In December of 2021 I began having daily quiet times again, after a hiatus of more than twenty years. I didn’t really have any idea where to start, but one thought that kept coming up in my mind, and that I believe was the Holy Spirit’s message to me was, “remember who you are.” Over the past four years, that thought has continued to guide both my times in Scripture and my prayers, and I am convinced that this one idea has been a turning point in my life.
So, who am I? The short answer is that I’m a son of God. Adopted rather than a natural child, and obviously not the one who is uniquely called the Son of God, but a son nevertheless. And not just a son; I’m also an heir:
For those who are led by the Spirit of God are the children of God. The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by him we cry, “Abba, Father.” The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children. Now if we are children, then we are heirs – heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory (Romans 8:14-17).
Over the past four years I have only begun to scratch the surface of what this means. I don’t expect I’ll ever understand the fullness of it. And the closer I look, the more mind-boggling the whole thing gets:
For in Christ all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form, and in Christ you have been brought to fullness. He is the head over every power and authority. In him you were also circumcised with a circumcision not performed by human hands. Your whole self ruled by the flesh was put off when you were circumcised by Christ, having been buried with him in baptism, in which you were also raised with him through your faith in the working of God, who raised him from the dead (Colossians 2:9-12).
According to this Scripture, which is part of the letter that the Apostle Paul wrote to the church at Colossae, I have already been buried, through baptism, just as Jesus was buried, and then I was raised, along with Jesus, from the dead. Although it appeared only that I was dunked in water, the Scripture says that I died, was buried and rose again. I’m not a theologian, and I’m not going to try to dig deeply into the full theology of baptism, but I have to say that, reading this text, it does not sound to me like Paul considers baptism to be “merely” a symbol, but rather a genuine reality of death and resurrection, spiritual effects that are not visible to earthly eyes, but are no less real. (And if you disagree with my reading of this text, that’s okay. Jesus’ command was to be baptized, not to fully understand baptism.)
There are consequences for having been raised from the dead, in whatever sense we are able to understand it. Just a little later in the same letter, Paul writes:
Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with him in glory (Colossians 3:1-4).
Contrary to what I, and, I think, most of us, naturally assume, living in a way that is worthy of Christ, and that is fully pleasing to God (Colossians 1:10) does not happen by following the rules, but rather by following Jesus. The focus of my obedience needs to be Christ, not on watching myself to see that I’m staying away from sin. To live successfully as a son of God I need to think differently than I naturally would. My mind needs to be transformed and renewed (Romans 12:2). And one of the most profound secrets to living in Christ, I’ve found, is to stop paying attention to where the “line” between acceptable behavior and sin is. If I make it my goal to become more like Jesus, I don’t care where that “line” is, because I already know I’m not going to cross it. Wherever that line might be, if I’m heading toward Jesus I’m going in the exact opposite direction!
And as strange as it sounds, since I have already died, been buried and been raised with Christ, my life, my true life, is not what I’m living in this body right now. In some way that I don’t fully understand, I am already in heaven with Jesus. And this is not an isolated passage; elsewhere in Scripture we read:
But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions – it is by grace you have been saved. And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus (Ephesians 2:4-7).
So I am, already, right now, seated with Christ in the heavenly realm.And when he returns, he will bring me with him, even if I haven’t died yet. Thinking too hard about what this looks like will probably just give me a headache; Paul is limited to using human language to explain concepts that are superhuman. From my point of view, however, I am living in this weak, very far from glorious, body, and I struggle with resisting sin. But God sees me already made perfect, glorified, and ruling God’s kingdom with Jesus, as a co-heir with him.
The question I should be asking, however, is not what this will look like, but how should I live, knowing that this is true? And I think the only real answer is, I should live as if I saw in myself what God sees. In other words, I should live out the truth of the person I already am. It’s an interesting paradox that one of my primary purposes in this life seems to be to learn how to be myself, because God has made me into an entirely new person in Christ (2 Corinthians 5:17), and in my natural self I don’t know how to be that person. But Paul, writing by the Holy Spirit, says in this passage that the way to be myself is to set my heart and mind on “things above,” which most of all means Jesus. Ironically, I learn to be myself by following Jesus, acting like him, speaking like him, and even learning to think like him.
The text in Colossians 3 continues:
Put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature: sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires and greed, which is idolatry. Because of these, the wrath of God is coming. You used to walk in these ways, in the life you once lived. But now you must also rid yourselves of all such things as these: anger, rage, malice, slander, and filthy language from your lips. Do not lie to each other, since you have taken off your old self with its practices and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge in the image of its Creator. Here there is no Gentile or Jew, circumcised or uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave or free, but Christ is all, and is in all (Colossians 3:5-11).
