Lord of the strong reaction
Commentary
Object:
The New Testament gives us only one peek into Jesus' childhood. The story of his birth is familiar, cherished, and celebrated. The stories from his adult life are at the heart of our faith. But we are struck by the mostly "silent years" that come between the birth narratives and his baptism by John.
Luke is the only one who pierces that veil for us. At the end of Luke 2, the good doctor shares with us one episode from Jesus' childhood. That story is our gospel lection this week, and it tells of the boy Jesus visiting Jerusalem with his parents at the time of the Passover.
We will give attention below to many details from that passage. For now, however, I am struck by two words that emerge from the narrative: "amazed" and "astonished." As Jesus sat among the teachers, "all who heard him were amazed." And "when his parents saw him, they were astonished." While those two words do not necessarily permeate the gospel stories, those attitudes do. So this early episode from Jesus' life establishes a pattern that continues: namely, that he always elicits a strong reaction.
Meanwhile, near the end of this particular episode, Luke characterizes Mary and Joseph's response to Jesus this way: "They did not understand what he said to them." That, too, emerges as a recurring theme and image in Jesus' life and ministry. The crowds and the disciples, the priests and the scribes, the Pharisee and the Sadducees -- all of them at various times are dumbfounded by Jesus' words. They either do not understand or they misunderstand.
And so this single, sample moment from Jesus' childhood becomes for us a microcosm. What we see here we will see again and again. He is amazing. People are astonished. And yet they do not understand.
1 Samuel 2:18-20, 26
This is the part of Samuel's story that goes mostly untold. Our Sunday school curriculums and our lectionary resources can cover only so much of the Bible each year and so not every story gets equal treatment in our churches. When we teach and preach the story of Samuel, therefore, we are more likely to celebrate his birth as a miraculous answer to prayer, his middle-of-the-night calling from God, and his role as king maker in the stories of Saul and David. But this brief glimpse into his childhood is not among our favorites.
It is a sweet scene, to be sure, but a bittersweet one. The earnest and loving mother, Hannah, evidently is able to visit her growing boy only once a year. When she does, she brings along a gift -- a little robe -- always the next size or two up from the previous year. In the scripture's brief report of that simple tradition, we are given a succinct and poignant glimpse into motherly love and the passage of time.
We instinctively grieve over the separation implied, for we suspect that there is no good option in it. Either the little boy is heartbroken each time he has to say good-bye to his mother, whom he sees so rarely, or else he is mostly unaffected precisely because he sees her so rarely. Both potentialities are difficult for us to embrace.
Yet we can see from the viewpoint of history what Hannah and Samuel might only have been able to see by faith. We see the great significance of Samuel's life. We see the divine purpose for this little boy's life.
Perhaps during the recent holiday season we heard Mark Lowry's popular Christmas song "Mary, Did You Know?" Over several verses, the singer reflects on all that Jesus was and did, wondering if the young mother Mary could have possibly imagined any such thing as she held her newborn baby. Hannah's boy is no equal to Mary's, of course, yet we might ask her the same kinds of questions. Hannah, did you know what your boy would be and do?
At a time when "the word of the Lord was rare" (1 Samuel 3:1), the Lord found that he could speak to Samuel. When no one else heard God speak, Samuel did. At a time when the designated spiritual leaders of the land were corrupt, Samuel emerged as the new and better leader in Israel for a generation. Samuel was a judge and military leader. He functioned as both prophet and priest, and he was the pivotal character in Israel having a king. Indeed, while we think of "king" as the highest rank in human terms, Samuel still outranked the kings in Israel, for it was Samuel who anointed them. He was the transitional figure from the era of the judges to the united monarchy. He was the transitional figure from a period of weakness, fear, and spiritual darkness to Israel's golden age. In the end, the fact that two of the Old Testament's history books are named for this man bears witness to his unrivaled place in Israel's history.
