The average church is a messy place.
There may be plenty of joy and hope as we sing God’s praises week-by-week but take a cursory glance around any congregation and it’s easy to find those who are lonely, bereaved, stressed or burned-out. Many of our brothers and sisters in Christ face personal ill-health – in body or mind. Quite a few struggle in their marriage, their parenting or their work. Dig a little deeper and it’s not uncommon to find some wrestling with gambling, pornography, eating disorders, self-harm or domestic abuse. And the list doesn’t stop there: around us are those in financial melt-down, those reeling from past involvement with the occult and those living secret lives, too ashamed to let anyone close. People suffer, people sin and none of us escape the pain of this broken world.
Such things feel wrong because they are wrong. Life was never meant to be this way. Back in Genesis 1 and 2 we see humans designed for something far better than the life we now lead. It won’t always be like this. Perfection lies ahead for all who are in Christ. But, for now, we still face hardship and pain. We live with the legacy of the fall. And as we do, we have an important question to ask: how should we relate to those in our churches who are struggling day-by-day?
It’s a question that can leave many of us scratching our heads but it’s one with which Paul’s short letter to the Colossians can help.
A typical mess
The encouraging news is that a messy church is a normal church!
If we feel surrounded by struggling friends, that’s exactly as it should be. The congregation at Colossae (and the one at Laodicea too) brought Paul great delight – the people there had come to Christ, moved from darkness to light, and were renowned for their faith and love (1:4). Little trophies of grace, they were living examples of how the Kingdom of God was spreading out throughout the world.
At the same time, however, they were riddled with pastoral strife. Sexual immorality, evil desires, jealousy, idolatry, slander, anger and lies are just some of the things that Paul highlights in his epistle (3:5-8) And, if the encouragement to forgive one another (3:13) is anything to go by, it seems they were causing each other plenty of pain along the way!
Some of those struggles will have sprung from their sinful hearts but pressure was coming from the outside too. They were being bombarded with hollow philosophy – wayward beliefs – that were threatening to shake their faith in Christ to the very core (2:8). They were facing discouragement in the wake of Paul’s arrest (4:8) and their founding pastor was far away (4:12). Being a Christian in Colossae was no walk in the park!
So how were they encouraged to respond?
A cross-shaped call
When we see people struggling, it can be tempting to run to one of two extremes:
Some of us move away. Whether that’s driven by fear (“I don’t know what to do”), exhaustion (“I can’t take another thing on”), stoicism (“they need to just pull themselves together”) or a conviction that pastoral care is the remit of professionals (“it’s not my job”), some of us try hard not to get involved. Doing so plays into our culture’s individualistic norm: people need to sort out their own mess, it’s not for us to poke in our nose. Such thinking, however, only ever leaves people hurting and alone – suffering goes uncomforted, sin stays lurking in the dark and lives remain unchanged and with little prospect of hope.
For others, the temptation to fix people rears its head. We move towards them but instead of offering love we bring simplistic advice or encourage a to-do list approach to problems that might produce some speedy surface change but never really address the root issues lurking below.
“You just need to stop…” “Try trusting God more…” or “Well, this is what worked for me…” Better than nothing, maybe, but an approach that draws more from law than grace.
Neither stance truly helps those in need. Neither resonates with Scripture’s call.
Paul reminded the Colossians that when lives are going astray, human wisdom isn’t the best place to turn (3:20-23). As children whose lives are hidden with Christ because of Jesus’ death and resurrection (3:1), the far better path was to fix their hearts on the Kingdom to come and let that be their greatest joy as they pursue a lifetime of change within the community of the Church. His instruction to the congregation was that they should – together – move away from ungodly living and – together – move towards becoming a community of love (3:5-14).
That, of course, doesn’t mean there is never anything to learn from the wider world: doctors, therapists, debt counsellors and more have a very valuable role in helping us persevere when life is tough. But it does mean that our most natural port of call in times of trouble should be each other. God’s design for churches is that they should be places where everyone gets spurred on to throw off things like anger, dishonesty and gossip (3:8) and put on compassion, kindness, humility and patience (3:12). Churches are designed to be places where sinful and struggling people can walk alongside each other with their eyes fixed on Jesus – until the day Christ returns or calls us home.
What does that look like in practice?
