropriate.
I can thank Bruce Wilkerson’s book The Prayer of Jabez for changing my mind about that. Not that I’ve read the (little) book. I never did. I didn’t need to. It was once quite popular — a Christian fad during 2001 and several years after. I used to hear about the book continually. People would quote from it, and summarize it, and refer to it. Other people denounced the book and it’s sudden popularity. Since then the whole phenomenon has been largely forgotten.
Anyway, back then, I got curious. So, I looked up the actual prayer of Jabez in the Bible. It’s in 1 Chronicles.
The story of Jesus’ transfiguration dovetails with a persistent theme in all the Gospels: Jesus’ prayer life.
The Gospels let us know that Jesus often sought out times and places for private prayer. In this, Jesus stands out from the other Biblical characters. Yes, other Biblical characters are portrayed as people of prayer — Moses, Elijah, and others — but no one more than Jesus. This runs contrary to a naive theology: as the Son of God, it seems as if Jesus would be the least in need of prayer and solitude, and the other Bible characters, being mere mortals, the most. And, maybe they were. But, Jesus was the one who sought out the place of prayer the most.
Here is the fountainhead of all subsequent teaching on the life of prayer in the various Christian traditions — the prayer life of Jesus.
“Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem.” (NRSV.)
It was while he was praying that “the appearance of his face changed” (τὸ εἶδος τοῦ προσώπου αὐτοῦ ἕτερον). In Exodus 34:29-35, we are told the story of Moses coming down from the Mount with the two tablets of the covenant in his hand and it says: “Moses did not know that the skin of his face shone because he had been talking with God.” (Exodus 34:29 NRSV.) This is a similar case.
I can’t state it better than H. D. M. Spence did, as he waxed eloquent in the old Pulpit Commentary:
“The marvellous change evidently passed over Jesus while he was in prayer, probably because of his intense prayer. Real, close communion with God ever imparts to the countenance of the one who has thus entered into communion with the High and Holy One, a new and strange beauty. Very many have noticed at times this peculiar and lovely change pass over the faces of God’s true saints as they prayed — faces perhaps old and withered, grey with years and wrinkled with care. A yet higher degree of transfiguration through communion with God is recorded in the case of Moses, whose face, after he had been with his God-Friend on the mount, shone with so bright a glory that mortal eye could not bear to gaze on it until the radiance began to fade away. A similar change is recorded to have taken place in the case of Stephen when he pleaded his Divine Master’s cause in the Sanhedrin hall at Jerusalem with such rapt eloquence that to the by-standers his face then, we read, “was as the face of an angel.” Stephen told his audience later on, in the course of that earnest and impassioned pleading, that to him the very heavens were opened, and that his eyes were positively gazing on the beatific vision. Yet a step higher still was this transfiguration of our Lord. St. Luke tells us simply that, ‘as he prayed, the fashion of his countenance was altered.’”
Jesus appears transfigured before them. Christ appears now in his true glory. Christ appears now in his end-of-time glory. This story is quite different than the resurrection stories — for there Jesus’ ordinariness is emphasized: he is mistaken for the gardener, he meets with the two disciples traveling to Emmaus as a conversation partner — only to be recognized for who he is in the breaking of the bread. And so forth. The resurrection Jesus is not an overwhelming presence. But, the transfiguration Jesus is: his clothes are dazzling white.
Jesus is here identified with the Shekinah glory of God. This kind of thing brought later generations of Christians to speak of Christ as: “God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God….” (The Nicene Creed.)
And, with Jesus — talking to him actually — are Moses and Elijah. They represent the Law and the Prophets. Moses and Elijah are talking to Jesus about his “departure” (ἔξοδον = exodus). They are talking to him about the events of the Cross, and resurrection, and ascension (“They… were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem.“) Jesus’ mission is spoken of here in terms of his giving of himself to redeem humankind.
The implicit claim here is that everything in the religious traditions of Israel are now culminating in Jesus’ death and resurrection. For us, this points to a progressive unity of the Old and New Testaments. As Jesus says in the Gospel of Matthew he comes not to abolish the law and the prophets but to fulfill them (Matthew 5:17). Faith in Christ challenges us to see the Bible record as a progressive but continuous story, culminating with the account of Jesus Christ.
“Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, “Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah” — not knowing what he said. While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud.” (NRSV.)
The text implies: they almost slept through it! They were tired, but they saw it all since they had (as it happened) remained awake.
An old and unanswerable question here is: how did Peter know these were Moses and Elijah? I’ll leave you to speculate on that one….
But, it is clear that Peter is overwhelmed by this experience. Luke lets us know that he blurts out something stupid: “Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings….” Then the cloud overshadowed them. Remember: clouds are often associated with the visible glory of God throughout the Bible. So, this is the Shekinah (שְׁכִינָה) glory of God, and they are terrified (ἐφοβήθησαν) as they enter it. While this is a form of the common verb for “fear” (φοβέω) — the verb is sometimes used to mean “reverent fear” (Mark 6:20; Luke 1:50; Acts 10:2; Ephesians 5:33; Revelation 11:18).
