If it’s new, it ain’t true.
This morning I took you to Colossae, a little trade-route town where every religion and philosophy in the world rolled through on a wagon, all of them selling an answer to the same question: what is the meaning of life? Paul wrote that church one letter and fired three colossal warnings that are just as loaded today. Pour a cup of coffee and ride the week with me.
This morning I took you to a little town called Colossae. It sat between Laodicea and Hierapolis on a major trade route, which meant every philosophy and religion in the world came rolling through on a wagon. Paul never started that church and never even visited it. A preacher named Epaphras built it, a Gentile church in a crossroads town, and when the questions got too big for him, he rode all the way to Rome to ask Paul face to face.
Here is what every one of those competing religions and philosophies had in common. They were all trying to answer the same question: what is the meaning of life? Every peddler on that trade route had his own answer for sale.
Paul answers it in one line. God’s mysterious plan is Christ himself, and in him lie hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. Not some of the treasures. All of them. You do not need what the wagon is selling. You need the One who holds the whole treasure chest.
Somewhere today the world will offer you an answer to the big question. Before you take it, ask where it came from. If it did not come from Christ, leave it on the wagon.
The first colossal warning: you must have a good root system. Any rancher can tell you what roots do. They reach. Day and night, out of sight, they reach for water and they reach for feed. The only question about your roots is what they are reaching for. Do yours reach for worldly treasure, or treasure in heaven?
Paul puts it plain: just as you accepted Christ Jesus as your Lord, you must continue to follow him. Belief is the seed. Following is the fruit. A seed that never grows anything was planted and forgotten, and a faith that never follows is the same sad story.
And hear this part of the warning, because Paul means it. If you do not understand this, if your roots never grow down into Christ, you will be a victim of the next warning. Shallow roots are exactly what the next fellow is counting on.
Tonight, ask yourself one question about the day: what did my roots reach for? If the honest answer is worldly treasure, sink them into Christ before your boots hit the floor tomorrow.
The second colossal warning is about what I call Christian seasoning: empty philosophies with just enough Jesus sprinkled on top to make them go down easy. Paul says do not let anyone capture you with them, and that word capture is not gentle. It means kidnap and brainwash. Nobody gets captured on purpose. It happens to folks who were not watching.
The bait is usually a “new” revelation. Somebody had a dream, somebody found a secret, somebody knows something the church never knew for two thousand years. Friend, if it’s new, it ain’t true. And if it’s true, it’s not new. God already told us to stop at the crossroads and ask for the old, godly way, and walk in it (Jeremiah 6:16).
Watch out for the “Bible based” outfit that never opens a Bible. Here is the test that never fails: if it is not focused on Jesus, it is not based on the Bible. Jesus says what he means and means what he says, and you can’t change what he plainly says.
Hold everything you hear this week, every podcast, every post, every pulpit, up against the old, godly way. If it adds a secret to Jesus or subtracts an ounce from him, let it ride on by.
The third colossal warning is legalism, and I want you to meet the Jesus “+” crowd. They believe in Jesus, plus their list. Always adding to what Jesus said. “Can’t drink alcohol.” Can’t do this, must do that, and none of it came out of the Lord’s mouth. Paul says do not let anyone condemn you over what you eat or drink or which days you keep.
Right behind them come the “spiritualists.” Every sentence starts with “God told me...” or “God revealed to me...” Paul saw them in Colossae too, insisting on pious self-denial and bragging about visions, proud minds not connected to Christ, the head of the body.
And beware the joy vampires. Their whole gospel is that to be a Christian you must be miserable. Show me that verse. The rule-makers and the vision-peddlers and the misery merchants all have the same job, and it is sucking the joy out of a faith Jesus meant to be living water.
Name the rule somebody hung on you that Jesus never said. Then read what Jesus actually said and let the joy come back where it belongs.
Put the three warnings side by side and you will see what Paul was guarding. Your roots, your mind, and your joy. Grow a good root system so you cannot be captured. Test every new revelation against the old, godly way. And do not let the Jesus “+” crowd condemn you into misery.
Because here is where the whole chapter has been riding: you have died with Christ, and he has set you free from the spiritual powers of this world. Set free. So why would a free man keep following the rules of the world? Don’t handle, don’t taste, don’t touch. Paul says those rules may look wise, with all their strong devotion and severe discipline, but they provide no help in conquering a person’s evil desires. None.
Rules never changed a heart. Christ does. He holds all the hidden treasures of wisdom and knowledge, and he spent them on setting you free. Sink your roots into him, hold to the old ways, and do not let anybody steal your joy.
If the joy vampires have had hold of you, or your roots have been reaching for the wrong treasure, here is the move. Say something like: “Father, thank you for hiding every treasure of wisdom and knowledge in Christ. Sink my roots down deep into him. Guard me from the empty philosophies, the new revelations, and the rule-makers who would steal my joy. Keep me on the old, godly way, and keep my eyes on Jesus alone. In Jesus' name.” Then get on your horse. You are riding out a free man.
Before you pull your boots off tonight, name the rule-religion you have been packing, the list, the misery, the somebody else’s revelation. Set it down, thank Jesus for the freedom he already paid for, and ride into the week a free man.
The sermon begins at 5:05; the button takes you straight there.