I’ve been living in the book of Colossians a fair bit recently, diving in some mornings after coffee with God, and at other odd times during the week. Over and over again, I’ve found myself saying, ‘this is the truth that we need right now – at this anxious, polarized time in history, when it appears that so much all around us is either collapsing (think Egypt, Syria, Greece, the Eurozone), or built on untruths (think every campaign ad about to baptize your sensibilities).
From the moment we wake, the news and sales pitches become a petri dish in which fear, cynicism or “who really cares” isolationism will be born. None of these responses are helpful though, because we’re called to shine as lights in the midst of all this consumerism, and commidification of human souls. Though there are many places in the Bible that can offer hope and an alternative, I’m increasing convinced that Paul’s message to the Colossians is uniquely situated to become a source for grounding, reorienting and recalibrating. Here’s why:
It speaks to the collapse of modernity because it’s written at a time when the earliest shades of modernity were present in the form of the Roman Empire. Expansionism, colonialism, and the unchallenged supremacy of the nation state were all part of life in Colossae. If you were privileged (ie: male, citizen, land owner) you’d enjoy unrestricted peace, prosperity, and safety in exchange for unquestioning loyalty to the powers of the state. Sound familiar?
These days one might substitute, “the global economic machinery” for the state, as consumerism and economic growth appear to reign supreme in every corner of the globe, and our loyalty is manifest through shopping, and consuming. But there’s writing on the wall, warning us that the entire enterprise is unsustainable – environmentally, economically and politically.
It speaks to the despair and cynicism of post-modernity. One of post-modernity’s challenges is the lack of anchor. There is a paralyzing fear of commitment that arises when people believe that nothing is knowable. This creates both relational and ethical dilemmas for post-modern people who are afraid to land; in relationships, in employment, in politic, in sexual ethics. This rootlessness is, to say the least, disconcerting, even for those who’ve chosen it. Is there any way to land, to commit, to drop anchor?
Paul says yes – says that, though Christ’s kingdom has depths that are beyond knowing, because we believe that God has spoken, we’re called to a life giving ethical construct, a way of living that frees us from treating one another as objects, that grounds us in a contentment and security that’s independent of our net worth, or our nation’s GDP, or whatever other metrics we’ve bought into that our world tells us make life meaningful and successful.
Paul’s exhortations regarding sexual, political, and economic ethics are all ripe with meaning for this very moment in history. He offers us, for example, a profound basis for covenant sexual relationships instead of simply crying out for abstinence. This same positivity bleeds through his econ0mic and political ethics as well. As I look at the landscape of our culture this summer, I can see that Paul’s letter is a word for this time and place as much as for any time and place.