The Deficiency of Deviant Doctrine, Pt 2
Colossians 2:20–23
© Mike Riccardi
Introduction
Asceticism is an unfamiliar concept in our society—at least by that name. In fact, you might not even know what word I used there. Ascetic comes from the Greek word áskesis, which means practice. An ásketes was one who was in training, and so one who had to exercise strict self-discipline in order to prepare for the competition for which he was training. Eventually the term came to be used of monks and hermits, who lived lives of rigorous self-denial in a misguided pursuit of spirituality. These were men and women who deprived themselves of the natural comforts of life, who lived in isolation, in caves, or in the desert, who even treated their own bodies severely, because they believed that the physical flesh was the seat of man’s corruption, and so treating the physical body harshly would subdue that corruption, and would result in greater holiness.
Asceticism has always been a popular idea in the religions of the world. Hindu ascetics would sometimes smear ash all over their bodies, live with no possessions at all, and in some cases would practice tapas. Now, I know, in Southern California, tapas means tasty appetizers. But in Sanskrit, tapas came from the word for “heat,” and refers to burning away the impurities of the soul by holding difficult poses for extremely long periods of time. One group, called the Standing Babas, takes vows not to sit down for over a decade. A man named Amar Bharati is a Hindu ascetic who has been holding his right hand above his head since 1973! You can see pictures of it online; his arm has atrophied, become entirely stiff, and his hand is contorted and unusable.
In Jainism, one group of monks renounces all their possessions, including their clothing, demonstrating complete detachment from the world. In certain situations, they practice what they call Sallekhana, a fasting unto death itself that is thought to eliminate bad karma as they prepare for reincarnation.
Perhaps closer to the situation in Paul’s day, the Greek philosophers practiced various kinds of asceticism. The Stoic philosophers believed that true nobility came from total indifference to pain and pleasure. It’s why even today we describe someone as “stoic” who is emotionally unbothered even in the face of distressing circumstances. They would often wear rough clothes and expose themselves to the extreme cold without being properly clothed as a means of attaining this indifference. The Cynic philosophers believed that happiness came from a renunciation of the world. In fact, the name “cynic,” comes from the Greek word for “dog,” and they earned that nickname because they would live on the streets, beg, and behave like dogs in the street—as they neglected both their hygiene as well as polite social norms. One cynic, Diogenes of Sinope, slept daily in a large jar or barrel, depriving himself even of that comfort.
But asceticism isn’t limited to the false religions of the world. These kind of extreme man-made practices seeped even into professing Christianity—particularly through the practice of monasticism: living as a monk or a nun. The most famous of the so-called “Desert Fathers,” Anthony the Great, regarded as the father of Christian monasticism, lived in isolation in the desert, ate only bread and water once a day (after sunset), fasted even from that, forced himself to do without sleep in order to pray, insisted on not speaking, and often avoided bathing. Another ascetic, Simeon the Stylite, lived for 36 years on top of a pillar near Aleppo, Syria, exposed to the heat, cold, wind, and rain. Others wore garments of animal hair that were intended to irritate the skin, and iron belts that weighed them down.
A group of “Christian” ascetics in the 1300s, known as the Flagellants, would go about in the streets publicly whipping themselves for 33 days at a time, often drawing blood, thinking they could atone for their sins, purify their desires, and even stave off divine punishment—which was particularly relevant living during the Black Plague.
I know that that is extremely foreign, and strange, to think about. It almost sounds like fables from an old storybook—not historical accounts of what has actually taken place throughout the centuries. And asceticism is so foreign to us because our culture has to rank among the most intensely self-indulgent cultures in the history of the world. Our problem is the opposite of asceticism! Our culture says that “each of us finds our meaning by giving expression to our own feelings and desires” (Trueman, 46)—what Carl Trueman calls “expressive individualism.” “I am my feelings. And therefore, in order for me to be my authentic self, I must give unfettered expression to those feelings. And so if I feel like I want to fornicate, and commit adultery, and steep myself in pornography, who are you to tell me I shouldn’t? If I feel like having casual sex and killing the children I conceive in my womb, then “My body my choice!” “If I feel like a woman on the inside, then I am a woman, and if you don’t agree you’re a fascist!” How could our hedonistic, pathologically over-indulgent generation profit at all from a sermon criticizing asceticism?
