Paul and Colossae: The Gospel That Changes Relationships

 Uniting Heaven and Earth

Christ in Philippians and Colossians 

Lesson 1 - Wednesday

Paul and Colossae: The Gospel That Changes Relationships

Colossae was not one of the great metropolitan centers of the ancient world, yet it became a place where the transforming power of the gospel was clearly displayed. Its story is closely tied to Ephesus, one of the most strategic cities in the Roman province of Asia. Acts tells us that Paul spent an extended period in Ephesus, teaching daily and reasoning persuasively about Christ. As a result, “all who dwelt in Asia heard the word of the Lord Jesus” (Acts 19:10). From Ephesus, the gospel radiated outward along trade routes and personal networks, reaching cities like Colossae, Laodicea, and Hierapolis. Colossae did not need Paul’s physical presence to be deeply shaped by his ministry; the message of Christ arrived through faithful believers who carried it home.

One of those believers was Epaphras. Scripture strongly suggests that Epaphras became a Christian through Paul’s ministry, likely during those Ephesian years. Paul later calls him a “faithful minister of Christ” and acknowledges that he labored earnestly for the believers in Colossae. Epaphras did not merely accept the gospel for himself; he became a shepherd to others, helping establish and nurture the Colossian church. This reminds us that God often uses ordinary people, faithfully taught, to do extraordinary work far beyond the original place of their conversion.

Another important figure connected to Colossae is Philemon. Though Paul writes to him personally, the letter to Philemon is deeply connected to the Colossian church. Philemon was most likely converted at Colossae and hosted a house church there. His faith was known for love and generosity, yet God placed before him a situation that tested how deeply the gospel had reshaped his values and relationships.

That situation centered on Onesimus, a runaway slave who had somehow encountered Paul and been converted to Christ. In his letter, Paul appeals to Philemon with remarkable tenderness and wisdom. In Philemon 15–16, Paul suggests that Onesimus’ separation may have served a greater purpose: that Philemon might receive him back “forever,” no longer merely as a slave, but as a beloved brother in Christ. Colossians 4:9 reinforces this transformation by referring to Onesimus as “a faithful and beloved brother,” placing him on equal spiritual footing with other believers.

Paul gently urges Philemon to pursue reconciliation, forgiveness, and a radically new way of relating to Onesimus. He does not command Philemon outright, though he could have; instead, he appeals to love, conscience, and the shared lordship of Christ. Paul’s approach shows that the gospel works from the inside out. It changes hearts first, then reshapes social structures through transformed relationships.

This raises an honest and difficult question for modern readers. We rightly detest slavery in any form and may wish that Paul had openly condemned the institution. How do we come to terms with what Paul says here? Part of the answer lies in recognizing the historical context. Slavery was deeply embedded in the Roman world, woven into its economy and legal system. A direct call for immediate abolition would likely have been impossible to implement and could have endangered the fragile Christian communities.

Yet Paul does something more profound and ultimately more subversive. By insisting that a slave and a master are brothers in Christ, he undermines the moral foundation of slavery itself. If Onesimus is truly Philemon’s brother, equal before the cross, then the logic of ownership collapses. Christianity planted seeds that would, over time, make slavery morally indefensible.

This long arc becomes even more striking when we consider later Christian history. During slavery in the United States, Ellen G. White specifically instructed Adventists to defy laws that required the return of escaped slaves. In doing so, she recognized that when human laws directly contradict God’s law of love and justice, believers must obey God rather than people. This reflects the same gospel principle found in Paul’s letter: human systems must yield to the higher claims of Christ’s kingdom.

Paul and Colossae remind us that the gospel does not merely change beliefs; it changes how we treat one another. It calls us to see people not through social categories, power structures, or legal definitions, but through the lens of Christ’s redeeming love. Where the gospel truly takes root, reconciliation replaces resentment, brotherhood replaces hierarchy, and love reshapes what once seemed immovable.