Hannah's son is no equal to Mary's son but among all of the human characters in the Old Testament, he has few peers. So, while the poignant scene of a boy separated from his mother makes us sad, the boy was "ministering before the Lord" and growing up to become God's right-hand man in the land. Hannah, did you know?
Colossians 3:12-17
In 1992, Rush Limbaugh wrote a runaway bestseller titled The Way Things Ought to Be. You don't have to like the man or his politics, but you have to like the title. We all have a sense, after all, for the way things ought to be. Whether it is in the arena of national politics, international affairs, or interpersonal relationships, whether it has to do with interior decorating or personal fashion, writing or art, landscaping or graphic design; in one or several areas of life, you and I operate with a strong internal sense for the way things ought to be. And something within us is genuinely troubled when those things are not that way.
In this brief but dense passage from Paul's letter to the Christians in Colossae, we are given a priceless glimpse into Paul's sense of the way things ought to be. Specifically, the way things ought to be in the church. And for us and our people, this glimpse is a treasured resource indeed.
While much teaching in the New Testament is geared toward the individual, the people are addressed collectively here. This is our clue to understanding that the issue is not just the single believer but rather the believers all together. This teaching is for the church, and it shows us the way we ought to be together.
The apostle identifies the people as "God's chosen ones, holy and beloved." Such language reveals the church's tremendous privilege. We are not volunteers, who do God some sort of favor by our occasional service. No, but on the contrary we are to understand ourselves as having been chosen by him. That we are "beloved" indicates the nature of his motive. That we are "holy" indicates the nature of our lives.
The apostle further elaborates on the qualities that are meant to characterize our lives. "Clothe yourselves," he encourages them, followed by a list of lovely virtues. This is a very special wardrobe that we will consider in more detail below. For here, though, we simply note that all of these qualities -- the "holy" mentioned at the beginning, as well as the compassion, kindness, and such that follow -- are all attributes of God. That is the bottom line of all Christian virtue, of course: we are called and commanded to be like him.
That fundamental theme is echoed in the succeeding verses. Paul instructs the Colossians to "forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you." So we see, once again, that he is our starting place. Our endeavor is to be what he is and do what he does. It is most appropriate, therefore, that Paul should return to the "clothe" image once more in order to emphasize the central role of love.
"Clothe," meanwhile, is only the first in a series of instructive verbs. "Bear with," "forgive," "let rule" (the peace of Christ), "let dwell" (the word of Christ), "be" (thankful), "teach," "admonish," "sing," and "do" are all part of this dense passage. These few verses by themselves, you see, have the makings of an entire sermon series. Call it "The Verbs of the Church," and spend some weeks exploring together the things we are called to do together.
Taken all together, these compact instructions from Paul paint us a picture of the way things ought to be: specifically, the way things ought to be in the church. It's not that there are no complaints or grievance here, but there are no grudges or factions. Self-interest gives way to love. All ordinary human discord is replaced by perfect harmony. Gratitude and unity prevail and the word, the peace, and the name of Christ reign supreme.
Luke 2:41-52
When last we saw Mary and Joseph, they were in Jerusalem with their newborn boy. The presentation in the temple is a key part of Luke's account of the Christmas story, which has a somewhat different scope than Matthew's. And now, one episode later, they are back in the temple again with Jesus.
We associate Jesus' birth with Bethlehem and his childhood with Nazareth. Yet Luke concludes the story of his birth in Jerusalem and the only episode that we have from his childhood (compliments of Luke) is also set in Jerusalem, and not Jerusalem only, but specifically the temple in Jerusalem.
The temple in Jerusalem was no doubt central to the family's destination. They were going up "for the festival of the Passover," and so we assume that at some point during their pilgrimage they were all in the temple together. Inasmuch as Luke characterizes this holiday journey being "as usual," we may assume that young Jesus enjoyed a growing familiarity with the temple. In addition to the natural familiarity that evolved from these annual visits, something else had developed within Jesus: a sense that the temple was "my Father's house."
