DO YOU CONSIDER yourself to be a Christian? Some prefer not to use that language anymore, because the term “Christian” has become too generic, a “religious preference” to be checked off on a survey rather than a way of life. Even the most nominal of Christians can check a box. For that reason, some substitute the term “Christ-follower.” That way of saying it is a little more cumbersome, but it has the advantage of going beyond mere intellectual agreement or preference to describing a committed way of life. The language is also true to the gospels and Jesus’ own invitation to his disciples: “Follow me.”

Assuming that you would indeed consider yourself to be a Christ-follower, then, here’s the next question. Why do you follow him? Is it out of a sense of gratitude for what he’s done for you? That’s an excellent reason for devotion, and one the apostle Paul himself would support. As he says about God the Father in his letter to the Colossians, “For he has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins” (Col 1:13-14, NIV). What the Father has done in and through Jesus the Son is the reason the Colossians should give “joyful thanks” (vs. 12).

But there’s more to it than that.

In an earlier post, I suggested that we sometimes get the story backwards: we make God into a saving character in our stories instead of understanding ourselves as participating in the narrative of God’s ongoing work of salvation and restoration. If our only reason for following Jesus is because we’re grateful for what he did for us on the cross, we’re missing the larger story, the bigger picture.

Moreover, there are many people to whom we might be grateful; what kind of allegiance do we owe to each, especially when they demand our loyalty in conflicting ways? People who become believers against their parents’ wishes and without their support, for example, have to wrestle with the difficult matter of divided loyalty. Those who continue to follow Jesus don’t do so because by some calculus he did them a bigger favor; rather, they follow him because he is Lord.

If you’re a fan of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, you might think of it this way. There’s a scene in the first Avengers movie, during the Chitauri invasion of New York City, in which Captain America issues orders to one of New York’s finest. “Why should I take orders from you?” the policeman snaps, resentful of this incursion on his authority.

As if on cue, and without a word, Cap single-handedly dispatches three of the monstrous looking aliens as they attack. After a moment of stunned silence, the policeman whirls around and relays Cap’s commands without any further hesitation. He obeys, not out of gratitude for being saved, but because he no longer has any questions about Captain America’s right to command.

Paul, I think, wants to teach the Colossians something similar about Jesus. Having reminded them of their reasons for joyful thanks, Paul adds this:

The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy. For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross. (Col 1:15-20)

These words continue what he began in verses 13 and 14. The New International Version makes verse 15 a new sentence: “The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation.” But those first two words, “the Son,” aren’t there; instead, Paul uses a relative pronoun which can be translated as “who.” Thus, beginning with verse 14, we could read Paul as referring to Jesus as the one “in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins, who is the image of the invisible God,” and so on. It’s all one sentence, all of a piece.

These six verses constitute one of the most exalted descriptions of Jesus in the New Testament. Some take it as a poem or hymn because of the way the passage is structured. It’s possible that Paul was borrowing from a hymn that was already in circulation, but there’s no way to know.

Whatever the source of these words, what matters is the reason Paul includes them in the letter. Again, all he knows of the Colossians is what he’s heard from Epaphras. He’s heard the good news of their faith, hope, and love — but also the bad news, apparently, of their being tempted to follow ideas or philosophies that would conflict with and undermine their newfound faith.

This is what’s known as “the Colossian heresy” — a set of heretical ideas and practices about which we can only make educated guesses. It would be one thing if Paul had made a point-by-point refutation, as Jesus did in the Sermon on the Mount: “You have heard that it was said… But I tell you…” That would have given us more to work with in understanding what the Colossians were being told.

But pastorally, Paul takes a different tack. Instead of saying, “Don’t believe that, believe this instead,” he elevates their existing faith by exalting Jesus above anything or anyone else to which they could give their devotion. It’s as if to say, You already believe in Jesus. Good for you. Now let me tell you more about the one in whom you’ve put your faith and trust. He alone is worthy of your worship, because he is superior to anything or anyone else you might look up to.

It’ll take several posts to unpack what Paul says. For the moment, though, ponder how thankful you are for what Jesus did for you on the cross. Because when you understand what Paul says about him, when you see the bigger picture, that gratitude should be joined by wonder and amazement.