Prayer

Gracious Father,
Thank You for the gospel that reached places like Colossae and hearts like Epaphras, Philemon, and Onesimus. Thank You that Your love breaks down barriers and transforms relationships. Help us to see others as You see them—redeemed, valued, and beloved in Christ. Give us wisdom to live faithfully in our own time, courage to stand for justice, and hearts willing to forgive and reconcile. May the power of Your Spirit shape our lives so that the world can see the reality of Your kingdom through us.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Paul in Philippi: From a Vision to a Household of Faith

 Uniting Heaven and Earth

Christ in Philippians and Colossians 

Lesson 1 - Tuesday

Paul in Philippi

Paul’s arrival in Philippi was not accidental. It was the result of divine direction. In Acts 16, Paul experienced a vision in the night of a man from Macedonia pleading, “Come over to Macedonia and help us.” Though Paul had plans of his own, this vision redirected his path. Scripture tells us that he and his companions concluded that God had called them to preach the gospel there. The Holy Spirit was not merely opening doors; He was steering Paul toward a place where the message of Christ would take deep root.

Philippi was an ideal city for the spread of the gospel. As a Roman colony, it was politically important, culturally diverse, and strategically located along a major trade route. Ideas traveled quickly through Philippi, and so did influence. A church established there would not remain isolated. What happened in Philippi could reach far beyond its borders, into the wider Roman world. God often chooses such crossroads for His work—not because they are comfortable, but because they are effective.

When Paul and his companions arrived, they found no synagogue. Instead, they went outside the city gate to a place of prayer by the river. There, they met Lydia, a seller of purple cloth. Purple dye was costly, which suggests Lydia was a woman of means and influence. As Paul spoke, Scripture tells us that “the Lord opened her heart” to respond to the message. This detail matters. Lydia’s conversion was not the result of clever argument or emotional pressure, but the quiet, powerful work of the Holy Spirit. She and her entire household were baptized, becoming among the first Christians in Europe.

Lydia’s story does not end with her baptism. She insisted that Paul and his companions stay in her home. Her hospitality reveals a transformed heart, one eager to support the mission of Christ. Many scholars believe Lydia may have become a key financial supporter of the early church in Philippi. If so, her obedience extended beyond belief into stewardship. God used her resources, her home, and her faith to strengthen a church that would later be known for its generosity and loyalty to Paul.

Yet the Philippian story is not only one of open hearts and new believers. It is also a story of suffering. Paul’s ministry in Philippi led to imprisonment, public beating, and humiliation. This is where Acts 9:16 helps us understand Paul more clearly. When the Lord spoke about Paul’s calling, He said, “I will show him how many things he must suffer for My name’s sake.” Suffering was not a detour from Paul’s mission; it was part of it.

This truth reframes how we read Paul’s life. His trials were not signs of failure or divine displeasure. They were evidence that he was walking directly in God’s will. Paul endured hardship because he understood that God’s power is often displayed most clearly through weakness. The gospel advanced in Philippi not in spite of Paul’s suffering, but through it.

Acts 9:16 also speaks to us. We often expect faithfulness to lead to ease, clarity, or protection from pain. But Scripture reminds us that following Christ may involve struggle, loss, and endurance. Like Paul, we are sometimes called to trust God not only in moments of victory, but in seasons of hardship. Our trials, though painful, may serve purposes we cannot yet see. God can use them to open hearts, strengthen others, and deepen our dependence on Him.

The story of Paul in Philippi assures us that the Holy Spirit leads intentionally, that God prepares people before we ever arrive, and that suffering does not nullify our calling. Whether through a vision in the night, a prayer meeting by a river, or perseverance in chains, God remains at work, advancing His kingdom in ways both quiet and costly.

Prayer

Gracious Father, thank You for leading Your servants by Your Spirit and for working through ordinary people and difficult circumstances to accomplish Your purposes. Help us to trust Your direction even when it disrupts our plans. Give us hearts like Lydia’s, open to Your Word and willing to support Your work. When we face trials, remind us that suffering does not mean You are absent, but that You are still at work. Strengthen our faith, deepen our obedience, and use our lives for the spread of the gospel, wherever You call us. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Paul in Chains: Power Made Perfect in Weakness

 Uniting Heaven and Earth

Christ in Philippians and Colossians 

Lesson 1 - Monday

Paul in Chains

Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 4:7–12 open a window into the inner life of a man who suffered deeply yet remained unshaken. He describes himself and other believers as “earthen vessels” carrying a priceless treasure. The image is deliberate. Clay jars are fragile, easily cracked, and unimpressive. Yet God chooses such vessels so that “the excellence of the power may be of God and not of us” (2 Cor. 4:7). What reveals how Paul endured his trials is this conviction: the strength sustaining him did not come from within himself but from God working through his weakness.

