Audio Transcript

Happy Friday, everyone. We’re back to talk about education. Specifically, how do we pursue education in this world without getting taken captive by the thinking of this world? It’s a question we get often from students navigating higher learning and wanting to do so with discernment, both in non-Christian and in Christian schools. James, one listener, asks it this way: “Hello, Pastor John! I’m a Christian studying philosophy at a secular university. What steps can I take to do as Colossians 2:8 says and avoid being taken ‘captive by philosophy and empty deceit, according to human tradition, according to the elemental spirits of the world, and not according to Christ’?”

And the question comes from Michael, as well: “Hello, Pastor John! I am about to begin my senior year as a philosophy major, and I am currently working on an Honors Thesis on Christian Compatibilism. As I have felt God lead me to study philosophy, and take great delight in what I study, I also recognize that Colossians 2:8 challenges the study of this discipline as a whole. While I esteem the word of God above all else, I also believe that the study of philosophy can be used for the church. The question that I would like to ask is, In your view, what is the role of Christian philosophy, and where should one take care in the pursuit of this discipline? Is it okay to explore possibilities, and things that Scripture does not directly deal with, as long as one does not speak with authority on these issues?” Pastor John, what would you say?

Well, thanks for the question. I was a literature major in college, but I did have a philosophy minor. So, I had enough of a taste to be able to resonate positively — because of my experience at a Christian school — with what they’re saying.

The word philosophy occurs one time in the Bible — namely, in Colossians 2:8, where it says, “See to it that no one takes you captive by philosophy and empty deceit, according to human tradition, according to the elemental [principles] of the world, and not according to Christ.” So, let’s think about this verse for just a moment, and then we’ll step back and think about the larger task of philosophy.

Lovers of Wisdom

The word philosophy, both in English and in Greek, literally means “love [philos] of wisdom [sophia].” It means thinking about the great issues of life: What is ultimate reality? How can you know it? What’s right and wrong? What’s the good life? In and of itself, therefore, one would, I think, be inclined to say, Who could find fault with that — loving wisdom? Well, of course we should love wisdom and pursue it with all our might.

In fact, this book of Colossians is filled with positive references to wisdom:

Paul prays “that you may be filled with the knowledge of his will in all spiritual wisdom” (Colossians 1:9).
Paul says that he teaches “everyone with all wisdom” (Colossians 1:28).
“In Christ are hidden all the treasures of wisdom” (Colossians 2:3).
Paul tells us to “let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom” (Colossians 3:16).
“Walk in wisdom toward outsiders” (Colossians 4:5).

“Treasure Christ’s fullness as the ground and goal and access to all true wisdom.”

My goodness. It seems to me that in view of all that — just in Colossians, I mean, not to mention all the other places in the Bible — it would be a sin not to love wisdom, not to be a philosopher in that sense: a wisdom lover. So, if you just take the word philosophy, “love of wisdom,” by itself it would surely be a good thing.

Taken Captive

But Colossians 2:8 says it’s not a good thing. Why not? Paul says four things about philosophy in Colossians 2:8, and let’s look at them to see what the problem is here.

Empty Deceit

First, he says it is “empty deceit.” Deceit means that it pretends to offer a fullness but is in fact empty. It pretends to be full of what would make the good life and bring us lasting satisfaction and finally get us to eternal happiness — and none of it is real. It proves to be totally empty and leaves us miserable in the end. That’s the first thing he says about this so-called “philosophy” that he’s worried about in Colossae: “empty deceit.”

Human Tradition

Second, it is “according to human tradition”. In other words, it has no true warrant from God. It’s coming out of human heads rather than from God’s mind. It’s mere human thinking, not dependent on God’s thinking. Of course — and this is the really interesting part about philosophy — aspects of human thinking can parallel or overlap with God’s revelation of his own thinking in Scripture and in the world.

