“Finish Well” (Colossians 4:7-18), July 5, 2009

You will not finish well by declaring independence.

Connecticut Compromise

On this July Fourth holiday weekend, I hope you’ve taken some time to give thanks for our country – not only the freedoms we enjoy, but the stability of our government.  Think about what’s happened in the last few weeks in Pakistan, Iran, and Honduras.  It’s rather remarkable that over 233 years, we have witnessed one peaceful transition of power after another, based on the people’s right to choose their executive and legislative officials.

The story of our nation’s founding is often told as a story of movements, influences, wars, or documents – the most important of which are the Articles of Association, the Declaration of Independence, the Articles of Confederation, and the Constitution.  But it is better told as the story of individuals – patriots whose passion for liberty intersected by God’s providence at just the right moment, men and women whose personal stories, political loyalties, and passionate beliefs sometimes clashed, but coalesced sufficiently to produce a remarkable, enduring republic.

Who’s your favorite founding father?

Mine will be no surprise to my family.  It’s Roger Sherman, from whom I am descended.  My father, George Thompson, was the son of Vivian Shute, the daughter of Nellie Haney, the daughter of Janie Sherman, the daughter of Andrew Sherman, the son of Charles Sherman, the son of John Sherman, the son of the Honorable Roger Sherman.  He, by the way, was descended from King Edward I of England – also known as Edward Longshanks.

Roger Sherman was a shoe cobbler, a surveyor, a lawyer, a judge, and a politician.  We’ve always joked in our family that you can pick him out of the picture of the signers of the Declaration of Independence because he’s the ugliest one there.  Other pictures reveal him to be more handsome.  And, more importantly, he’s in the picture – in this famous painting he joins Jefferson, Franklin, Adams, and Livingston in the Committee of Five that wrote the Declaration and are presenting it to the Continental Congress.

Thomas Jefferson said of my ancestor, “That is Mr. Sherman, of Connecticut, a man who never said a foolish thing in his life.” He was a man of deep faith, as were many of his colleagues.  One way their faith influenced our nation’s beginning was that they believed human beings are inherently sinful – that power can corrupt anyone.  So they made the government accountable to the masses, and they also insisted on a balance of power among three branches of government.

They also insisted on a balance of power among large states and small states in the union when they wrote the constitution in 1787.  Roger Sherman was from a small state, Connecticut, which feared its interests would be overshadowed by more populous states such as New York.  He drafted the Connecticut Compromise, or Great Compromise, which created the House of Representatives, where large states do have more power, and the U.S. Senate, where every state is equal and small states collectively have more power than large states.

None of these men could by himself have conceived of a form of government that would bring these colonies together or keep them united for more than two centuries.  They needed each other.  That fact takes us back to the conclusion of Paul’s letter to the Colossians.

Paul’s friends

What we find as we come to the close of this remarkable letter is that Paul did not live alone, act alone, write alone, or think alone.  We rightfully give the Apostle much credit for articulating, establishing, and spreading the Christian faith.  Humanly speaking, without Paul, there would be no Christian church in the world today.

But he had lots of help, lots of friends.  And he names them in this closing to his letter.

Remember that the theme of his letter is that Christ is supreme – preeminent, first place.  One of the reasons Paul could live and teach Christ as supreme is because he surrounded himself with people who sought in their own lives to put Christ first.  Let me introduce you to some of Paul’s friends.

Tychicus, the messenger (Col. 4:7, cp. Acts 20:4; Eph. 6:21; 2 Tim. 4:12; Titus 3:12).  In the days before text messaging, Facebook, e-mail, Fedex, or even the U.S. Postal Service, imagine you have just taken days or weeks to handwrite three letters from prison.

One letter appeals to a Christian friend whose slave has run away.  This offense is punishable by death, but you are asking Philemon to accept his slave back as a brother.  Another letter is a circular letter you want delivered to several churches, one after the other, starting with Ephesus.  It contains what you believe to be some of the best stuff you’ve ever put on paper about God, faith, and the Christian life.  A third letter goes to Colosse, which has been threatened by false teachers who have demoted Christ by their teaching.

These letters are one-of-a-kind.  If they are lost or mishandled, they cannot be restored.  They are not backed up on anyone’s hard drive.  Whom will you trust as the letter carrier?

Someone like Tychicus.  Paul describes him as “a dear brother, a faithful minister, and fellow servant.”  He’s mentioned four other times in the New Testament, and every time he’s in the background.  He’s a mailman, a messenger, an interim pastor, a traveling companion.  He’s never the leader, never the initiator, never the one completely in charge.  He just stays in the background, content to do whatever needs to be done.  Every Paul needs a Tychicus.