Well, one, because the history of movements is often the history of swinging the pendulum from one extreme to the other. Our culture will eventually burn out on the unbounded pursuit of its own pleasure by drinking from the moral sewer. But the answer will not be a return to the kind of moralistic asceticism that our moment is reacting against. Self-denial and self-discipline are not the enemy; we could use two heaping scoops of both right now, culturally speaking. But our flesh is so corrupt, and our enemy the devil is so deceitful, that legitimate self-discipline is quickly perverted into a self-atoning asceticism. “The world has gone to hell, and so the only right thing to do is to retreat from the world, live in caves, and deprive ourselves of comforts, so we can be the truly pure ones!” Do you see how quickly the flesh turns that into self-righteousness?
But we also can use a sermon on asceticism because there’s one sense in which the contemporary church is more ascetic than we realize. What’s the problem with all those ascetic practices that we just surveyed? Most fundamentally, it is a form of self-made religion—the invention of the human mind, never commanded by God, that reduces righteousness to the performance of external duties. It makes the religious devotion and personal suffering of man a means of satisfying the wrath of God against sin—a kind of penance, whereby we atone for our sins by enduring a penalty for them. Less severe than hell, to be sure, but still partially atoning for our own sins nonetheless. And that is contrary to the Gospel of grace!
But is that all that different from the way many evangelical Christians respond to their own sin against God? We sin against God, we come to our senses, and we begin to grieve over having offended a God so holy, a God so good, a God so kind to us in His Son. We experience the sorrow that cannot but follow sin. But because we are all natural legalists—because grace is offensive to us who want to believe that we have some righteousness to offer God that might be acceptable to Him—that sorrow can tend to be worldly sorrow. The instinct of godly sorrow is to run to the cross, where the only sufficient atonement for sin has ever been accomplished, with empty hands and tear-soaked eyes: “naked, come to Thee for dress, / helpless, look to Thee for grace.”
But the instinct of worldly sorrow is to try to atone for sin by brooding over it, by feeling so bad for yourself—beating yourself up spiritually—that you try to pay God back for your sins. Have you ever had that inclination to run to Christ for forgiveness for another instance of some besetting sin, only to stop yourself and think, “No, it can’t be that easy. I have to feel worse about this before God will take me back.” That’s a kind of spiritual self-flagellation that fits right in with the most superstitious of ascetics. Dear believer: the Lord Jesus endured all the punishment that was due to every one of your sins, even the sins you’ll commit tomorrow. The sacrifices of God are a genuinely broken spirit and a contrite heart that trusts in the perfection of Christ’s atonement for full and free forgiveness—not the thirty-nine spiritual lashes you inflict upon yourself to show God that you’re really sorry.
You see, worldly sorrow causes you to focus on how terrible of a sinner you are, and how good of an atoner you can be, rather than how gracious of a Savior Jesus is. And so when you’re tempted to treat yourself harshly, to heap shame upon yourself for your sin, to do penance for your sin by feeling badly enough about yourself as a sort of self-atonement, rather than receiving the full and free forgiveness that Jesus earned for you—you have more in common with the ascetics than you think.
And that’s what Paul turns to address at this point, as he brings his confrontation of the false teachers in Colosse to a climax. In verses 16 and 17, he demonstrates the deficiency of Jewish legalism. These ceremonies of the Mosaic Covenant that the false teachers are pressing upon the consciences of the Colossians—they have all been fulfilled in Christ, who was the substance those shadows had always pointed to. And so no one can subject you to the bondage of any religious ceremony that Christ has fulfilled and therefore liberated us from. No law upon your conscience is legitimate that does not flow directly from the law of Christ under the New Covenant.