But what Paul means is that this teaching doesn’t carry in it any built-in submission to God’s thinking. Therefore, it is fundamentally flawed — not because it may not have some overlap with truth, but because, at its root, it doesn’t care about conforming to God’s truth. And therefore, even in those places where it may parallel some divine truth, it has the aroma of error because it doesn’t love that truth as coming from God and conforming to God and glorifying God. That’s the second thing he says: “human tradition.”

Human Precepts

Third, Paul says this so-called philosophy is “according to the elemental principles of the world.” Now, later in the chapter, Paul explains what he means by “elemental principles.” He says in Colossians 2:20–23,

If with Christ you died to the elemental spirits of the world, why, as if you were still alive in the world, do you submit to regulations [these are, I think, the names of the elemental principles] — “Do not handle, Do not taste, Do not touch” . . . according to human precepts and teachings? These have indeed an appearance of wisdom in promoting self-made religion and asceticism and severity to the body, but they are of no value in stopping the indulgence of the flesh.

“This ascetic rule-keeping, this philosophy, was feeding the sin of pride rather than subduing the power of sin.”

Virtually every philosophy points to a way to live that it considers wise or profitable — the path to greatest meaning, greatest satisfaction. And in the case of this philosophy threatening the church in Colossae, the way to live in this philosophy was summed up in certain ascetic elements and rules — “elemental principles,” they call them — so that through severity to the body one might find a pathway to illumination and to the good life and the approval of angels. And it was backfiring because this ascetic rule-keeping, this philosophy, was feeding the sin of pride rather than subduing the power of sin.

Not According to Christ

And the fourth thing he says about this philosophy is that it is “not according to Christ,” which is the fundamental issue for him. He says in Colossians 2:19, “not holding fast to the Head, from whom” everything is coming.

Redeeming Philosophy

So, let’s step back now and ask, How can the study of philosophy — the history of the love of wisdom as humans have tried to see it — how can this study be made truly profitable rather than a snare like it was at Colossae? And I think the central answer in the book of Colossians is this: If you want to measure all philosophy rightly, and thus profit from what God has revealed — by special revelation in his word and general revelation from the writings of the influential thinkers in history — then

know Jesus Christ as he is pervasively and profoundly revealed in Scripture,
treasure his fullness as the ground and goal and access to all true wisdom, and
live in a way that shows in your life how this wisdom defeats pride and sin and exalts Christ.

I say it that way, with those three criteria of good philosophy — knowing Christ as supreme, treasuring Christ as supreme, showing Christ as supreme in your life — because of these texts in Colossians:

“He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities — all things were created through him and for him” (Colossians 1:15–16). In other words, he is the ground and the goal of everything, all true philosophy.
Be “rooted and built up in him and established in the faith” (Colossians 2:7). All true life flows from him as root and foundation.
Do your thinking “according to Christ” (Colossians 2:8). Let all thought, all affection, all action accord with Christ and all that can be known about Christ.
“[Hold] fast to [Christ as] the Head” — that is, hold fast to him as the all-supplying one (Colossians 2:19). His redemption makes all knowledge and all the enjoyment of all that is good possible for forgiven sinners.
“In [him] are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge” (Colossians 2:3).

All the Treasures of Wisdom

Whatever is valuable in any truth found anywhere is the way it points to Christ. Let me say that again, because that’s a little complex. Whatever is valuable in any truth found anywhere, whatever that value is, is this: it’s the way that truth points to Christ and helps us know him and treasure him and show him. That’s the truth. That’s what’s found in him.

There are very few scholars in the world who are willing and able to pursue wisdom — that is, do philosophy — in this Christ-saturated, Christ-treasuring, Christ-showing, Christ-exalting way. But if you can, if God gives you the grace to do that, do it.

My desire to pray when I’m suffering can swing wildly in a single day — and sometimes within the hour. Through the severe trials in my life — losing a child, having a debilitating disease, losing my marriage — prayer has been both arduous and exhilarating. Exhausting work and energizing delight.

