Introduction to Colossians — Commentary and Explanation Study Bible
Some books of the Bible feel loud right away. Big stories, dramatic miracles, fire from heaven, seas opening. Colossians isn’t loud like that. It’s quieter. More like a letter you find folded inside an old book, yellow pages, creases from being opened and closed many times. You don’t rush it. You sit with it. Maybe with tea that’s gone cold already because you forgot to drink it while reading.
That’s how Colossians feels to me.
It’s short. Only four chapters. Easy to underestimate. I’ve done that before, honestly. Thought, “Yeah okay, I know this one. Jesus is supreme. Don’t follow false teaching. Be holy.” But then I read it again, slowly, verse by verse, and it kind of… stayed with me. Like a song that hums in your head even when the radio’s off.
This letter wasn’t written to a famous church like Rome or Corinth. Colossae was small. Not impressive. Kind of forgotten, even in its own time. And yet Paul writes to them with urgency, warmth, and this deep, steady confidence in who Jesus really is. Not the soft, edited Jesus we sometimes carry around. The full one. Cosmic. Lord over everything. Before everything. Holding everything together, even when it feels like it’s all falling apart.
The City of Colossae: Small Place, Big Problems
Colossae was located in Asia Minor, what we’d call modern-day Turkey. It wasn’t the center of power. It wasn’t wealthy or flashy. Nearby cities like Laodicea and Hierapolis were way more important. Colossae had kind of peaked earlier and then slowly faded into the background.
And maybe that’s part of why this letter matters so much. God often speaks most clearly into places that feel overlooked.
The church there wasn’t planted directly by Paul, which surprises some people. It seems Epaphras, a faithful believer and co-worker, carried the gospel to Colossae. Paul hears about their faith while he’s in prison. Not in a quiet study, not free to travel, but locked up. Chains. Walls. Time to think.
Yet the letter doesn’t sound bitter or defeated. If anything, it’s full of confidence and joy. That alone preaches.
But the church had issues. Not the dramatic, headline-grabbing sins. Something more subtle. Dangerous ideas creeping in slowly. Teachings that sounded spiritual, deep, wise. A mix of Jewish law, mystical experiences, angel worship, human traditions, and philosophy. It wasn’t outright denying Jesus. It was adding to Him.
And that’s usually how it goes.
Not “Jesus is wrong,” but “Jesus plus this.”
Jesus plus rules.
Jesus plus secret knowledge.
Jesus plus spiritual experiences.
Paul writes Colossians to say, again and again, in different ways: Jesus is enough. Not mostly enough. Not almost enough. Fully. Completely. Enough.
Paul’s Purpose: Correcting Without Crushing
One thing I notice when I read Colossians is Paul’s tone. He doesn’t come in swinging. He doesn’t start by scolding. He starts with thanksgiving. Prayer. Encouragement. He reminds them who they are before telling them what’s wrong.
That’s pastoral. That’s love.
Paul wants to protect the believers from being carried away by teachings that feel impressive but actually empty. He’s concerned they might drift from the simplicity and power of Christ. Not drift into atheism. Drift into complexity. Into pride. Into trying to earn what was already given.
That hits close to home if I’m honest.
Sometimes faith doesn’t break because of rebellion. It gets tired from trying too hard.
Colossians speaks into that weariness. It pulls our eyes back up to Jesus and says, “Look again. Really look.”
Jesus at the Center of Everything
If Colossians had one heartbeat, one central pulse, it would be this: the supremacy of Christ.
Paul doesn’t describe Jesus as just a teacher or moral example. He goes big. Almost poetic. Jesus is the image of the invisible God. The firstborn over all creation. By Him all things were created. Through Him. For Him. He holds all things together.
That’s not safe language. That’s not small faith.
And it matters because when Jesus shrinks, everything else grows too big. Rules grow heavy. Fear grows louder. Spiritual pressure increases. Anxiety creeps in. But when Christ is seen rightly, everything else falls into place. Or at least, it begins to.