And then in verse 18, he shows us the deficiency of pagan mysticism—the belief that spiritual truth may be attained by looking within yourself, being directed by your own feelings or intuition or subjective experiences, and then attributing those things to God, so as to justify it and give it authority. And whether that’s visions of angels, an audible word apart from Scripture, or a second-blessing that zaps you to holiness—Paul’s saying, “Don’t let anyone convince you that you need their super-spiritual supplements to Jesus, or that without them you’re some sort of second-class Christian. All that is is false humility, self-made religion, mystical invention, and spiritual arrogance. No, dear people, all spiritual fullness is in Christ alone!”
And that’s where he brings in the contrast between the deficiency of legalism and mysticism and the sufficiency of what I called Christ supremacism: He is the head of the church, verse 19—the source of all spiritual life and vitality for the members of Hs body. And our head is sufficient to supply us with the sustenance and nourishment that we need to grow up into spiritual maturity.
And then, Paul turns from addressing the deficiency of the deviant doctrine of legalism, and the deficiency of the deviant doctrine of mysticism, to the deficiency of the deviant doctrine of asceticism. Let’s read our text for this evening. Colossians chapter 2, verses 20 to 23. “If you have died with Christ to the elementary principles of the world, why, as if you were living in the world, do you submit yourself to decrees, such as, 21‘Do not handle, do not taste, do not touch!’ 22(which all refer to things destined to perish with use)—in accordance with the commandments and teachings of men? 23These are matters which have, to be sure, the appearance of wisdom in self-made religion and self-abasement and severe treatment of the body, but are of no value against fleshly indulgence.”
In these verses, we find four reasons for the deficiency of asceticism—four reasons that Christians should not be captivated by teachers, or even fellow believers, who encourage a kind of ultra-austerity in the Christian life, but rather should seek all their spiritual sustenance in Christ alone.
I. Contradicts Our Death to the World (vv. 20–21)
The first reason for the deficiency of asceticism is, number one, it contradicts our death to the world. Look at verse 20 again: “If you have died with Christ to the elementary principles of the world, why, as if you were living in the world, do you submit yourself to decrees?”
Paul says that Christians have died with Christ. This is a reference to one of the great doctrines of the faith—one of the most precious truths in all of Scripture—the believer’s union with Christ. Christians are so intimately identified with Christ and He with us that Scripture says we are united—that the mystery of the Gospel, chapter 1 verse 27, is “Christ inyou, the hope of glory”; that we are made complete in Him, chapter 2 verse 10. This union of Christ in us and us in Christ is such that all that we are belongs to Him, and all that He is belongs to us.
Christ and His people share a common spiritual life, such that Paul can say in Colossians 3:3 that our “life is hidden with Christ in God,” and in verse 4 that Christ Himself is our life. In Galatians 2:20 he says, “it is no longer [even] I who live but Christ lives in me.” Christ and His people are so united to one another that Paul can’t tell where he ends and Christ begins! In this union, everything that is His is ours, and everything that is ours is His. And every aspect of our salvation comes to us by virtue of our union with Christ. As Paul says in Ephesians 1:3, “every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places” with which we are blessed is “in Christ.” He “chose us in Him before the foundation of the world,” Ephesians 1:4; we are redeemed in Him, Ephesians 1:7; and we are “sealed in Him with the Holy Spirit of promise,” Ephesians 1:13.
And it’s the second of those that Paul grabs onto here in Colossians 2. In Ephesians 1:7 he says, “In Him we have redemption through His blood”—which means, not only that when we believe in Christ we are counted to have been redeemed by Him, but rather that, when Christ shed His blood on the cross, 2,000 years ago on Calvary, we were united to Him as He accomplished our redemption. We are so united to Him that what happens to the head happens to the body.