In relentless suffering, I can struggle with prayer. More accurately, I don’t want to pray. When I haven’t seen any change, it can feel pointless to pray. So, I avoid it. Or I pray mindlessly. As my motivation fades, my heart slowly drifts from God. When that happens, I first need to recognize the battle raging inside me. Only then can I admit my wandering heart and cry out, “Help me to want to pray!” After that, I follow the Puritan admonition: “Pray until you pray.” I pray until I’m truly talking to God again.

Other times, I want to pray, but I just can’t do it. Praying feels impossible when I’m overwhelmed by pain. I’m either too exhausted, too numb, or too desperate to focus, and I can only manage to plead, “Help me.” I don’t know what I need, or even how to articulate what I’m feeling. In those moments, I can rely on the Spirit with his groans too deep for words. God knows what I need, and the Spirit will intercede for me (Romans 8:26–27).

“Life with God, even when everything is falling apart, can be a place of joy and abundance.”

Still other times, my prayer life blossoms in suffering. I see God provide for all my needs. I sense his presence and pour out my heart to him throughout the day. I find that life with God, even when everything is falling apart, can be a place of joy and abundance. Such connection with God in the storm has led to exquisite intimacy, a mystical communion I will never forget, not because my circumstances were good, or even changing for the better, but because God felt near.

At a Loss for Words

There are also times when I want to pray, but words escape me. When I don’t know what to ask or say, I borrow the wisdom of others. Many mornings, my prayer time has begun with quotes I’ve pinned to my bulletin board to realign my heart. For example:

Lord, do thou turn me all into love, all my love into obedience, and let my obedience be without interruption. (Jeremy Taylor)

Lord, please lighten my load or strengthen my back. (Puritan prayer)

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. (The Serenity Prayer)

Everything is needful that he sends; nothing can be needful that he withholds. (John Newton)

“God’s provision doesn’t always mirror my requests, yet his grace unfailingly meets me.”

These words have helped me focus as I add to them my own petitions. I might ask for rescue from my trials, wisdom for my decisions, strength for the day ahead. God’s provision doesn’t always mirror my requests, yet his grace unfailingly meets me. When I ask for a changed situation, I often receive a changed heart. When I ask for wisdom, I often have to proceed without clarity. When I ask for strength, I often still feel weak and uncertain. I have had to move forward in faith, trusting that God will provide what I need. Yet it is trusting God with the unknown, not leaning on my own understanding or even knowing where I am going, that has anchored my faith in him.

T.R.U.S.T.

Besides our pressing needs, what else might we pray for in suffering? The acronym T.R.U.S.T. encapsulates what I need in suffering — what we all need — but often neglect to ask for:

Turn me from temptation.
Revive me through your word.
Use this pain for good.
Show me your glory.
Teach me your ways.

Turn me from temptation (Luke 22:40; Luke 11:4).

Jesus encouraged his disciples to pray that they wouldn’t give in to temptation. Heeding his words means praying before we are tempted, which requires that we know what might derail us so we can be on the lookout for it. While each person’s struggle is unique, in suffering I’ve been tempted to

stop talking to God and subtly move away from him,
want certainty more than I want Jesus,
harbor bitterness toward those around me, even God, and
run from pain rather than staying dependent on God in it.

Revive me through your word (Psalm 119:25).

God has restored me countless times through Scripture. I’ve come to the Bible feeling hopeless and weary, unsure of how I can even make it through the day, and he has revived me through it. God has spoken directly to me through his word, giving me exactly what I’ve needed: reassurance when I’m doubting, comfort when I’m crying, peace when I’m panicking.

But first, I need to open the Bible, which in suffering can feel uniquely challenging. I often resist it at first, as I imagine it will taste like cardboard. So I pray for motivation to read, and then I specifically ask God to give me spiritual eyes to see his truth in it (Psalm 119:18). And then, miraculously, the words become sweet (Psalm 19:10).

Use this pain for good (Genesis 50:20; Romans 8:28).

