Remember My Chains

Prayer is the ground I set this all upon: "Continue steadfastly in prayer, being watchful in it with thanksgiving" (Colossians 4:2). Steadfast, because prayer is not a mood that comes and goes but a labor you return to; watchful, because a drowsy soul lets it slip; thankful, because you are speaking to a Father who has already given you his Son. And then I asked you to pray for me — not that my chains would fall, but "that God may open to us a door for the word, to declare the mystery of Christ, on account of which I am in prison" (Colossians 4:3). See where my heart runs even while I am bound: not to my comfort, but to the door.

That same word must go out through you, and so I turned you toward those still outside: "Walk in wisdom toward outsiders, making the best use of the time. Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt" (Colossians 4:5-6). You who have been raised with Christ are watched by neighbors who have not yet heard. Do not squander the days. Let your words carry grace, and a savor that makes a man thirsty for more — not the flat, tasteless talk of the world, and not the harsh talk that wins an argument and loses a soul. Be ready to answer each person, one at a time, as he is.

Then I did something a lecture never does: I named people. Tychicus, "a beloved brother and faithful minister" (Colossians 4:7). Onesimus, once a runaway, now "our faithful and beloved brother, who is one of you" (Colossians 4:9) — grace rewriting a man before your eyes. Aristarchus in prison with me, Mark whom you are to welcome, Justus — a comfort to me in my confinement. And Epaphras, "always struggling on your behalf in his prayers, that you may stand mature and fully assured in all the will of God" (Colossians 4:12). This is what I mean by steadfast prayer: a man agonizing on his knees for people he loves. Luke stayed. Demas, for now, is here. Archippus is charged to finish what he began: "See that you fulfill the ministry that you have received in the Lord" (Colossians 4:17). The gospel does not float above the earth; it comes to you through named, faithful, ordinary hands.

I took the pen myself for the last line: "I, Paul, write this greeting with my own hand. Remember my chains. Grace be with you" (Colossians 4:18). Remember them — not to pity me, but to know the word came at a cost and is worth it. And with the chains, remember what I close with, because it is the whole of everything I have written you: grace. Grace saved you, grace holds you, grace will bring you home. So today, pray and do not give up; open your mouth for Christ to the one beside you; and thank God for the plain, faithful people he has set around you to help you stand. Grace be with you.