And therefore, Paul says in verse 20 that we have died with Christ. He repeats it in chapter 3 verse 3: “For you have diedand your life is hidden with Christ in God.” And he says in Romans 6:8: “Now since we have died with Christ…”! And Romans 6:6 says, “our old self was crucified with Him.” The people of Christ are so united to Christ that when He died on the cross, we died to sin and to self in Him. Paul says in 2 Corinthians 5:14, “One died for all, therefore all died.” Christ’s death is our death.
“Were you there when they crucified my Lord?” In a mysterious way that is above our ability to comprehend fully, yes. If you’re a believer, you were there, with Christ on Calvary’s cross, and you died with Him and in Him. “My name is graven on His hands. My name is written on His heart.” Like the high priest of Israel wore the names of the twelve tribes of Israel on his breastplate as he represented them before God in the holy of holies, so also Christ our High Priest took your names upon on His heart as He went to accomplish His great work of atonement, and, by the Father’s reckoning, you were united with Him in His death.
In fact, everything that Christ did to accomplish our salvation, we are said to have done in Him. And not only did we die with Him, but we were also “buried with Him,” as we saw back in chapter 2 verse 12. And not only have we died and been buried with Him; we have been raised from the dead with Him. Chapter 3 verse 1: “Since you have been raised up with Christ.” And more than raised us up, Ephesians 2:6 says He “seated us with Him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus.” His life is our life, His punishment our punishment, His death our death, His resurrection is our resurrection. His righteousness is our righteousness; His ascension and glorification are our ascension and glorification.
And “the death He died,” Romans 6:10, “He died to sin once for all,” which means when we died with Him, we died to sin. And so follow that inference, believer. Romans 6:2: “How shall we who died to sin still live in it?” Feel the power that union with Christ in His death gives in the fight for holiness! Romans 6:11: “Even so consider yourselves to be dead to sin, but alive to God in Christ Jesus.” Think of yourselves this way, Christian! Temptation comes knocking at the door of your heart, and you say, “I can’t let sin reign in my body so that I obey its lusts! I’ve died to this! I’m not alive to this sin! I’m dead to sin, and sin is dead to me! I’m alive to God in my union with Christ! I’ve been raised to walk in newness of life! Get behind me, Satan! Get this sin away from me! Give me my God!”
But notice: it’s not only that we’ve died to sin. That’s not what Paul emphasizes in this passage, though I couldn’t resist commenting on it, because it’s gloriously true. Look at verse 20 again. He says, “You have died with Christ to the elementary principles of the world.” And we saw this somewhat curious phrase, “the elementary principles of the world,” back in chapter 2 verse 8. There, we saw how the term stoicheia refers to the fundamental elements or components of something—like the letters of the alphabet, or the notes on a musical scale. Paul is calling the decrees that the false teachers were calling the Colossians to submit to, rudimentary in comparison to the fullness of Christ that has come in the Gospel.
He makes the same point in Galatians 4, as he discusses how the Law of God kept the children of God “in custody” until faith came. Galatians 4:3: “while we were children, we were held in bondage under the elemental things of the world.” And in verse 9 he says, “But now that you have come to know God, or rather to be known by God, how is it that you turn back again to the weak and worthless elemental things, to which you desire to be enslaved all over again?” You see? These decrees—do not handle, do not taste, do not touch—are elementary in comparison to the fullness that has come in Christ. They had their place in preparing for the substance of the Gospel—just like studying your ABCs is necessary when you’re learning to read, but entirely out of place in graduate school. The ceremonial laws that regulated behavior were part of the old world that has now been fulfilled and superseded in the age of fulfillment.