A community of change
Some fear that such talk of change could easily launch a congregation into introspection or a comfort-seeking stance that quickly loses focus on mission and more. Do Sundays and mid-week groups turn into a mere discussion of how God can help me get through my woes today? Nothing could be further from Paul’s mind – rest assured, he is positing no therapeutic gospel here. What he is encouraging is a community of believers so bowled-over by grace and so rooted in God’s word that they long to apply what God says to each and every part of their lives. He is imagining a bunch of Christians who are so committed to following Christ, persevering in Christ and honouring Christ that they long to see each other growing in every aspect of their being – whatever joys or frustrations are coming their way.
At the heart of this plan lies his instruction to “let the message of Christ dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom” (3:16).
Changing in community is a distinctly Scripture-led path.
Paul knew that teaching and applying the Bible wasn’t just for the evangelists (1:5), nor just for the teachers (1:28) within the church, vital though those ministries undoubtedly are. He was convinced that as we learn from those who lead us week-by-week, and as the Spirit matures our faith (1:9-10) we will be equipped to teach and apply Scripture to each other as we share our lives in practical ways.
Arguably, it works something like this: A pastor preaches a sermon on the sovereignty of God – beautiful exposition, sound doctrine, flow from his lips. Wonderful truths are reinforced when moments later we’re joining in a resounding song praising the King of creation. Mid-week, at our small group, we ask our questions, making sure our understanding is clear and think more specifically (and prayerfully) about how it applies to our lives. Then, later in the week, when having a cuppa with a friend or chatting on our social media of choice, we specifically ask people how they are doing joining the dots of God’s glorious sovereignty and the pain of having no job or their battle with an addiction to porn. When they say, “not so well” – we spend time teasing it out, praying it out, making a list of things neither of us get so we can go and ask someone more experienced how those things fit. This isn’t a specialist counselling role but just two believers being honest with one another and open to applying their head knowledge to their hearts in very precise ways.
If we’re honest, most of us do better at the start of that scenario than we do at the end. It’s easier to listen to a talk than it is to let our brother or sister see our broken lives and allow them to apply God’s word in all its delight and power. But doing so brings beauty and hope. It promotes growth too – a maturity that never arrives if we see doctrine as something to be understood rather than deeply lived and loved.
It can work the other way round too. As we stack chairs at the end of the service and casually chat about the week ahead, we can choose not to let the casual quip about “surviving another week with the spouse” pass. We can ask what’s going on – listen to the pain – and point to the comfort of the Psalms, the hope of the gospel, the strength to persevere found in the epistles and the call to repentance and change in the lives of the Old Testament Kings.
Or, how about reminding those struggling with depression that they are adored by the universe’s Creator? Urging someone indulging in an affair to repentance and faith? Speaking to the person in danger of redundancy about the security they have in Christ? Showing the young parent who’s failed to keep calm with their screaming child, yet again, that their identity is in Jesus not in the behaviour of the toddler-sized tornado at their feet?
Words of encouragement – words of truth – spoken gently, humbly, repeatedly bring great fruit. Doing so may mean bearing with other people (3:13) but it is a profound expression of Christ-like love. If we all get involved, it’s not a burden but a shared joy.
It’s not just about biblical application though, we can pray for each other too. Paul never fought shy of asking people to fall to their knees – he asked them to pray for the spiritual matters of his ministry and life (4:2-4) but also the hurts and practicalities too (4:18).
And there are many things we can do for our brothers and sisters in need: cooking them meals, taking them shopping, offering lifts to church or hospital appointments, being willing to babysit or helping them complete various forms. If there is a physical need – often we can, together, provide what’s required.
A call to action
To make it happen we need to check our hearts. Do we share Paul’s goal to see people “encouraged in heart and united in love” (2:2)? Do we long to follow his lead and “not stop praying” for our brothers and sisters around (1:9)? Are we convinced that as the Spirit works, every situation can be fertile ground for “bearing fruit” and helping others “live a life worthy of the Lord” (1:10)? Are we willing to handle the word of God aright so
no-one around gets taken in by “fine-sounding arguments” (2:4)? Are we eager to love, listen, teach and roll up our sleeves in whatever ways people need?
Maybe more than that, though, we need to be individuals willing to ask for help. Frequently the most useful thing we can do is to model what it is to allow others to help us battle sin or to give people the privilege of pouring words of comfort and reorientation into our lives. If we can show what a delight it is to allow others to spur us on in our faith, if we are willing to be open enough to give people a glimpse of where we are finding it hard to persevere, then others will learn what it is to stand alongside us – and trust us, in return, to stand alongside them.
If we choose to take that path, it won’t always be easy but it will be a privilege beyond compare. After all, what’s more exciting than helping people – in the toughest of times – become delightfully and increasingly mature in Christ (1:29)?