Knowing that my pain has a purpose makes it easier to endure. Even when I can’t understand how God could use it for good, I can be confident that he will. I know that God will never allow me to suffer needlessly, and that he has precisely measured out my trials so that not a single drop of my suffering will be wasted. While these truths are unchanging, my prayer is to glimpse what God is doing through my suffering. I’ve seen God use my pain to draw me closer to him, to comfort others with the comfort I’ve received, to increase my endurance and faith, and more.

Show me your glory (Exodus 33:18–19; 34:6).

Seeing God’s glory means seeing, with the eyes of faith, his indescribable beauty and his invisible attributes. His love and faithfulness. His goodness and compassion. His mercy and grace.

When I ask God to show me his glory, part of that request is to see and experience his love. I don’t want to know just intellectually that he loves me; I want to experience and sense his love in my daily life. God demonstrates his love in myriad ways — this prayer is asking him for spiritual sight to see them.

Finally, when we see God’s glory, we know that he is with us. His presence is unmistakable. And that awareness is our greatest need in suffering.

Teach me your ways (Exodus 33:13; Psalm 25:4–5).

We don’t know the ways of God. His thoughts are so much higher than ours, and nothing can compare to his wisdom. Our perspective is partial and imperfect, while God’s view is unlimited and eternal. So when we ask God to teach us his ways, we’re acknowledging that we don’t know what’s best for us and are relying on the one who does. He alone can prepare us for what lies ahead. We need wisdom for our decisions and direction. Do we act now, or should we wait? Do we need courage or patient acceptance? Do we need lighter loads or stronger backs?

The work of prayer aligns our hearts with God and teaches us to trust him for all our needs. In prayer, we ask God to open our eyes to the realities before us — his presence in our lives, his provision for all our needs, and his purposes in our pain. Our deepest need is to find our rest and fulfillment in God alone, and suffering offers a unique opportunity to do that. And when we do, we learn that God really is enough, and that a life of dependence is a life of unending grace.

Audio Transcript

Happy Friday, everyone. We have a good one for you today, an episode that will answer a question we get all the time. Basically, it’s this: Is our salvation an event, or is our salvation a process? Are we saved in a moment, or are we saved in a series of unfolding events? We need to work that out with open Bibles.

The question comes to us from Andrew, a listener in Jonesboro, Arkansas. “Hello, Pastor John! My brother sends me questions frequently so we can discuss them. The most recent one from him comes from Colossians 1:21–23, where it seems as if Paul is saying that salvation is a process, not an event. The only reason I have an issue with this is because he seems to think this also indicates that the ‘once saved, always saved’ teaching is incorrect, since we aren’t actually once saved but are, more accurately, continually being saved as we continue in the faith. This seems contrary to the many verses that say salvation is by faith, not works. But I still cannot completely reconcile verses such as these in Colossians. What are your thoughts?”

Well, let’s read the text because we need to have the verses right there in front of us so that we can see what the real problem is for so many people. It goes like this:

And you, who once were alienated and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, he has now reconciled in his body of flesh by his death, in order to present you holy and blameless and above reproach before him, if indeed you continue in the faith, stable and steadfast, not shifting from the hope of the gospel that you heard. (Colossians 1:21–23)

Event and Process

I think we need to make the problem worse before we make it better. Andrew says that “it looks like salvation is a process, not an event,” and that this is what creates the problem of the possible loss of salvation. But actually, salvation is an event and is a process.

Salvation — that word salvation and the reality behind it — is the really big, all-encompassing word in Scripture. It includes election, predestination, redemption, propitiation, divine calling, regeneration, reconciliation, forgiveness, adoption, sanctification, and glorification. I mean, it is a big, glorious word. All of those events and processes — some are events and some are processes — are involved in how God saves us forever, and all of them are essential.

“We have been, we are being, and we will be saved.”

So, Paul says in Ephesians 2:8, “You have been saved.” And he says in 1 Corinthians 1:18, “to us who are being saved.” And he says in Romans 13:11, “Salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed.” So, we have been, we are being, and we will be saved — event and process forever.