Paul does not deny the reality of suffering. He lists it plainly—afflicted, perplexed, persecuted, struck down. Still, each hardship is paired with hope: not crushed, not in despair, not forsaken, not destroyed. The secret of endurance lies in Paul’s union with Christ. He explains that he is “always carrying about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our body” (2 Cor. 4:10). Paul’s focus is not self-preservation but Christ’s life being revealed through him. Even death-like experiences become channels through which the life of Jesus flows to others.

This reveals the central focus of Paul’s life: the glory of God revealed through Christ, even at personal cost. Paul sees his suffering as meaningful because it serves a greater purpose. “Death is working in us, but life in you” (2 Cor. 4:12). His chains, hardships, and weakness are not wasted; they are the means by which others encounter the power of God. Paul lives with an outward focus, measuring success not by comfort or ease but by faithfulness and spiritual impact.

In 2 Corinthians 6:3–7, Paul expands on how he lived out this calling. He explains that he took great care to put “no obstacle in anyone’s way,” so that the ministry would not be discredited. To “commend ourselves as ministers of God” (2 Cor. 6:4, NKJV) does not mean promoting oneself or seeking approval. It means living in such a way that the authenticity of the gospel is clearly displayed. Paul’s life itself becomes a recommendation letter for the truth of Christ.

Paul lists the spiritual resources that sustained him through overwhelming trials: patience in afflictions, the Holy Spirit, sincere love, truthful speech, and the power of God. These are not human achievements but divine provisions. Endurance is strengthened by God’s Spirit. Integrity is maintained through truth. Love is made possible by grace. Paul also speaks of “the armor of righteousness on the right hand and on the left” (2 Cor. 6:7), reminding us that spiritual battles require spiritual equipment, not worldly tactics.

For both laity and clergy today, Paul’s example offers a clear path. To “commend ourselves as ministers of God” means to live consistently with the message we proclaim. It means responding to hardship with patience, treating others with genuine love, and relying on the Holy Spirit rather than personal strength. Ministry is not limited to those with titles or pulpits; every believer represents Christ in daily life. Faithfulness in quiet obedience, integrity under pressure, and perseverance in suffering all point others to God’s power at work in fragile human lives.

This calling is not easy. It requires dying to self, embracing weakness, and trusting God when circumstances are painful. Yet Paul assures us that this way of life is not empty or futile. “For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory” (2 Cor. 4:17). When our focus shifts from self to Christ, from survival to service, we discover that God’s strength is most visible in our weakness.

Prayer

Gracious Father,
We thank You for the example of Paul, who trusted Your power in the midst of suffering. Help us to remember that we are fragile vessels carrying Your priceless treasure. Teach us to rely on the Holy Spirit, to walk in sincerity and truth, and to endure hardship with patience and love. Whether we serve as laity or clergy, may our lives commend the gospel of Christ and reflect His life within us. Strengthen us when we feel weak, and use even our trials for Your glory. We place our lives in Your hands.
Amen.

Paul, the Prisoner of Jesus Christ: Chains With a Purpose

 Uniting Heaven and Earth

Christ in Philippians and Colossians 

Lesson 1 - Sunday

Paul, the Prisoner of Jesus Christ

When Paul opens Ephesians 3:1 with the words, “For this reason I, Paul, the prisoner of Christ Jesus for you Gentiles,” he makes a striking choice. He is, in very real terms, a prisoner of Rome. Chains bind him. Guards watch him. His freedom is taken away by imperial power. Yet Paul deliberately refuses to define his situation by Rome’s authority. Instead, he names himself “the prisoner of Christ Jesus.” This is not denial; it is perspective. Paul understands that while Rome may hold the keys to his cell, Christ holds the purpose of his life.

