Audio Transcript

Good Monday morning, and welcome to a new week on the podcast — to a week we are devoting to the theme of knowing and following God’s will. Today we look at the key to it all. Without this key in place, following God’s will will be impossible. Then on Wednesday we look at an example of how one man proceeded with confidence in a real-life decision, knowing he was following God’s will. It’s a great story, and it’s on Wednesday (in APJ 1808). And then we will end this week hearing from a super busy Christian man. How does he prioritize his life when he cannot get everything done? That’s on Friday (in APJ 1809).

So, we start the week talking about the key to knowing and following God’s will. We’ll get there through a Bible question from a listener named Kyle. “Hello, Pastor John! In Colossians 1:9, Paul uses the terms ‘knowledge,’ ‘wisdom,’ and ‘understanding.’ Do these terms each have a different meaning? How do these three words relate to each other in the context of that passage?”

Yes, I think they do have different meanings, and I think there’s a practical usefulness in trying to understand the differences. But it’s good to keep in mind — as I step back and just let myself think about the difficulties of handling words like this — that, the way the human mind works and the way language works, it would be a mistake to think that words like knowledge (or knowing), wisdom, understanding are so precise that they don’t overlap with each other. They do overlap.

Borders Between Words

The borders between words like knowledge and wisdom and understanding are not like walls, not like fences that are real nice and clear and precise, with one field on one side and one field on the other. They’re more like the space where the fresh water of a river flows into the salt sea. You can’t draw a line between fresh water and salt water, but everybody knows there’s a huge difference between fresh water and salt water.

Words that refer to processes of knowing and words that refer to processes of feeling are inevitably more flexible and more imprecise than words that refer to objects, like dog or daffodil or peach. Acts of knowing and feeling are not like a dog or a daffodil or a peach. You can’t see them; you can’t touch them; you can’t hear them; you can’t smell them; you can’t draw them. How would you draw wisdom? How would you draw understanding? You can’t point to them with your finger; they’re a peculiar kind of reality. And so, when language tries to capture them or give expression to that peculiar kind of reality, we have to leave room for some overlap in meaning. So, that’s a preface to how difficult it is sometimes to do what Kyle is asking me to do.

Knowledge, Wisdom, Understanding

Colossians 1:9–10 says,

From the day we heard, we have not ceased to pray for you, asking that you may be filled with the knowledge [that’s the first word, epignōsis in Greek] of his will in all spiritual wisdom [second word, sophia] and understanding [synesis, sometimes translated ‘insight’], so as to walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God [same word, epignōsis].

So, Paul starts by praying that they would be filled with the knowledge of God’s will, and he ends that prayer by praying that they would go on increasing in the knowledge of God himself.

“Knowing God increasingly and knowing God’s will increasingly are part of the same experience of knowing.”

I think in Paul’s mind, knowing God increasingly and knowing God’s will increasingly are part of the same experience of knowing, because to know somebody, when you think about it, is to know what they love, know what they hate, know what they desire, know what they will. That’s what it means to know them.

Knowing Versus Knowing

But to really grasp what Paul means by knowing God, which I think we must do here at the outset, it helps to look at Romans 1:18–23, where Paul talks about people who are outside Christ and yet have some kind of knowing of God. It says,

By their unrighteousness [they] suppress the truth. For what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them. For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So, they are without excuse. For [this is the amazing part] although they knew God, they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him.

It’s an amazing statement: “although they knew God” — every human being outside Christ. So, there is a kind of knowing God that is absolutely useless — indeed, worse than useless. It makes you guilty. It takes away your excuse. This is not the kind of knowing God or knowing his will that Paul is praying for in Colossians 1:9. That’s not what he’s praying for. So, the question is, What’s missing? What’s the difference between the knowing God and knowing his will that he’s praying for and the knowing that will only get you damned?

What’s missing is precisely what Paul is praying for in Colossians 1:9 — namely, that we would come to know God and know his will in or by spiritual wisdom and spiritual understanding. The word spiritual modifies both of those nouns — “spiritual wisdom and spiritual understanding.” The key word is spiritual, which in Paul’s language refers to something that is given by and formed by the Holy Spirit. It’s not just a vague feeling of mysticism or something like that. It’s a Holy Spirit–given, a Holy Spirit–shaped wisdom and understanding.