This, of course, is the quintessential Mountain Top Experience — a term preachers love to use. Notice: it was not sought. They were tired, but it so happened they were awake enough to experience this. And: it is not an end in itself. It is designed to impress them with the revelation of God in Christ — and their need to heed it.
“Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.” (NRSV.)
Christ’s voice is the voice they must heed above all. As Christians we come to understand the preparatory messages of the Law and the Prophets in the light of what God has done and said through Christ. Christ is the key. We interpret all that has come before in the light of Christ.
The whole point of this overwhelming encounter is to cement in their minds the need to heed Jesus Christ. “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” True discipleship is more than a mountaintop experience — it is a day to day following after Christ — giving heed to his example and teaching.
John Nolland remarks in the Word Biblical Commentary:
It is not possible—and it is not right — to freeze this moment of glory. The aftermath of the voice speaks as eloquently as had the voice itself. The moment of glory has vanished. Jesus is alone. The mountaintop experience has passed and what remains is the way of the cross as the way to permanence of glory. They have seen the glory that by right belongs to Jesus, but it belongs to him the other side of death and resurrection.
The Revised Common Lectionary gives preachers the option to include Luke 9:37-43. This is the story of Jesus delivering a demonized boy — after the disciples could not help. The contrast is sharp, and this has led to the common rhetoric about “Mountain Top Experiences” versus service “in the valley.”
Prayer and service go hand in hand.
A FREE GIFT TO PREACHERS: Here is a PPTX file for a sermon based on this passage . You can use this, edit this, change this however you wish — it is free for you to use (or not). Click this link: With Christ on the Mountaintop.
“Praise the LORD! Oh give thanks to the LORD, for He is good; For His loving-kindness is everlasting.” (Psalms 106:1 NASB).
It is an exhortation. The “hallelujah” is an imperative. We are being told to praise.
I don’t think this is an attempt to command an emotion. This is not the same as: “Don’t worry, be happy.” I think I am being told to turn my mind toward the God who alone is worthy of praise. Emotion cannot be commanded. Emotion arises when I turn my mind toward something that awakens that feeling.
To feel an emotion, I must find the object that arouses it. Sin, guilt and failure cannot be allowed to be the last word. It leaves me in despair. We turn from ourselves toward God. As we remember that God is good (ט֑וֹב) and that God’s steadfast love (חַסְדֹּֽ) endures forever, hope and joy and purpose stir in us again.
It is true, I think, that as the Creator and Source of our life God is worthy of praise. But, it is God’s character, known through the history of salvation, that truly awakens praise. God is good. God demonstrates a never-gives-uplove (חַסְדֹּֽ) which continually chases after us. So, the strength and vitality of my praise today depends upon my belief that God is good and gracious and merciful and loyal and persistent.
Many years ago — when we were living in the Byron Center, Michigan area — I attended a couple of prayer retreats with a small group of fellow pastors from the area. We spent some time at St. Gregory’s Abbey in Three Rivers, Michigan. We were there from Monday evening to Tuesday afternoon.
I always appreciate places like this where silence and meditation are practiced. Being on retreat in a place like this is an invitation to silence and to mindfulness about ourselves and God’s presence with us.
What I remember about it is this: the retreat began to re-awaken my desire to be with God, to be in prayer, to meditate anew on the Scriptures. It re-awakened the desire to listen. I had a renewed desire to experience (or recognize) God’s presence.
I need to continually re-affirm for myself anew that God is good and steadfast and loyal and gracious and loving. And, that is what Sunday morning worship is so important. That’s why having a prayer time in the morning can be so important. It turns our mind toward God. Even at the times I have felt most alienated from the church, there is still within me a desire to worship. I am not in the hands of fate — I am in the hands of God.
“Who can speak of the mighty deeds of the LORD, Or can show forth all His praise?” (Psalm 106:2 NASB).
At times my prayers are filled with words. But, if God’s deeds cannot be adequately recounted, what is the importance of my words?
At times I so want my words to reflect the emotion I feel. Hmm. Or is it the emotion I think I ought to feel?
At times all the words seem empty and inadequate and pointless. What do I need to tell God? Nothing. Do I really need to fill God in on things? No. What does all my knowledge amount to when placed against the greatness of God? Nothing. Job finally confessed: “…I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know.” (Job 42:3 NRSV). God’s greatness is beyond expression. Our words fail. There is a deep form of praise that is silent.
“But the Lord is in his holy temple; let all the earth keep silence before him!” (Habakkuk 2:20 NRSV).
A PRAYER
Lord God, Let my praise be finally swallowed up in silence, Not because I will the silence but because there are no longer any words that are adequate.
Meet me in the silence. I pray, through Jesus Christ the Lord. Amen.
This passage is from a section of the Gospel of Luke often called “The Sermon on the Plain.” This begins at Luke 6:17 and extends to the end of the chapter. There are many similarities to the Sermon on the Mount in the Gospel of Matthew. This passage in Luke, in particular, has several parallels to passages in the Gospel of Matthew and a parallel to the Gospel of Mark.