Colossians reminds us that the cross wasn’t just a moment of forgiveness. It was a cosmic event. Reconciliation. Peace made through blood. Things in heaven and things on earth brought back together. That’s massive. And personal, at the same time.
I love that tension. Big theology, personal impact.
A Letter for Believers Who Feel Pulled in Many Directions
The Colossian church was surrounded by voices telling them what real spirituality looked like. Rules about food. Holy days. Circumcision. Mystical visions. Harsh treatment of the body. Angelic mediators. It probably sounded very impressive, very holy.
Paul calls it out gently but firmly. He says these things have an appearance of wisdom, but no real power to change the heart.
That line stings a bit.
Because we still live in a world full of spiritual noise. Everyone has advice. Systems. Formulas. Five steps. Ten rules. If you do this, God will do that. If you don’t, then maybe He won’t.
Colossians cuts through that clutter. It points to a life hidden with Christ. A faith rooted, built up, established. Not flashy. Deep.
It teaches that freedom isn’t found in adding more burdens, but in realizing what’s already been done.
Structure of the Letter (But Not Too Neatly)
If you like outlines, Colossians has a clear flow, though it doesn’t feel mechanical.
Chapter 1 lifts our eyes upward. Who Jesus is. What He’s done. Paul’s prayer. His ministry. The mystery revealed—Christ in you, the hope of glory. That phrase alone could carry someone through a rough season.
Chapter 2 warns against deception. Against hollow philosophy and human tradition. It talks about fullness in Christ, freedom from legalism, and the danger of religious pride.
Chapter 3 turns practical. If this is who Jesus is, and this is what He’s done, then how should we live? Put off the old self. Put on the new. Love. Forgiveness. Peace. It’s earthy. Real. Daily-life stuff.
Chapter 4 closes with encouragement, instructions for prayer and witness, and personal greetings. Names. Relationships. People matter. Faith isn’t abstract.
It feels like a full circle. From heaven to earth to daily life to community.
Why Colossians Still Matters (Maybe More Than Ever)
I think Colossians matters today because it speaks to a church that knows Jesus but risks drifting from Him without realizing it.
We live in an age of information overload. Podcasts. Sermons. Reels. Quotes. Everyone has a take. It’s easy to consume spiritual content and slowly replace devotion with distraction. Knowledge without depth. Passion without grounding.
Colossians gently but firmly says, “Come back to the center.”
Not back to rules. Not back to fear. Back to Christ.
It reminds us that growth doesn’t come from chasing the next spiritual high. It comes from being rooted. Established. Steady. Nourished.
And honestly, sometimes that’s not exciting. But it’s safe. It lasts.
A Personal Note (Because This Letter Feels Personal)
The first time Colossians really hit me was during a season when faith felt heavy. I was trying to do everything right. Read more. Pray harder. Be better. And I was exhausted.
Then I read, “You have been filled in Him.”
Past tense.
Not “you will be,” not “if you try harder.” You have been.
That line sat with me. Followed me around. It softened something inside. Faith felt less like climbing and more like standing on solid ground.
That’s what Colossians does. It steadies you. It reminds you that Christianity isn’t about adding layers of effort but living from a place of fullness already given.
What This Study Will Try to Do
As we move verse by verse through Colossians, the goal isn’t to impress with deep language or heavy theology for its own sake. It’s to listen. To explain. To connect ancient words to modern hearts.
There will be moments of reflection. Some storytelling. Some repetition. Some pauses where we just sit with a verse because rushing past it would miss the point.
This isn’t meant to be perfect or polished. Faith isn’t lived that way anyway. It’s meant to be honest. Thoughtful. Grounded in Scripture but aware of real life, real struggles, real questions.
Colossians doesn’t answer every question. But it answers the most important one again and again: Who is Jesus?
And once that’s clear, everything else slowly finds its place.
So take this letter slowly. Don’t skim. Let it speak. Let it challenge and comfort at the same time. Let it remind you that Christ is not a part of life. He is the center. Holding all things together. Including you, even on the days you don’t feel very held.
That’s where Colossians begins. And it’s a good place to start again.
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