So, what needs to happen so that the man of Romans 1 knows God — the way Paul is praying for us to know God and his will in Colossians 1:9 — is for the Holy Spirit to take away his blindness to the greatness and the beauty and worth of God. And we can watch this happen in 2 Corinthians 4:6, where Paul says, “God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.” So, the formerly blind man of Romans 1 now sees God as glorious. A few verses earlier, in 2 Corinthians 3:18, Paul had said in describing this very miracle, “This comes from the Lord who is the Spirit.”

So, this miracle of seeing God for what he really is, is what Paul means in Colossians 1:9 by “spiritual insight” or “spiritual understanding.” When the Holy Spirit removes our blindness, we don’t just know God as Romans 1 knows God — disapproving, suppressing. We know him as glorious, as infinitely valuable, as worthy of all our allegiance and trust and love. This is spiritual understanding to know him like that.

Harmonious Wisdom

Now, to stir in the word wisdom — and specifically “spiritual wisdom” — from Colossians 1:9, let’s go back to Romans 1, because Paul does just that; he stirs in the word wisdom.

He’s been describing the unbelieving person as knowing God and yet suppressing that knowledge and failing to thank God and glorify him, and now he describes the same failure in terms of foolishness and pretended wisdom. He says, “They became futile in their thinking, and their foolish hearts were darkened. Claiming to be wise, they became fools.” And then they do something that tells you what wisdom is all about: “[They] exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images resembling mortal man” (Romans 1:21–23).

“Spirit-given understanding of the true worth of God leads to Spirit-given wisdom.”

So, in Paul’s mind, wisdom and foolishness relate not merely to whether we see things clearly, but whether we make choices or experience preferences that fit reality. If the darkened heart is not illumined by spiritual understanding, then the heart will act foolishly and make the absurd exchange of Romans 1:23, trading away God for something he made. That’s foolish. That’s crazy. And that’s what the lack of wisdom does. Spiritual wisdom would never do that. Spirit-given understanding of the true worth of God leads to Spirit-given wisdom in not making absurd choices that involve treating other things as more valuable than God.

Knowledge of His Will

So, in answer to Kyle’s question, one way to describe the difference between spiritual wisdom and spiritual understanding is that spiritual understanding is the work of the Spirit enabling us to see reality (particularly God and his ways, his will) for what they really are — namely, great and beautiful and valuable and wise — while spiritual wisdom is the effect of that spiritual understanding upon the way we evaluate things, the way we experience preferences in our preferring heart, and the way we make choices that accord with (or not), that are in harmony with (or not), reality and are not the result of our former blindness.

So, when Paul prays in Colossians 1:9 that we would be “filled with the knowledge of his will in [or by] all spiritual wisdom and [spiritual] understanding,” he’s asking God to pour out his Holy Spirit upon us, and that more and more the Spirit would remove our blindness and the dimness of our ability to see God for who he really is. Then, as a fruit of that spiritual understanding, we would have spiritual wisdom that experiences preferences and makes choices that are in harmony with reality. And then, when those two are operating the way they should, we will be filled with the knowledge of God’s will for our daily lives.

There seems to be no way out.

She knows such bitter, biting thoughts are wrong, shameful even, but her friend’s comment cut so deeply. Her mind keeps returning to the moment, reliving the wound. She tries, feebly, to turn her thoughts elsewhere, but the offense seems to surround her like a fog. And how do you fight a fog?

He too is well aware that he’s walking down a worthless path. He’s been here before — this thought, leading to that fantasy, producing these seemingly unconquerable desires. Maybe he could have escaped if he had turned around right away, but he feels he has gone too far now. He has plucked and felt the fruit; how can he not now taste it?

No way out. Who hasn’t felt the force of these words in the midst of bitterness, lust, or a thousand other temptations? And who hasn’t succumbed to their dark suggestion? If some lies have slain their thousands, this lie has slain its ten thousands.

Every Temptation Escapable

We are hardly the first to feel trapped, surrounded, hemmed in by the power of sin. Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians suggests they felt the same.