We cannot in so brief a space plumb the depths of the meaning of this lovely phrase. We are naturally struck, though, by the juxtaposed images of homes and parents. Joseph and Mary, you see, had already set out for home when they realized that their boy was not with them. Yet it turns out that their boy already was at home. And though, by human terms, he was not with his parents, he made comfortable reference to a different Father. So rather than returning to his parents' house, young Jesus was drawn instead to his Father's house.
Meanwhile, the compelling image of young Jesus in the temple brings to mind the poignant series of snapshots of Jesus in the temple over the years. First he is a babe in arms, surrounded by the love of his parents and the prophetic affirmations of Simeon and Anna. Then he is there as a boy, evidently feeling and making himself at home. As an adult, we witness his zeal for his Father's house as he strongly cleanses the temple from its perversions and drives out its interlopers. Then, just as he had during the Passover festival twenty years earlier, Jesus makes himself at home in the temple during Holy Week. He teaches there every day and now it is the leaders who are asking him questions. We hear his anguished grief over Jerusalem and sobering predictions about the temple. Finally, while he is some short distance away, we see the curtain in the temple torn in two by his death. Jesus in the temple makes for a compelling photo album indeed.
Meanwhile, there is yet another poignant detail in this episode. We can easily imagine the parents' panic and grief as they sought for their lost boy in the big city of Jerusalem. Every parent knows that five minutes is forever when you don't know where your child is. And Mary and Joseph had to suffer and search for days. Specifically, three days. It is a lovely foreshadowing to see those who love Jesus grieving his absence for three days in Jerusalem before they see him again.
Finally, Luke reports that when the whole episode was over Mary "treasured all these things in her heart." Luke is more attentive to Mary -- and to women in general -- than the other gospel writers, and he offers us this sweet glimpse into her unique experience. He makes a similar observation about her immediately following Jesus' birth and the visit of the shepherds (2:19). It is a study all its own to trace, episode by episode, Mary's experience and the evolution of her understanding.
Application
They say that the opposite of love is not hate; it is indifference. Jesus insists that his followers love him more than anyone else in their lives. And we certainly see ample evidence of how his opponents hate him. But Jesus Christ does not inspire indifference. To know him is to feel strongly about him, one way or the other. Even the mercurial Jerusalem crowds of Holy Week bear strange witness to that truth.
Time and again throughout Jesus' ministry, we observe people being amazed and astonished. He teaches with authority. He casts out demons. He calms storms. He feeds multitudes. He raises the dead. And on every occasion, the people look at one another and scratch their heads. "Who can this be?" they wonder aloud. Even so removed a character as Pontius Pilate is amazed by Jesus in their brief encounter.
Yet "amazed" is not "converted." To be astonished is not to believe. Indeed, to be astonished is not even to understand. If those reactions always went together, then perhaps Jesus would not have declined the frequent requests for a sign (e.g., Matthew 12:38-39). But we see that amazement is as likely to lead to opposition as to discipleship (e.g., Matthew 21:15). So, while the childhood reports of people being amazed and astonished seem promising, they are tempered by the sobering recognition that "they did not understand."
Page through the gospels, story after story, and we see the pattern persisting. The people observe what Jesus does and they hear what Jesus says, and they are rightly amazed. Yet the misunderstanding remains. When he asks who people say that he is, none of the speculation is correct. Even after Peter is able to identify who Jesus really is (Mark 8:29), he is quick to demonstrate that he still doesn't comprehend what it means (v. 33).
The apostle Paul looks toward a better day. He anticipates the moment when "at the name of Jesus every knee should bend" (Philippians 2:10). And he envisions at that time a unanimous and universal recognition "that Jesus Christ is Lord." That day is yet to come and perhaps only then will amazement and understanding be finally and fully joined.
