As a writer, I look at what is written in the Bible through
my writer’s eye to understand not just what was said—but how it was said. As an
English professor, I tell my students that the structure of a text matters.
Voice matters. Intention matters. I believe the same is true for the Word of
God.
Reading Colossians felt like reading something layered,
weighty, and intentional.
This book was short—but bold.
It was dense with theology, rich with truth, and
laser-focused on one thing: Christ. This was not a letter about church
drama or personal rebuke. This was a letter about who Jesus is, what
He has done, and what that means for those who follow Him.
Colossians showed me Christ from a New Testament perspective
that was both cosmic and close.
Paul wrote this letter to a church he had not even visited,
but you would not know it by the depth of love in his tone. There was care in
every line. It was the kind of tone that said, “I may not know you personally,
but I know what Christ has done for you.”
From a writer’s perspective, this book was beautiful in its
structure. It started high—lofty, grand, theological. It gave us Christ first.
Not Christ the man walking dusty roads—but Christ the image of the invisible
God, the firstborn of all creation, the One in whom all things
hold together.
That opening section in chapter 1 was poetic. The writing
was worship. The words were stacked like bricks of theology and praise—each
phrase lifting Jesus higher.
And then, Paul brought it close.
He started connecting that cosmic Christ to personal
transformation. The God who created all things is also the One who reconciles
us. The One who holds the universe is the same One who holds our lives
together. That shift in tone from majesty to intimacy was striking.
There was a lot of contrast in this book: death and life,
old and new, earthly and heavenly, legalism and freedom. Paul used these
contrasts like a master writer—pacing the letter with balance. Each comparison
helped me understand what life in Christ actually looks like under the New
Covenant.
One thing I appreciated: Paul did not give surface
instruction. He built a full argument. He explained what we should believe
before he ever told us how to behave. That order was important. He knew that
transformation starts with identity—who Christ is, and who we are in
Him.
The letter also took time to warn against deception—false
teaching, empty philosophy, human traditions. Paul was not vague. He was
protective. His tone here was pastoral. You could feel the urgency between the
lines: “Do not let anyone pull you away from Christ.”
Chapter 3 was the turning point. The practical section.
It was like Paul had taken us all the way up into heaven—and
now, he brought us back down to earth and said: “Now live like it.”
He told us to put off the old. Put on the new. Be kind. Be
patient. Forgive. Love. Let the peace of Christ rule. Let the Word dwell
richly. There was clarity here. Each instruction was anchored in who Christ
is—not in what we can achieve.
From a literary lens, this was a tight letter. There were no
wasted phrases. There were no filler words. It was precise. It was ordered. It
felt like Paul had weighed every word before writing it. And yet, it did not
feel mechanical. It felt alive. The Holy Spirit was clearly the author behind
the author.
My favorite section was chapter 2, verses 13-15:
“He forgave us all our sins, having canceled the charge of
our legal indebtedness… He took it away, nailing it to the cross.”
That section was vivid. As a writer, I saw the image. As a
believer, I felt the release. That was the gospel in motion. That was Christ,
not just as King—but as Savior.
The ending of the letter was soft, filled with names and
greetings. And I love that. Because after all the doctrine, Paul reminded us
that this letter was still about people. The exalted Christ still moves through
community.
Reading Colossians helped me see that Christ is not just
part of the Christian life—He is the Christian life. Every
instruction, every correction, every encouragement—it all came back to Him.
This was a letter of depth and devotion.
A letter of doctrine and direction.
A letter that lifts Christ high—and then invites us to live accordingly.
It was a short book. But it said everything.