To be fair, the Corinthians had more reason than most to see their temptations as especially intense. Few cities were as inhospitable to holiness as ancient Corinth. Boastful, lustful, idolatrous, vain, Corinthian sin walked every street and stood on every corner. Many in the church apparently felt pressed beyond their powers of endurance; they felt pushed down the hallway of temptation until the only door they could see read sin. There seemed to be no way out.

But there was. Paul, knowing the unique pressures they faced, boldly writes,

No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it. (1 Corinthians 10:13)

Every temptation is escapable — small temptations and big temptations, daytime temptations and nighttime temptations, familiar temptations and foreign temptations, inward temptations and outward temptations. All along the hallway, God builds a doorway of escape — even right next to the doorway of sin. And though the door may become harder to enter the farther we travel down the hallway, it is always open for those who will turn the handle.

The bitter thought can be dispelled; the lustful desire denied. Sin is never inevitable.

Our Way Out

How, then, do we find and take the way of escape? How do we stop in the thick of a tempting thought and open the door God has given? On the one hand, simply believing, bone deep, that every temptation has an escape will take us a long way: those who assume there’s no door will hardly go looking for one; those who do may stir themselves up to search.

But we can also say more. In our passage, Paul offers four doors out of temptation — or, perhaps better, four parts of the one door always available: No temptation is unique. You’re more frail than you think. Escape may be hard. God won’t flee.

No temptation is unique.

Perhaps surprisingly, Paul frames his exhortation with four stories of sin and punishment from Exodus and Numbers (1 Corinthians 10:7–10). Israel’s idolatry, sexual immorality, testing of the Lord, and grumbling, along with the judgment God brought, “were written down for our instruction,” Paul says (1 Corinthians 10:11). Specifically, they were written down to keep us from sin (1 Corinthians 10:6).

How do such stories pave our way of escape? In at least two ways. First, they not only tell us, but show us, that the wages of sin really is death (Romans 6:23). “Twenty-three thousand fell in a single day”; “Some . . . were destroyed by serpents”; “Some . . . were destroyed by the Destroyer” (1 Corinthians 10:8–10). The judgments of God, rightly grasped, cannot help but sober those tempted to follow the same sinful path.

Second, such stories dismiss the lie that our temptations are somehow unique. Sin would have us feel that we live on a spiritual island. Others may struggle with doubt, but not this kind of doubt. Others may battle anger, but not anger this strong. Others may deal with discontentment, but they don’t have reasons like mine. To which Paul says, “No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man” (1 Corinthians 10:13). There is nothing new under sin.

Whatever pressure or pull we feel, saints past and present have felt the same. And God promises to all: there is a way out.

You’re more frail than you think.

Often, we advance farther and farther down temptation’s hallway because we think, at the start, that we won’t. The bitter thought comes, and instead of praying it to death, she indulges it, desperate to replay the scene just once or twice. The image enters his head, and rather than rising from bed or running away, he lingers, thinking he can handle it fine. How easily we wander near forbidden trees, forgetting that those who do so usually trip on the roots.

“One of our best escapes from temptation is a keen sense of our own frailty.”

One of our best escapes from temptation, then, is a keen sense of our own frailty. And so, Paul, after citing the four sins from Israel’s history, writes, “Let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall” (1 Corinthians 10:12). Take heed always, and especially when you think you don’t need to. For the surest way to fall is to presume that you won’t.

Of course, those who do begin down temptation’s hallway can still escape — even at sin’s very threshold. But the humble know that every step forward will make steps backward harder. So they take heed at the very start — asking for help, rehearsing promises, running to prayer, fearing delay.

Escape may be hard.

Beware of imagining, however, that the way of escape will feel easy to take, even at temptation’s start. It often won’t. We might have expected — we might have wished — Paul to write, “With the temptation [God] will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to escape it.” Instead, he writes, “. . . that you may be able to endure it” (1 Corinthians 10:13). Sometimes, taking the way of escape brings immediate relief; other times, it feels like patient, prolonged endurance.