This, then, is what it looks like to live out my identity. My old nature dies. Notice that Paul tells the Colossians that they have (past tense) taken off their old selves and have (past tense) put on their new selves, which are being (present progressive tense) renewed. The first two have already happened, the renewal is ongoing. And that’s the key that I’m in danger of forgetting; living as a son of God is not about turning into a new person; it’s about living in the reality that I’ve already been turned into a new person (2 Corinthians 5:17). In other words, it’s about remembering who I am. Sexual immorality, greed, malice and deceit are part of my old nature. That’s how I used to be wired. But that nature, that wiring, died with Christ, and I was raised with him as a new creation.
I think it’s interesting, at the end of this paragraph, that the immediate consequence of having a new self that is “being renewed in knowledge in the image of its Creator” is the end of division. When I remember who I am, I remember also who my brothers and sisters are. Most obviously, that they are my brothers and sisters. They are the very people whom I ought to love and with whom I ought to be united. It’s nearly a human universal to believe that families should be united. My siblings are my most natural allies. If the world recognizes this, how much more should I, as a child of God, act this way?
And the other part of remembering who my brothers and sisters are is understanding that they are God’s children every bit as much as I am. They are as loved as I am. They are as precious to him as I am. To show contempt or malice toward another believer is to show contempt or malice toward someone who is precious in the sight of God, and ultimately, it is to show contempt or malice toward God himself.
There’s something crucial here that far too many in the church over the centuries have forgotten; unity does not come from doctrinal agreement, but from living out our new nature. We do not love one another because we agree on every point of theology, but because we are all brothers and sisters.
Reading further:
Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity (Colossians 3:12-14).
This is the flip side, the positive part of being “God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved.” Here also my behavior comes from my identity, from remembering who I am. Clothing is the metaphor Paul uses here for compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience, forbearance, forgiveness and love. Basically, all the Christian virtues. Revelation 19:8 uses the same metaphor. Clothing is obviously not part of my natural body, but it’s also not something that I only occasionally have on. Rather, I put on my clothes in the morning and remain dressed all day. People generally don’t see me without clothes. (With the notable exception of my wife, and occasionally a doctor. Metaphors are not intended to be exactly correlated in every detail.)
In the same way, even though these traits Paul lists are not part of my natural self, the people I interact with, and especially my brothers and sisters, should not see me without them. They are the right clothes for a son of God. Notably, the Scripture doesn’t say here that I should change my heart (which I can’t do), but that my behavior should reflect the character of God. Is this hypocrisy? No, I don’t think so. This is not acting one way in public and another in private, but acting always as a son of God should act, even when I don’t feel like it. And my heart is being transformed, even though I’m not the one with the power to do it (2 Corinthians 3:17-18). In the meantime, however, it’s not hypocrisy to act with kindness, humility, patience, and the rest of that list when I don’t feel like it, to do what I know is right even when I don’t want to. It’s simply maturity.
Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. Let the message of Christ dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom through psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts. And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him (Colossians 3:15-17).
So here’s the result of remembering who we are. Peace among brothers and sisters. We’re not just one family, we’re one body. When a body is not at peace with itself, it is sick. It has some sort of autoimmune disease, which can be fatal. The body of Christ won’t die, since our life is kept safe with him, but we can surely make the body sick. And a body that is sick is in no shape to do the work of advancing the kingdom of God.
I don’t want to push this too far. Autoimmune disease was certainly not what Paul was thinking about when he wrote this passage, long before the immune system had been discovered. But hostility between the members of one and the same body would have struck him as just as absurd as it does us. That is not the way bodies are supposed to work! Instead, we must live in peace with one another, express our thanks to God, and sing, as well as speak, God’s truth to one another.
And the mention of singing here is significant, following immediately after the command to teach one another. Worship is part of living in peace. Far from being limited to just a few minutes on Sunday, everything I do should be an act of worship. And the context in which I am to worship is my membership in the body of Christ. Worship is not a solitary act, but a communal one. I can not acceptably worship God if I’m not living in peace with my brothers and sisters. Jesus said so as well:
“Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to them; then come and offer your gift” (Matthew 5:23-24).
Tragically, far too many believers, throughout the entire history of the church, have not acted like they believe this. We in the West have, I think, put far too much emphasis on our individual relationship with Jesus, and far too little on the fact that we are one body. Living in peace, loving one another, is not just a nice addition to my personal salvation; it is the manifestation of God’s kingdom on earth (John 13:34-35, 17:20-23, 1 John 4:12).
It’s not an accident that mutual teaching and joining together in worship are so closely connected. The church is not just a bunch of people who are all traveling in the same direction. My relationship with God is not divorced from my relationships with my brothers and sisters; the vertical and the horizontal are connected. And both come from living out the identity I have in Christ. From remembering who I am.
As I said at the beginning of this article, I’ve only begun to scratch the surface of understanding who I am and living in that reality. And yet, it has already profoundly changed my understanding of what it means to follow Christ. And I am hopeful that:
He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus (Philippians 1:6).