But Paul says, you have died to that world! You have died to the Law! Galatians 2:19 says, “For through the Law I died to the Law, so that I might live to God”! Romans chapter 7 verse 4: “My brethren, you also were made to die to the Law through the body of Christ, so that you might be joined to another, to Him who was raised from the dead, in order that we might bear fruit for God.” Do you hear that? Your union with Christ in His death means you died to the Law, so that your union with Christ in His resurrection is the means by which you bear the fruit of obedience. We don’t go to the Law for holiness; we go to Christ for holiness, by the Spirit. Romans 7:6: “But now we have been released from the Law, having died to that by which we were bound, so that we serve in newness of the Spirit and not in oldness of the letter.”
Dear Christian: you have died to the elementary principles of that old world, even to the ceremonial aspects of God’s own covenant law with Moses. And so why, as if you were still living in accordance with that old world of laws and ceremonies, do you submit yourself to decrees? Why do you allow yourselves to be placed back under a yoke of bondage, when Christ died to free you from such things? And these decrees—do not handle, do not taste, do not touch—surely they had some sort of overlap with the ceremonial laws of Moses. It’s easy to see how, “Do not taste” could overlap with the laws concerning eating and drinking from verse 16. Perhaps Paul was mocking those who went from, “Don’t taste this unclean food” all the way to, “Don’t even handle it or touch it!” Maybe he was referring to the Old Testament laws concerning touching a dead body or a grave, or handling vessels that had been consecrated to the Lord.
But remember that these false teachers aren’t Judaizers proper. They’re a mix of Judaizing legalism, pagan mysticism, and man-made asceticism. And so these commandments are at least in part not even the commandments of God, but, verse 22: “the commandments of men.” And so it could be that “Do not handle, do not taste, do not touch” had more to do with the man-made traditions of asceticism than any sort of devotion to the Mosaic Law. Their asceticism may have had a Jewish flavor to it, but the substance of it was that holiness was to be obtained by observing these external, man-made traditions.
And so Paul’s saying: “God has delivered you from the ordinances which He Himself had prescribed in His own law. Why would He have abrogated that system only to deliver you to a system of laws devised by men? Dear people: He wouldn’t! Christian holiness—sanctification under the grace of the New Covenant—does not have this fundamental orientation of lists of do’s and don’ts. The fundamental orientation of Christian holiness is Christ Himself! Dead to the law so that you might be joined to Christ, and, united to Him, you’ll bear the fruit of holiness for God!”
And so Christian morality is not all about what you can’t do. “Don’t eat this! Don’t drink that! Don’t wear those! Keep away from them! Don’t be contaminated with that! Withdraw from the world! Deprive yourself of these comforts! Stay within the lines!” So, for example: Christians do care to obey the implications of Deuteronomy 22:5 and 1 Corinthians 11—that it honors God for men to look, and speak, and dress, and act like men, and it honors God for women to look, and speak, and dress, and act like women. And we should come alongside one another gently if a brother or a sister is blurring those lines. But this doesn’t mean that churches should enforce rules about hair lengths, or pants and skirts, or wearing certain colors. We point those people to Christ, that they would behold His beauty in His Word, and learn from Him what it means to be a godly man or woman, and to make those applications in one’s own life.
Similarly, Christians do care to obey Scripture’s commandments concerning modesty—for both men and women. And we should come alongside a brother or a sister if they are falling short in that area and bring them gracious correction. But that doesn’t mean that we should publish a list of laws about necklines and hemlines and those kinds of specifics. We point our brothers and sisters to Christ, to behold the glory of His holiness, to be transformed by beholding Him, so that they long to be holy and pure like He is, and lovingly surrender even the way that they present themselves in their dress to His Lordship.
And we could go on. Diet, drink, movies, music, entertainment, dancing, standard of living: Christ is our pattern, not lists. Christ is our Head, who nourishes and supplies the grace by which His body grows in holiness.
II. Concerns what is Destined to Perish (v. 22a)
And so, the first reason that we reject the deficiency of asceticism is because asceticism contradicts our death to the world. A second reason to reject asceticism is, number two, that asceticism concerns what is destined to perish. That comes in the first part of verse 22: “Why do you submit yourself to decrees, such as, ‘Do not handle, do not taste, do not touch!’ (which all refer to things destined to perish with use)?”