We may find, with Jesus, that saying no to one temptation simply brings another, stronger temptation (Matthew 4:1–11). Or we may find, as God warned Cain, that sin is far more wild than tame, answering not to soft resistance but only to sustained force (Genesis 4:7). We may need to say no and keep saying it. We may need to renounce a thought and then wrench our minds away. We may need to physically kneel or audibly preach the truth to our distorted desires. In whatever case, we will need to endure.

John Owen offers a graphic picture of what resisting sin may require: “Let not that man think he makes any progress in holiness who walks not over the bellies of his lusts” (Works of John Owen, 6:14). Sometimes, taking God’s way of escape feels like trampling desires that don’t want to die.

God won’t flee.

Ultimately, our escape from temptation rests not on our endurance, our caution, or our familiarity with Scripture, but on God’s unfailing faithfulness. “God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability” (1 Corinthians 10:13). The waves of temptation, however high or strong, have a God-decreed shoreline. So, rage and foam as they may, God has pledged his own faithfulness to this assurance: they will not overcome your God-given ability to endure.

“The waves of temptation, however high or strong, have a God-decreed shoreline.”

If we had no faithful God in heaven — if resisting sin rested on our own resources — we would rightly see temptation as beyond our ability to endure. We would rightly roll over and let ourselves be swept away, giving in to the inevitability of it all. But as long as God is faithful (always and forever), no temptation will be too strong, too alluring, too overpowering for his people to escape.

Paul’s assurance of God’s faithfulness recalls the letter’s opening, where he writes, “God is faithful, by whom you were called into the fellowship of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord” (1 Corinthians 1:9). If God has called you into the fellowship of his Son, he will keep you in the fellowship of his Son. However pleasurable, however powerful, however compelling temptation feels, Jesus ultimately will prove more so. His fellowship will out-satisfy the fellowship of sin and out-conquer the force of temptation. He himself will be our escape, and the one to whom we gladly run.

Some of the most significant conversations our family has had took place in a neuro ICU.

Last year, my brother received a cancer diagnosis that laid him in a bed we knew could be his last. I treasure the memory of him holding my hand and reminding me how much he loves me, telling me why he is proud of me, and encouraging me to continue loving God and people with my life. I remember my sister walking away from her own conversation with him in tears because of how much his words meant to her too.

Potentially terminal news, for all its unspeakable sorrow, has a way of prioritizing what we want to say most to those around us while we still have the chance. Some of us will be given time in life’s lingering twilight to relay these crucial messages. But some of us won’t. Death can suddenly snatch away, leaving no opportunity to choose our final words.

So, if today turned out to be our final day on earth, what would we not want left unsaid? If we had our own deathbed moments with those we love, holding their hands and looking into their eyes, what would we want to be sure they knew? And what’s stopping us from speaking those words today while we still have the time?

Affirm Your Love

Given that love is the sum of God’s commandments (Matthew 22:36–40), the greatest of all virtues (1 Corinthians 13:13), and the distinguishing mark of Jesus’s disciples (John 13:35), do the people we love most know how much we do? Do family members know our love for them is more than an obligatory love because they are related to us? Do friends, neighbors, coworkers, and church members know we don’t just appreciate and respect them but love them?

“Some of us will be given time in life’s lingering twilight to relay these crucial messages. But some of us won’t.”

Love isn’t merely a matter of words, of course. By grace, we demonstrate our love for others in deeds and not only in speech as we lay down our lives for their best interests (1 John 3:18; John 15:13; Philippians 2:4). In this way, we imitate God, who proved his love through Christ’s death on our behalf (Romans 5:8). But God has not been slow to communicate his love through the words of Scripture as well (Deuteronomy 7:7–8; Jeremiah 31:3; Malachi 1:2), and we can imitate him by likewise speaking our love — just as Paul often expressed love for fellow Christians and commanded them to do likewise (Romans 16:3–16; 1 Thessalonians 3:12; Philippians 1:8).

If God deemed it worthwhile to repeatedly declare his love for us, those around us may long to hear us speak our love for them too — and not only as a thoughtless instinct, but in deeply sincere moments, perhaps holding their hand, looking them in the eye, and assuring them of what they mean to us, as my brother did for me.