An Alternative Application
Colossians 3:12-17. "The Christian's closet." In the writings of Paul, we are given several peeks into the Christian's closet. The apostle is fond of the image of clothing oneself, which he employs twice in this passage. Additionally, in his letter to the Ephesians, he famously encourages believers to "put on the armor of God" (6:11).
The articles of clothing itemized here seem much gentler than the sword, breastplate, helmet, and such of the aforementioned armor. Yet "compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience" should not be underestimated. They may not be associated with battle, but these are not the stuff that one puts in the delicate cycle. No, no. Rather, for the wear-and-tear of daily life, these qualities need to be as tough and durable as a young boy's jeans.
Paul's word for "clothe," enduo, is utilized many times in the New Testament for the routine act of putting on a garment. But it is also employed in more picturesque ways as well. Jesus tells the disciples, for example, that they are to be "clothed with power from on high" (Luke 24:49). Paul himself uses the word many times as a metaphor, encouraging the believers to clothe themselves with "the armor of light" (Romans 13:12), "the new self" (Ephesians 4:24; Colossians 3:10), and the Lord (Romans 13:14; Galatians 3:27). Furthermore, in his discussion of the resurrection body, he paints a picture of our perishable bodies being clothed with imperishability (1 Corinthians 15:53-54).
Taken all together, then, we have a thorough and challenging picture of the saint's wardrobe. So much that we are to put on and as we see these items clearly, we are struck by the true beauty with which we are to adorn ourselves.
Finally, we focus on the particular outfit that Paul has highlighted here in Colossians 3. "Clothe yourselves," he says, "with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience... Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony." Each word could become its own sermon in a series or its own session in a study.
Perhaps we could identify for our people some different character from scripture who embodies each one. We could encourage our folks individually to identify who, in their own experience, has exemplified each trait for them. And we could meditate together on circumstances in our lives when each item would have been (or would be) just the right article to wear.
Taken together, we observe that they are quintessential Christian virtues, inasmuch as they all describe Christ. We also note that these are not self-interested qualities. In other words, we do not cultivate such attributes in our lives in order to "get ahead." On the contrary, they are virtues that are in the best interest of those around us. And finally, we see that love remains, as always, the central hallmark of any man or woman of God.
Luke is the only one who pierces that veil for us. At the end of Luke 2, the good doctor shares with us one episode from Jesus' childhood. That story is our gospel lection this week, and it tells of the boy Jesus visiting Jerusalem with his parents at the time of the Passover.
We will give attention below to many details from that passage. For now, however, I am struck by two words that emerge from the narrative: "amazed" and "astonished." As Jesus sat among the teachers, "all who heard him were amazed." And "when his parents saw him, they were astonished." While those two words do not necessarily permeate the gospel stories, those attitudes do. So this early episode from Jesus' life establishes a pattern that continues: namely, that he always elicits a strong reaction.
Meanwhile, near the end of this particular episode, Luke characterizes Mary and Joseph's response to Jesus this way: "They did not understand what he said to them." That, too, emerges as a recurring theme and image in Jesus' life and ministry. The crowds and the disciples, the priests and the scribes, the Pharisee and the Sadducees -- all of them at various times are dumbfounded by Jesus' words. They either do not understand or they misunderstand.
And so this single, sample moment from Jesus' childhood becomes for us a microcosm. What we see here we will see again and again. He is amazing. People are astonished. And yet they do not understand.
1 Samuel 2:18-20, 26
This is the part of Samuel's story that goes mostly untold. Our Sunday school curriculums and our lectionary resources can cover only so much of the Bible each year and so not every story gets equal treatment in our churches. When we teach and preach the story of Samuel, therefore, we are more likely to celebrate his birth as a miraculous answer to prayer, his middle-of-the-night calling from God, and his role as king maker in the stories of Saul and David. But this brief glimpse into his childhood is not among our favorites.
It is a sweet scene, to be sure, but a bittersweet one. The earnest and loving mother, Hannah, evidently is able to visit her growing boy only once a year. When she does, she brings along a gift -- a little robe -- always the next size or two up from the previous year. In the scripture's brief report of that simple tradition, we are given a succinct and poignant glimpse into motherly love and the passage of time.