Onesimus, the runaway slave (Col. 4:9; Philemon 10), was to accompany Tychicus as he carried the letters.  Consider all the implications here.  Tychicus, this humble servant-type, is traveling not only with these one-of-a-kind parchments, his companion is a fugitive.  Both of them could be apprehended at any point.

Onesimus was probably young, maybe even a teenager.  His name means “useful,” suggesting he was born into slavery.  Some scholars believe he became a bishop in the church at Ephesus early in the second century.  His story is that he ran away from his master Philemon, costing his master time, of course.  But Onesimus also may have stolen from Philemon to finance his flight.

Then he met Paul – perhaps even as a fellow prisoner – and was converted.  Now he’s headed back in Tychicus’ company.  One of the letters is an appeal to Philemon to welcome back Onesimus as a brother, to accept Paul’s offer of payment for whatever he cost Philemon, to forgive Onesimus, and to treat him again as “useful.” 

Fugitive criminals need a lot of time to earn back respect and trust.  Here is a story of transformation Paul has seen up close – and he has enough confidence in God’s grace changing Onesimus that the runaway slave is to join Tychicus not only as a letter carrier but as one who will give an update on Paul.

Aristarchus, fellow martyr (Col. 4:10; Acts 19:29; 20:4; 27:2).  Imagine yourself in one of those mob scenes we’ve seen on TV recently in Iran or Honduras – an excited crowd with a political agenda ready to hurt somebody if necessary.  Imagine being in the middle of that mob – and being one of the people toward whom their anger is directed.

Paul and Aristarchus had shared that experience at Ephesus.  You would think Aristarchus would have found reasons to stay away from Paul after that for his own safety, but the event only bonded them, and now they’re in a Roman jail together.  We don’t know the whole story, but one tradition is that Aristarchus was martyred by Nero along with Paul.  Brothers to the death.

Mark, Mr. Second Chance (Col 4:10; Acts 12:12,25; 13:5,13; 15:37,39; 2 Tim. 4:11; Philemon 24; 1 Peter 5:13).  Also known as John Mark, his is a great story of restoration as well.  He was a companion on Paul’s first missionary journey, but he bailed. 

He wanted to go along the second time, and Paul wouldn’t have it.  Barnabas wanted to give him a second chance, but Acts 15 records the disagreement was so sharp that Paul and Barnabas split up their team.  Barnabas took Mark and Paul added Silas to the team.

Now more than a decade later, Mark not only is with Paul again, but Paul is advocating for him.  “If he comes to you, receive him.”

Justus, the other Jesus (Col. 4:11).  We don’t know a lot more about him.  He’s not mentioned anywhere outside Colossians 4. Like today, baby names rise and wane in popularity.  Naming a Jewish baby “Jesus” was like naming an American baby “Robert” in the 1950s or “Jason” in 1985 or “Michael” in 2009.  (Isn’t it interesting that God chose such a common name for his Son?)  But in the Christian church, Jewish babies named Jesus often took a Roman name to distinguish themselves from the Savior.

Epaphras, the intercessor (Col. 1:7; 4:12; Philemon 23).  You have heard his name before in this sermon series.  He was the founding pastor of the church at Colosse, and apparently he had come to Rome personally to visit Paul and update him – perhaps with some concern – about the situation there.

I love what Paul says about him.  “He is always wrestling in prayer for you, that you may stand firm in all the will of God, mature and fully assured.”  The word “mature” is the Greek teleios, which means adult, complete, having met the goal.  Epaphras prayed that they would finish well. 

I can picture in my mind those jailhouse prayer meetings where Paul, Epaphras, Mark, Aristarchus, Onesimus, and Tychicus bow their heads in a circle and lift up their concerns.  Whenever they pray, Epaphras never fails to mention the church at Colosse – with passion in his heart and in his voice.  He wants them to put Christ first.

As our intern, Chris Van Allsburg, commented for me in some notes on this passage, “Prayer is part of the work of ministry!”  Prayer isn’t a hobby or a distraction.  It is our way of partnering with more than just the voices we can hear and the hands we can hold.  We partner with God in his work.  Epaphras understood that.

Luke, the doctor (Col. 4:14; 2 Tim. 4:11; Philemon 24).  Luke is only mentioned three times by name in the New Testament, but he wrote the Gospel of Luke and the book of Acts.  From those writings we learn more about him.  I told his story last year in my introductory sermon on Luke’s gospel.