These matters that the false teachers are so concerned to regulate—the things that they make Christian holiness and spirituality to consist in—clothing, food, and drink, and so on—Paul says: these are temporary things. In the case of clothing, it’s almost axiomatic in Scripture that clothing is the very illustration of impermanence. Psalm 102:26: “All of them will wear out like a garment; like clothing you will change them and they will be changed.” In Isaiah 51:6, God says this about the entire creation: “Lift up your eyes to the sky, then look to the earth beneath; for the sky will vanish like smoke, and the earth will wear out like a garment.”
The same thing is true for food. In fact, Jesus Himself makes this same point in Matthew chapter 15, which many commentators believe Paul is self-consciously alluding to (especially in the next phrase). Matthew 15:17: Jesus says, “Do you not understand that everything that goes into the mouth passes into the stomach, and is eliminated?” Don’t you realize that food nourishes the body—that whatever is useful sustains man’s temporal life, and whatever is wasteful is expelled as waste? And that’s the end of it. Paul says in 1 Corinthians 6:13, “Food is for the stomach and the stomach is for food, but God will do away with both of them.” Food is for the stomach, not for the soul. And both food and stomach will be destroyed by God.
And so you see the point: how can food and clothing—which relate only to this present life, which sustain man’s temporal existence, and which by their very nature are transitory and fading, and which will pass away before long—how can these things be the key to spirituality? to the maturity and sustenance and profit of man’s soul, which is immortal and incorruptible? The Christian life is eternal life. It’s everlasting life. And so it cannot be made to consist in things that are merely temporary and external. Romans 14:17: “For the kingdom of God is not eating and drinking, but righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.” There are things that are eternal, and internal. There is what spirituality consists in. Is there a hunger and thirst after true righteousness? Do peace and joy rule in the heart by the indwelling Holy Spirit? Theseare the matters of holiness.
Back in Isaiah 51:6, just after God says “the earth will wear out like a garment,” He says, “But My salvation will be forever, and My righteousness will not wane.” And Jesus will go on to say in that next verse in Matthew 15: What goes into the mouth passes out and passes away. “But,” verse 18, “the things that proceed out of the mouth come from the heart, and those defile the man. … evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, fornications, thefts, false witness, slanders. Theseare the things which defile the man; but to eat with unwashed hands does not defile the man.” External matters don’t defile the man. Nor, therefore, do external and temporary matters sanctify the man. What matters is not what does or does not go into the stomach. What matters is what comes out of the heart.
Now, again, that is not to say that the Word of God has no bearing on what and how we eat. Let’s not trade the heresy of asceticism for the heresy of Gnosticism—where we make the physical body of no consequence, and locate all holiness in the sphere of the immaterial. Overeating can lead to gluttony, which Scripture forbids. Making a pattern of eating unhealthy foods can be poor stewardship of the body that God has given you to be an instrument of service to Him. And, still another concession is that there is an appropriate way to practice fasting as a spiritual discipline—exercising your own rule over your appetites, devoting yourself to undistracted prayer to the Lord, reminding yourself that the words of His mouth are more to be treasured than your necessary food, Job 23:12.
But depriving the body of food in excessive fasting, or of clothing, or of other natural comforts simply misses the point of how holiness is achieved—because all of that concerns what is destined to perish.
III. Comes from the Decrees of Men (v. 22b)
A third reason to reject asceticism is, number three, that asceticism comes from the decrees of men. Verse 22 again: “…(which all refer to things destined to perish with use)—in accordance with the commandments and teachings of men.”