We instinctively grieve over the separation implied, for we suspect that there is no good option in it. Either the little boy is heartbroken each time he has to say good-bye to his mother, whom he sees so rarely, or else he is mostly unaffected precisely because he sees her so rarely. Both potentialities are difficult for us to embrace.
Yet we can see from the viewpoint of history what Hannah and Samuel might only have been able to see by faith. We see the great significance of Samuel's life. We see the divine purpose for this little boy's life.
Perhaps during the recent holiday season we heard Mark Lowry's popular Christmas song "Mary, Did You Know?" Over several verses, the singer reflects on all that Jesus was and did, wondering if the young mother Mary could have possibly imagined any such thing as she held her newborn baby. Hannah's boy is no equal to Mary's, of course, yet we might ask her the same kinds of questions. Hannah, did you know what your boy would be and do?
At a time when "the word of the Lord was rare" (1 Samuel 3:1), the Lord found that he could speak to Samuel. When no one else heard God speak, Samuel did. At a time when the designated spiritual leaders of the land were corrupt, Samuel emerged as the new and better leader in Israel for a generation. Samuel was a judge and military leader. He functioned as both prophet and priest, and he was the pivotal character in Israel having a king. Indeed, while we think of "king" as the highest rank in human terms, Samuel still outranked the kings in Israel, for it was Samuel who anointed them. He was the transitional figure from the era of the judges to the united monarchy. He was the transitional figure from a period of weakness, fear, and spiritual darkness to Israel's golden age. In the end, the fact that two of the Old Testament's history books are named for this man bears witness to his unrivaled place in Israel's history.
Hannah's son is no equal to Mary's son but among all of the human characters in the Old Testament, he has few peers. So, while the poignant scene of a boy separated from his mother makes us sad, the boy was "ministering before the Lord" and growing up to become God's right-hand man in the land. Hannah, did you know?
Colossians 3:12-17
In 1992, Rush Limbaugh wrote a runaway bestseller titled The Way Things Ought to Be. You don't have to like the man or his politics, but you have to like the title. We all have a sense, after all, for the way things ought to be. Whether it is in the arena of national politics, international affairs, or interpersonal relationships, whether it has to do with interior decorating or personal fashion, writing or art, landscaping or graphic design; in one or several areas of life, you and I operate with a strong internal sense for the way things ought to be. And something within us is genuinely troubled when those things are not that way.
In this brief but dense passage from Paul's letter to the Christians in Colossae, we are given a priceless glimpse into Paul's sense of the way things ought to be. Specifically, the way things ought to be in the church. And for us and our people, this glimpse is a treasured resource indeed.
While much teaching in the New Testament is geared toward the individual, the people are addressed collectively here. This is our clue to understanding that the issue is not just the single believer but rather the believers all together. This teaching is for the church, and it shows us the way we ought to be together.
The apostle identifies the people as "God's chosen ones, holy and beloved." Such language reveals the church's tremendous privilege. We are not volunteers, who do God some sort of favor by our occasional service. No, but on the contrary we are to understand ourselves as having been chosen by him. That we are "beloved" indicates the nature of his motive. That we are "holy" indicates the nature of our lives.
The apostle further elaborates on the qualities that are meant to characterize our lives. "Clothe yourselves," he encourages them, followed by a list of lovely virtues. This is a very special wardrobe that we will consider in more detail below. For here, though, we simply note that all of these qualities -- the "holy" mentioned at the beginning, as well as the compassion, kindness, and such that follow -- are all attributes of God. That is the bottom line of all Christian virtue, of course: we are called and commanded to be like him.
That fundamental theme is echoed in the succeeding verses. Paul instructs the Colossians to "forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you." So we see, once again, that he is our starting place. Our endeavor is to be what he is and do what he does. It is most appropriate, therefore, that Paul should return to the "clothe" image once more in order to emphasize the central role of love.