God’s People Will Persevere

But that’s not what makes this text look like salvation can be lost. What makes it look like salvation can be lost is that big daunting word if in verse 23. “You . . . he has now reconciled in his body of flesh by his death . . . if indeed you continue in the faith, stable and steadfast, not shifting from the hope of the gospel.”

This is what makes so many people think, “Wow, if our present condition of being reconciled and saved and justified and regenerated — if our present condition is contingent, dependent, on our persevering or continuing in faith, then it must be true that we can lose our salvation. Or why else would there be a condition?” Now, that inference, that conclusion from the text is false. That’s not a true inference from this text. But it’s not false because there’s no condition — there really is a condition for perseverance. One must persevere.

The text says we have been reconciled if we continue in the faith. That’s a real condition. If we don’t continue in the faith — that is, if we throw away the faith, renounce Jesus Christ, turn against him and his truth, never repent — we’ll perish. That’s what John says in 1 John 2:19 about those who fall away. Here’s the absolutely crucial thing that he says: “They went out from us, but they were not of us; for if they had been of us, they would have continued with us. But they went out, that it might become plain that they all are not of us.”

Two crucial things are made clear in that text. First, if we don’t persevere in faith, we were never truly of God and of the people of God — never born of God. “They went out, that it might become plain that they all are not of us” — of God, of the new birth. That is, they are not born of God.

Second, if we are born of God, he says, we will persevere. We will. “If they had been of us” — that is, among those who are born of God — “they would have continued with us.” So there’s no thought of losing salvation, no thought of being born again and then being unborn again, being justified and then being unjustified, having eternal life and then it turns out it’s not eternal after all. So the question becomes, How can there be a condition in Colossians 1:23 if you can’t lose your reconciliation? How can Paul say you have been reconciled if you persevere?

Kept Through All Conditions

And the answer is that God uses such warnings to cause his children to persevere, and he secures their perseverance, he guarantees it, by his faithfulness to keep us in the faith. The Bible plainly teaches that all of those who are truly born again will in fact be saved. They will meet the condition.

“All the predestined are called, all the called are justified, all the justified are glorified — no dropouts.”

Consider just three passages. So here’s Romans 8:30. I think this is the most important. “Those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified.” This is an unbroken chain of salvation. All the predestined are called, all the called are justified, all the justified are glorified — no dropouts. Eternal security of God’s predestined ones is a biblical truth.

Here’s 1 Corinthians 1:8–9, to see where it really rests, where that security rests: “[Jesus] will sustain you to the end, guiltless in the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is faithful, by whom you were called into the fellowship of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.” So, the issue is, is God a promise keeper? Is he faithful?

And here’s Philippians 1:6: “I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.” So, what makes us eternally secure in Christ is not that there are no conditions or that salvation is not a process, not a fight to be fought and a race to be run — it is. There are conditions: “If indeed you continue in the faith, stable and steadfast . . .” (Colossians 1:23). What makes us eternally secure is the sovereign, keeping faithfulness of God.

Peter puts it like this in 1 Peter 1:5: “. . . who by God’s power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time.” In other words, God’s power sustains our faith so that we persevere and inherit what has been promised to us. And here’s the way Hebrews 3:14 says it: “We have come to share in Christ, if indeed we hold our original confidence firm to the end.” In other words, perseverance shows that our original union with Christ was real.

And here’s the most beautiful promise of all about God’s keeping his own people:

Now to him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you blameless before the presence of his glory with great joy, to the only God, our Savior, through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, dominion, and authority, before all time and now and forever. Amen. (Jude 24–25)

God Will Keep Us to the End

So, yes, yes, yes, salvation is an event and a process. Salvation is conditional upon perseverance. Nevertheless — and it’s an absolutely glorious nevertheless — it is completely certain for God’s predestined, called, justified, believing children.

Therefore, all the warnings like this one, all the warnings of the New Testament, are to be taken seriously because God uses them to keep his children vigilant in the fight of faith. We are found to be secure by how seriously we take all the promises and all the warnings of Scripture.