This same self-understanding appears in the brief but powerful letter to Philemon. Paul begins by calling himself “Paul, a prisoner of Christ Jesus” (Philemon 1:1). Writing on behalf of Onesimus, a runaway slave who has become a believer, Paul does not appeal from a place of bitterness or defeat. His imprisonment has not narrowed his heart; it has expanded it. Chains have not silenced his ministry; they have refined it. Paul sees his confinement as part of Christ’s larger redemptive work, even using it to model reconciliation, humility, and grace.

Paul reinforces this outlook in Ephesians 6:20, where he describes himself as “an ambassador in chains.” Ambassadors usually move freely, carrying messages between kingdoms. Paul’s paradoxical phrase reminds us that the gospel cannot be chained, even when its messenger is. Though confined, Paul still speaks with authority, courage, and clarity. His chains become a platform, not an obstacle. The message of Christ advances not because Paul is free, but because Christ is sovereign.

The book of Acts gives us concrete scenes that bring this reality to life. In Acts 28:16, we learn that Paul, upon arriving in Rome, was allowed to live by himself with a soldier guarding him. Later, Acts 28:30–31 tells us that Paul lived there two whole years, “proclaiming the kingdom of God and teaching about the Lord Jesus Christ with all boldness and without hindrance.” The irony is unmistakable: Paul is under guard, yet the Word of God moves freely. What appears to be a setback becomes an opportunity for witness to soldiers, officials, and visitors from across the empire.

So what is the significance of how Paul characterizes his imprisonment? Paul teaches us that circumstances do not define calling; Christ does. By naming himself Christ’s prisoner, Paul affirms that nothing happens outside of God’s redemptive purpose. His suffering is not meaningless, nor is it random. It is woven into God’s mission, particularly “for you Gentiles” (Eph. 3:1). Paul’s hardship becomes a means of blessing for others.

This perspective challenges us to ask how we respond to our own tough situations. Whether it is illness, financial strain, broken relationships, opposition, or seasons of waiting, we often define ourselves by what has gone wrong. Paul invites us to reframe our struggles through the lens of God’s calling and presence. In Philippians 1:12–13, Paul writes, “I want you to know, brothers and sisters, that what has happened to me has actually served to advance the gospel.” Instead of asking, “Why is this happening to me?” Paul asks, “How can Christ be made known through this?”

Learning to make the best of difficult situations begins with surrender. In Romans 8:28, Paul assures believers that “all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.” This does not mean all things are good, but that God is actively at work within them. It also requires contentment and trust, something Paul learned over time. From prison, he writes, “I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content” (Philippians 4:11). Contentment is not natural; it is learned through dependence on Christ.

Yet this is not always easy. Pain feels personal. Loss feels unfair. Waiting feels endless. Paul himself acknowledged the weight of suffering, speaking of being “hard pressed on every side” and “persecuted, but not forsaken” (2 Corinthians 4:8–9). The struggle lies in our limited perspective. We see the chains; God sees the purpose. We focus on relief; God focuses on transformation. Choosing faith in hardship requires daily trust that God is present and purposeful, even when circumstances say otherwise.

Paul’s life reminds us that faithfulness is not measured by comfort but by obedience. Even in confinement, Paul writes letters, encourages churches, prays for believers, and proclaims Christ boldly. His example calls us to ask not merely how to escape our trials, but how to honor Christ within them. As Paul himself declared, “For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain” (Philippians 1:21). When Christ is central, even chains lose their power to define us.

Prayer

Lord Jesus,
We come before You mindful of our own struggles, limitations, and seasons of difficulty. Teach us, as You taught Paul, to see our circumstances through the lens of Your sovereignty. When we feel confined, discouraged, or overlooked, remind us that we belong to You and that nothing can separate us from Your purposes. Give us courage to be faithful where we are, wisdom to see opportunities in hardship, and grace to trust You when the path is hard. May our lives, like Paul’s, point others to You—even in chains. We surrender our trials to You and ask that You be glorified in them.
Amen.

Sabbath School Lesson 1: Persecuted but Not Forsaken

 Uniting Heaven and Earth

Christ in Philippians and Colossians

Lesson 1

Persecuted but Not Forsaken

You may use this for presenting and studying the current Sabbath School Lesson.