And as I mentioned just a moment ago, there is no question that Paul is intentionally drawing upon the teaching of the Lord Jesus, recorded in Matthew 15 and also Mark chapter 7, where Jesus Himself quotes from Isaiah 29:13. Go ahead and turn to Mark chapter 7. Speaking to the Pharisees, who were criticizing the disciples for not observing the traditions of the Jewish elders concerning hand washing, Jesus says, starting in Mark 7:6: “Rightly did Isaiah prophesy of you hypocrites, as it is written: ‘This people honors Me with their lips, but their heart is far away from Me. But in vain do they worship Me, teaching as doctrines the precepts of men.” Colossians 2:22 uses the words “commandments and teachings of men,” but they’re the same words in the original: the entálmata and didaskalías of men. And Jesus says, “This is vain worship. It is empty worship.”
He goes on, Mark 7:8: “Neglecting the commandment of God, you hold to the tradition of men.” And then verse 9: “You are experts at setting aside the commandment of God in order to keep your tradition.” And so Paul virtually quotes this passage in Colossians 2—after having already charged the Colossians in chapter 2 verse 8 not to be taken captive by empty and deceptive philosophy, which he defined, first of all, as being “according to the tradition of men.” He’s telling the Colossians: “These legalistic, mystic, ascetics—with all their merely human tradition—they’re just another iteration of the Pharisees that hated our Lord, and whom our Lord condemned as empty worshipers.”
You can mark it: when doctrine has its origin in mere men, it does not have its origin in the truth of God. And eventually, one or the other will have to give. Either the tradition of men will give way to the commandment of God, or the commandment of God will be set aside for the sake of the decrees of men.
Several years ago, during the Covid craziness, when the government was attempting exert lordship over the consciences of free people made in the image of God, I came across this quote from the Second London Baptist Confession of 1689, and it has particular relevance for Paul’s point here. Chapter 21, section 2 of the 1689 Confession says, “God alone is Lord of the conscience, and hath left it free from the doctrines and commandments of men which are in any thing contrary to his word, or not contained in it. So that to believe such doctrines, or obey such commands out of conscience, is to betray true liberty of conscience.” To believe the doctrines or obey the commandments of men, which are not expressly set forth in Scripture, nor by good and necessary consequence deduced from Scripture, is to betray true liberty of conscience, because God alone is Lord of the conscience.
And that’s precisely Paul’s point. “You’ve died with Christ and you take orders from men? How does that work?” Christ alone is the Head of the Church. He reserves to Himself alone the honor of appointing how He will be worshiped by His people (cf. Davenant, 1:527).Which means any worship practice that is not rooted in the commandment of God but only in the decrees of men, is unacceptable, forbidden, and blasphemous to God. Deuteronomy 12:8 says, “You shall not do at all what we are doing here today, every man doing whatever is right in his own eyes.” But, verse 32, “Whatever Icommand you, you shall be careful to do; you shall not add to nor take away from it.”
IV. Cannot Domesticate the Flesh (v. 23)
And then, finally, a fourth reason for the deficiency of asceticism. Asceticism should be rejected because it contradicts our death to the world, it concerns what is destined to perish, it comes from the decrees of men, and now, number four: asceticism cannot domesticate the flesh. Verse 23: “These are matters which have, to be sure, the appearance of wisdom in self-made religion and self-abasement and severe treatment of the body, but are of no value against fleshly indulgence.”
Paul says, “I’ll grant you: multiplying these kinds of harsh regulations upon the body has the appearance of wisdom—especially in a culture that over-indulges in every desire the flesh could conjure up, it seems to be wise to swing the pendulum in the other direction and totally deny the body of even normal physical comforts.” People look upon someone who has renounced the comforts of the world, who has given up all his possessions, who wears rough clothing, who lives in a cave, or perched atop a pillar, or in some monastery or convent, hidden away from the world, and they think, “Wow, I could never do that. He has such mastery over himself! She is so spiritually minded!”