"Clothe," meanwhile, is only the first in a series of instructive verbs. "Bear with," "forgive," "let rule" (the peace of Christ), "let dwell" (the word of Christ), "be" (thankful), "teach," "admonish," "sing," and "do" are all part of this dense passage. These few verses by themselves, you see, have the makings of an entire sermon series. Call it "The Verbs of the Church," and spend some weeks exploring together the things we are called to do together.
Taken all together, these compact instructions from Paul paint us a picture of the way things ought to be: specifically, the way things ought to be in the church. It's not that there are no complaints or grievance here, but there are no grudges or factions. Self-interest gives way to love. All ordinary human discord is replaced by perfect harmony. Gratitude and unity prevail and the word, the peace, and the name of Christ reign supreme.
Luke 2:41-52
When last we saw Mary and Joseph, they were in Jerusalem with their newborn boy. The presentation in the temple is a key part of Luke's account of the Christmas story, which has a somewhat different scope than Matthew's. And now, one episode later, they are back in the temple again with Jesus.
We associate Jesus' birth with Bethlehem and his childhood with Nazareth. Yet Luke concludes the story of his birth in Jerusalem and the only episode that we have from his childhood (compliments of Luke) is also set in Jerusalem, and not Jerusalem only, but specifically the temple in Jerusalem.
The temple in Jerusalem was no doubt central to the family's destination. They were going up "for the festival of the Passover," and so we assume that at some point during their pilgrimage they were all in the temple together. Inasmuch as Luke characterizes this holiday journey being "as usual," we may assume that young Jesus enjoyed a growing familiarity with the temple. In addition to the natural familiarity that evolved from these annual visits, something else had developed within Jesus: a sense that the temple was "my Father's house."
We cannot in so brief a space plumb the depths of the meaning of this lovely phrase. We are naturally struck, though, by the juxtaposed images of homes and parents. Joseph and Mary, you see, had already set out for home when they realized that their boy was not with them. Yet it turns out that their boy already was at home. And though, by human terms, he was not with his parents, he made comfortable reference to a different Father. So rather than returning to his parents' house, young Jesus was drawn instead to his Father's house.
Meanwhile, the compelling image of young Jesus in the temple brings to mind the poignant series of snapshots of Jesus in the temple over the years. First he is a babe in arms, surrounded by the love of his parents and the prophetic affirmations of Simeon and Anna. Then he is there as a boy, evidently feeling and making himself at home. As an adult, we witness his zeal for his Father's house as he strongly cleanses the temple from its perversions and drives out its interlopers. Then, just as he had during the Passover festival twenty years earlier, Jesus makes himself at home in the temple during Holy Week. He teaches there every day and now it is the leaders who are asking him questions. We hear his anguished grief over Jerusalem and sobering predictions about the temple. Finally, while he is some short distance away, we see the curtain in the temple torn in two by his death. Jesus in the temple makes for a compelling photo album indeed.
Meanwhile, there is yet another poignant detail in this episode. We can easily imagine the parents' panic and grief as they sought for their lost boy in the big city of Jerusalem. Every parent knows that five minutes is forever when you don't know where your child is. And Mary and Joseph had to suffer and search for days. Specifically, three days. It is a lovely foreshadowing to see those who love Jesus grieving his absence for three days in Jerusalem before they see him again.
Finally, Luke reports that when the whole episode was over Mary "treasured all these things in her heart." Luke is more attentive to Mary -- and to women in general -- than the other gospel writers, and he offers us this sweet glimpse into her unique experience. He makes a similar observation about her immediately following Jesus' birth and the visit of the shepherds (2:19). It is a study all its own to trace, episode by episode, Mary's experience and the evolution of her understanding.