Without Colossians 4:14, we would not know Luke was a physician.  It’s also clearly implied here that he was a Gentile – because he is not in the list of those Paul mentions as Jews (4:11).  He was one of Paul’s closest friends and companions – and probably came along to help treat Paul’s many injuries and illnesses (see 2 Corinthians 6:3-10; 12:7-10).

Demas, the deserter (Col. 4:14; Philemon 24; 2 Timothy 4:10).  Here’s a story of Onesimus or Mark in reverse.  At this point in Paul’s life, Demas is with Paul.  But Paul offers no specific commendation of him – nothing like the words of affirmation he has for the others – no “dear brother” or “faithful servant” or “beloved doctor.”  He’s not a “fellow worker” or an intercessor.  He’s just Demas.

It’s probably a case of, “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.”  Because a short time later, Paul wrote that Demas “because he loved this world, has deserted me.”  It’s not just that he deserted – he deserted because he loved this world.  Wouldn’t it be sad to have that phrase as your biblical epitaph?

Archippus, the finisher (Col 4:17; Philemon 2).  Paul says, “Tell Archippus: “See to it that you complete the work you have received in the Lord.”  Who is Archippus?  What was his “work”?  And why did Paul need to single him out for an exhortation like this?

We don’t know.  In Philemon Paul calls him a “fellow soldier,” so he’s another one of Paul’s friends.  He apparently had some assignment that Paul didn’t want him to give up on.  “Finish well,” Paul tells him via this indirect message. That’s all we know.

No solo journey

I wish I knew more about Paul’s friends.   I like them.  But what I like the most is that he had friends.  That even the great apostle surrounded himself with advisors, helpers, colleagues, prayer partners.

I want to finish well the work I have received in the Lord.  Don’t you?  Whatever that work is?  As a husband, a father, a teacher, a pastor, a reformer – whatever it is, I want to finish well.

Paul’s lesson is that if you want to finish well, don’t go it alone.  To put it another way, you will not finish well by declaring independence.

I’m not making a comment about the rightness of the American cause in the revolution of more than two centuries ago.  As the 1776 declaration said, there are times in history where it is “necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands that have connected them with another.”

Unfortunately, we continue to take independence to new levels in ways our forebears never dreamed.  We have found new and creative ways to separate ourselves from the wisdom of those who have gone before.  Linda and I just spent a week in the national biannual meeting of the United Church of Christ which is in many ways a case study for the American spirit of independence applied to religion.  But that’s another story.

Human beings and governments seem to ride the pendulum between tyranny and anarchy – domination and liberty.  Our founding fathers had the wisdom to put into place a system that, in theory at least, gave people the right to make their own choices – but simultaneously limited the power any one individual could exercise.

They learned that because so many of them had been shaped by the thinking of a man named John Calvin.  This next week we celebrate the 500th anniversary of his birth (July 10, 1509), and you will be hearing more about him from me in the coming weeks.

Calvin believed in the absolute sinfulness and depravity of human beings apart from the grace of God.  So he believed in a model society there should always be checks and balances to control human power.  Authority should always be collegial.

But it’s not just about authority.  It’s about life.  Here’s what I want you to take away from this sermon, and from our study of Colossians.  Autonomy (independence) may well be the most deeply and widely held American value.

We insist on the absolute right to go it alone.  Don’t tell me whom to marry.  Don’t even tell me whom to sleep with.  Don’t tell me what to do with my money.  Don’t tell me how to spend my time.  I will make my own decisions about my education and my career.  Don’t try to limit my freedom to say what I want to say, buy a gun, or vote my conscience.  And especially don’t tell me what to believe about God or how to live out my faith.  I do what I want to do.

It’s the American way – insist on the right to absolute personal freedom.  And you know what?  It’s God’s way as well.  I am often humbled and amazed at how much freedom God gives us.

But here’s what he wants us to do with that freedom.  He wants us to recognize that we are not smart enough to finish well on our own.  To put it biblically (and this is Calvin’s point), we are too sinful to finish well.  We will say more about that in the weeks to come.

So in the matter of faith, for example, even though God has made you free to choose faith or disbelief or something in between, what he wants you to do with that freedom is to run toward him – not away.  He wants you to have enough humility to recognize that you can’t figure it out on your own – you need the wisdom of those who have gone before, and especially the wisdom of the Bible.  It is not only time-tested, it is how God took the initiative to reveal himself.

We could multiply the principle in any other area where you want to finish well.  Your first instinct as an American is independence.  Your first instinct as a human is autonomy.  “I can do it myself.” 

Paul teaches us that in order to finish well, we need friends.  Not just acquaintances, but people who have permission to instruct us, correct us, and counsel us.  That’s how we learn what it means for Christ to be supreme.  Amen.