But Paul says, that only has the appearance of wisdom. It has a reputation for wisdom, a show of wisdom. And that’s undoubtedly what the false apostles claimed for themselves—that this was a practice of sophia, which is part of the reason why he tells them in verse 8 to be on guard against empty “philo-sophia.” Legalistic asceticism parades itself like the love of true wisdom, but it’s not the real thing. Why? Because, chapter 2 verse 3, all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge are hidden in Christ. And, verse 23, because ultimately, it is “of no value against fleshly indulgence.” Asceticism doesn’t restrain the flesh. The flesh is not subdued by all of this; it’s only stirred up by it.
You say, “What do you mean?” This isn’t following Christ. This is, look at it, “self-made religion.” Etheleothreskía. In verse 18, he used the word threskeia to speak of the worship of angels. And the verb thelo means “to will.” And so this is literally, “will-worship.” It speaks of worship practices that have not been commanded by God, but which have been imposed upon oneself by the will of the worshiper. “God didn’t command this, but I’m going to do it anyway! I’m going to go above and beyond what He requires of sinners!” Do you see how quickly the flesh is stirred up by that? That’s nothing but spiritual arrogance. Self-conceit.
The Roman Catholics call this “works of supererogation.” “‘Above-and-beyond works’—that can not only earn myselfmerit, but because I’m doing even more than what I’m asked to do, this will earn extra merit that can even be shared with others who couldn’t manage to be as spiritual as I am.” Dear people: God wants willing worshipers. Psalm 110:3 says, “Your people will volunteer freely in the day of your power.” But He wants worshipers who delight to do what Hecommands, not who impose their will above His own revealed will to earn extra credit. “God, I know You’re infinitely holy. And I know You are wise and capable enough to communicate Your will to sinners. But let me show You how far beyond what you require I can go!”
No wonder he calls that “false humility.” The NAS translates that “self-abasement,” and that surely fits the ascetic context. But just like in verse 18, it’s just the word for “humility” that will appear as a virtue in chapter 3 verse 12. And so it’s best to understand this as “false humility.” He goes on: the ascetic’s “severe treatment of the body”—in all those kinds of practices that we spoke about at the beginning—certainly has a show of humility—“Look at what I deprive myself of!” But that’s just it: true humility doesn’t call attention to itself. “Look at my humility” isn’t humility. It’s the thin mask of humility poorly covering the reality of the worst kind of spiritual pride.
And what is the chief confusion: It’s conflating the body with the flesh. The flesh is not restricted to our physical bodies. Especially in Paul’s writings it’s a technical, theological term for the whole complex of remaining sin—that remaining, unredeemed, indwelling sin that, in a believer, will only be eradicated when we go to be with Christ in heaven. And that problem is not merely our bodies. In verse 5 of chapter 3, Paul calls us to put to death what is earthly in us, and then he lists evil desire and greed—which are internal sins of the heart that go deeper than just our physical body.
Asceticism treats sin as if it’s localized to our physical flesh, and so it imagines that if we’re beating up on the body we’re beating up on the flesh. But when you used self-imposed religious practices and make a show of humility to try to earnextra favor with God, you deprive the body but feed the flesh—on the grossest, most insufferable kind of spiritual pride. The body suffers, but the flesh thrives.
The only antidote for fleshly indulgence—the only remedy that truly restrains the flesh—is Christ Himself. Only in Him dwells all the spiritual fullness that supplies the members of His body with the spiritual life and nourishment that causes God-given growth. Dear sinner: your flesh dies only as you die in union to Christ in His sin-conquering death. And it’s faith alone that unites you to Him.
If you’re here tonight, still attempting to subdue your flesh by the deficient deviation of asceticism—or legalism, or mysticism, like we spoke about last time—turn away from the hamster wheel of self-made religion, and rest your soul upon Christ, who fulfilled all righteousness, who obeyed every God-given requirement for man, who died in the place of sinners under the heavy hand of the Father’s wrath, who rose again in victory over the very flesh you cannot subdue on your own. Turn away from your own works, and trust in His works. Turn away from your own righteousness, and trust in His righteousness. He alone is sufficient.