Application
They say that the opposite of love is not hate; it is indifference. Jesus insists that his followers love him more than anyone else in their lives. And we certainly see ample evidence of how his opponents hate him. But Jesus Christ does not inspire indifference. To know him is to feel strongly about him, one way or the other. Even the mercurial Jerusalem crowds of Holy Week bear strange witness to that truth.
Time and again throughout Jesus' ministry, we observe people being amazed and astonished. He teaches with authority. He casts out demons. He calms storms. He feeds multitudes. He raises the dead. And on every occasion, the people look at one another and scratch their heads. "Who can this be?" they wonder aloud. Even so removed a character as Pontius Pilate is amazed by Jesus in their brief encounter.
Yet "amazed" is not "converted." To be astonished is not to believe. Indeed, to be astonished is not even to understand. If those reactions always went together, then perhaps Jesus would not have declined the frequent requests for a sign (e.g., Matthew 12:38-39). But we see that amazement is as likely to lead to opposition as to discipleship (e.g., Matthew 21:15). So, while the childhood reports of people being amazed and astonished seem promising, they are tempered by the sobering recognition that "they did not understand."
Page through the gospels, story after story, and we see the pattern persisting. The people observe what Jesus does and they hear what Jesus says, and they are rightly amazed. Yet the misunderstanding remains. When he asks who people say that he is, none of the speculation is correct. Even after Peter is able to identify who Jesus really is (Mark 8:29), he is quick to demonstrate that he still doesn't comprehend what it means (v. 33).
The apostle Paul looks toward a better day. He anticipates the moment when "at the name of Jesus every knee should bend" (Philippians 2:10). And he envisions at that time a unanimous and universal recognition "that Jesus Christ is Lord." That day is yet to come and perhaps only then will amazement and understanding be finally and fully joined.
An Alternative Application
Colossians 3:12-17. "The Christian's closet." In the writings of Paul, we are given several peeks into the Christian's closet. The apostle is fond of the image of clothing oneself, which he employs twice in this passage. Additionally, in his letter to the Ephesians, he famously encourages believers to "put on the armor of God" (6:11).
The articles of clothing itemized here seem much gentler than the sword, breastplate, helmet, and such of the aforementioned armor. Yet "compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience" should not be underestimated. They may not be associated with battle, but these are not the stuff that one puts in the delicate cycle. No, no. Rather, for the wear-and-tear of daily life, these qualities need to be as tough and durable as a young boy's jeans.
Paul's word for "clothe," enduo, is utilized many times in the New Testament for the routine act of putting on a garment. But it is also employed in more picturesque ways as well. Jesus tells the disciples, for example, that they are to be "clothed with power from on high" (Luke 24:49). Paul himself uses the word many times as a metaphor, encouraging the believers to clothe themselves with "the armor of light" (Romans 13:12), "the new self" (Ephesians 4:24; Colossians 3:10), and the Lord (Romans 13:14; Galatians 3:27). Furthermore, in his discussion of the resurrection body, he paints a picture of our perishable bodies being clothed with imperishability (1 Corinthians 15:53-54).
Taken all together, then, we have a thorough and challenging picture of the saint's wardrobe. So much that we are to put on and as we see these items clearly, we are struck by the true beauty with which we are to adorn ourselves.
Finally, we focus on the particular outfit that Paul has highlighted here in Colossians 3. "Clothe yourselves," he says, "with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience... Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony." Each word could become its own sermon in a series or its own session in a study.
Perhaps we could identify for our people some different character from scripture who embodies each one. We could encourage our folks individually to identify who, in their own experience, has exemplified each trait for them. And we could meditate together on circumstances in our lives when each item would have been (or would be) just the right article to wear.
Taken together, we observe that they are quintessential Christian virtues, inasmuch as they all describe Christ. We also note that these are not self-interested qualities. In other words, we do not cultivate such attributes in our lives in order to "get ahead." On the contrary, they are virtues that are in the best interest of those around us. And finally, we see that love remains, as always, the central hallmark of any man or woman of God.