Voice Your Encouragement

God’s love is both broad enough to encompass the world and personal enough to enfold each person he created. He knit us together individually (Psalm 139:13). He sees us uniquely, having equipped each of his people with specific spiritual gifts (1 Corinthians 12:11). He bends low to restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish us (1 Peter 5:10), daily bearing us up (Psalm 68:19), affirming our purpose and value in his kingdom. And he has called us to encourage one another in return (Hebrews 10:25; 1 Thessalonians 5:11).

Have we commended the talents and contributions of those we love with such thoughtful, specific care? Do our mentors know we have applied the wisdom God imparted to us through them to set priorities and make decisions? Have we affirmed the spiritual gifts we perceive to be at work in our friends? Do our siblings realize we have looked to them as godly examples of obedience, humility, or perseverance? Have those we invest in heard us express confidence that God will bring to completion the good work he started in them (Philippians 1:6)?

Everyone we know, in all kinds of circumstances, encounters great troubles. Everyone we know could therefore stand to be encouraged with heartfelt affirmation — not only in a brief moment at the end of our lives, but all along the way. So if we have any words of encouragement for people, let’s speak them (Acts 13:15).

Give (or Request) Your Forgiveness

God works for good what the enemy means for evil, even in death (Genesis 50:20). He does so, in part, by using the brevity of life to expose the futility and triviality of long-held grudges. I have seen diagnoses and critical medical conditions compel people to extend or ask for forgiveness as they realize they should have done so years earlier. Learning from their regrets convicts me to avoid years of unnecessarily delayed reconciliation by extending or requesting that grace today too.

What wrongs have we committed against others for which we’ve never apologized? What guilt do we need to acknowledge for wounds we inflicted by careless words, corrupt motives, or selfish actions? And what healing might be ushered in by finally confessing these sins (James 5:16)?

Likewise, compared to all that God has forgiven us in Christ, and in light of our utter dependence on his mercy as we prepare to stand in judgment before his throne, what right do we have to withhold forgiveness (Colossians 3:13)? Even more severely, how might our own forgiveness be jeopardized by doing so (Matthew 6:15)? If love keeps no record of wrongs, we offer a great proof of love in our forgiveness (1 Corinthians 13:5 NIV).

Impart Important Lessons

Ecclesiastes concludes with the final teaching that our whole duty is to “fear God and keep his commandments” (12:13). Jesus’s Great Commission is especially significant as his final instruction on earth (Matthew 28:18–20). And I eagerly welcome summarizing conclusions of wisdom from those I esteem as they reflect on life lessons and experiences.

These instructions can be powerful in life’s final days, like a fictional character’s final advice in a climactic death scene. But I want these weighty words to be intentionally imparted (and displayed) all throughout my life too.

Do our unbelieving friends and family know that our greatest desires for their lives are God’s greatest desires for their lives? Have we encouraged them to begin with the fear of the Lord as their trusted source of wisdom, even as it contradicts the wisdom of the world? Have we humbly shared lessons learned from our mistakes in hopes that others avoid the same downfalls? Have our children heard (and seen) us prioritize heavenly treasures over temporary earthly rewards with such confidence and joy that they are compelled to do the same?

Thinking through the final advice we would give on our deathbeds may actually reveal the instruction those around us most need to hear and heed today.

Don’t Save It for Later

By God’s grace, my brother is currently doing well and continuing to recover and heal. Also by God’s grace, the timing and circumstances of his sickness allowed opportunities for those conversations throughout his process of treatments, surgeries, and recovery. But as God teaches me to number my days (Psalm 90:12), his wisdom regularly reminds me that my life will vanish as quickly as a vapor (James 4:14), and that I don’t know how much time I have left to speak. I don’t know how much time others have left to listen either.

“Each day, as long as it is called ‘today,’ let’s speak the words that matter most.”

It may be easy to lose sight of this when we are in the vibrancy of life, when those closest to us seem healthy, and when our road ahead seems to stretch as far as we can see. But every time I hear of a grave diagnosis, an unexpected accident, or a sudden loss, I remind myself that death promises no forewarning before making its claims. We are not guaranteed final bedside moments (or even tomorrow) to say what ought to be said.

So each day, as long as it is called “today,” let’s speak the words of love, encouragement, forgiveness, and instruction that matter most (Hebrews 3:13). Let’s not save them for our deathbed.