Colossians 1:28

Him we preach, warning every man, and teaching every man in all wisdom that we may present every man perfect in Christ Jesus. To this end I also labor, striving according to his working which works in me mightily. For I want you to know what great conflict I have for you and those in Laodicea, and for as many as have not seen my face in the flesh, that their hearts may be encouraged, being knit together in love and attaining to all riches of the full assurance of understanding, to the knowledge of the mystery of God, both of the Father and of Christ, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. (Colossians 1:28–2:3)

Paul's "great conflict" was never his prison cell—it was the salvation of people he would never meet, and the greatest part of that struggle happened on his knees.

The Thrill of Victory and the Agony of Defeat

"Spanning the globe to bring you the constant variety of sport, the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat..." For nearly 40 years that was the opening narration of ABC's Wide World of Sports, and the phrase became part of American culture.

When I hear those words, I remember a televised event I watched during my freshman year of high school—the 1995 Kona Ironman in Hawaii. The favored woman that year was Paula Newby Frazier, running her final Ironman. To that point she had won 21 of the 26 races she entered. She led for nine hours straight. Then, with 400 yards left, she hit the wall, collapsed to the ground disoriented and dehydrated, and lay there for 20 minutes crying, "I'm going to die, I'm going to die." One by one, the second-, third-, and fourth-place runners passed her. She finally got up and walked barefoot the rest of the way, finishing fourth. Twenty years later people remember not her many victories, but that agony of defeat.

The Agony of Victory

That word agony comes from the Greek root agon. The verb agonizomai means to enter a contest, to contend, to struggle, to strive to obtain something—a crown, a trophy, a name on a plaque.

But when I watch athletes accomplish a win, I sometimes wonder if we shouldn't speak of the agony of victory. As spectators we tune in only to the final quarter, the game, the race. We don't see the months and years—maybe a lifetime—of agony it took to get to that podium. Yes, there is great agony in defeat, but there is just as much agony in victory.

The Christocentric Life Demands Agonizing Determination

In the passage before us we are given a peek into the Apostle Paul's agonizing struggle in Christ—a look at his training routine in this race we call Christianity. And as we look, we find our first point: the Christocentric life demands agonizing determination. A life that is Christ-focused, that has Him at the center of the target, requires agonizing determination.

The New Testament often speaks of following Jesus in athletic terms. The author of Hebrews says we are to "run with endurance the race that is set before us," looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith. If you are a follower of Jesus today, you are entered in this race—a long marathon, not a sprint—and the center focus is Christ Himself. This Christ-focused life demands agonizing determination, and we see it in Paul.

Him We Preach

Jesus we preach. He is our message. "We do not preach ourselves," Paul said in 1 Corinthians; "we preach Christ crucified." In our preaching we warn every man—we warn of the perils of sin, of the judgment that will come, of sin, righteousness, and judgment—that they might know the truth of Christ and His work on their behalf.

Why did Paul endeavor to do these things? Why did he travel the world at great cost to himself, physically, emotionally, and spiritually—walking great distances, sailing poor ships, facing people who beat him and sought to kill him, being robbed on the road between cities? Paul tells us why: "To this end... that we may present every man perfect in Christ Jesus." Whether in a marketplace in Corinth, on a hilltop in Athens, or in a synagogue in Thessalonica, his goal was to present every individual complete in Christ.

What Do You Agonize Over?

"To this end I also labor, striving." That word striving is agonizomai—I agonize, I struggle, I labor with great agony, according to God's working in me. "What great conflict I have for you"—that's agon—"and those in Laodicea, and for as many as have not seen my face in the flesh."

It causes me to wonder: what do you agonize over? Raising your children? Finishing a class? Getting a promotion? Losing the holiday weight? Nine times out of ten, the things I agonize over are self-focused—things that affect me personally.

But look at Paul. He agonized over the spread of the gospel and the faithfulness of Christians. Whereas most of our agonizing is over self-focused endeavors, Paul was Christ-focused, and that changed the way he lived. His effort was Godward—agonizing for the salvation of other people.

Agonizing for People He Had Never Met

Paul penned these words in prison, awaiting trial and an uncertain future. Historically, we know that future would become his death by martyrdom. You would imagine his agony would have to do with his circumstances. Yet Paul says his great conflict is not that he is imprisoned in Rome—it is for a group of Christians who lived a thousand miles away, whom he had never met.

If that's not a work of God in a person's life, I don't know what is. Honestly, I don't lose sleep over people in Lubbock, Texas. I'm not the Apostle Paul. But Paul says, "My agony, my struggle, my great conflict is for you, although I've never seen your face and probably never will in this life."

I can identify to a certain extent. As I drive to and from this church, run errands, and take my kids to school, I know that within five miles of this building there are more than a quarter million people. The Southern Baptist Organization studied San Diego County and found that of the 3.2 million people in this county, only 10% are connected to a gospel-preaching church on a Sunday morning. That means more than 250,000 people within five miles of this building don't have the gospel. There is a struggle in my heart: Lord, how do we reach them?

And you share in this agony too. Every one of us has family members, coworkers, friends, and neighbors who don't know Christ. There's probably a name and a face coming to mind right now—someone you may see across the table on Thursday, someone you've prayed for and invited and shared your faith with, who has so far said no. You wish they would be complete in Christ. You wish they would be saved.

That Their Hearts May Be Encouraged

What was the purpose of Paul's struggle? "That their hearts may be encouraged." His prayer for unbelievers was that they would come to Christ; his prayer for believers was threefold.

First, that their hearts would be encouraged. This word is connected with the person and work of the Holy Spirit—that they would know the fullness of the power and presence of God's Spirit in their lives.

Knit Together in Love

Second, that they would be "knit together in love"—connected to one another by the love of God, enjoying the unity of the body of Christ. Unity is not easy. Unity in a church takes work; so does unity in a marriage. That's why Paul tells the Ephesians to "endeavor to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace." Unity doesn't just happen; it takes effort and energy.

And the core component is love. Scripture says love covers a multitude of sins. Husbands, you need the love your wife has for you to cover the multitude of your problems—and wives, you do too. When a marriage breaks apart, so often people say, "I just don't love them anymore." When that love is gone, it becomes far harder to cover the imperfections. Only God makes us perfect, and that won't be complete until heaven. Ladies, if you're trying to make your husband perfect, you'll be frustrated—you probably already are.

The same is true in the church. People do things that drive you nuts—so much so that you switch services to avoid them. (I go to all three, so it's a problem for me.) We need love. Jesus tells us to love one another as He has loved us, or else the church fractures.

All the Treasures of Wisdom and Knowledge

Third, that they would have a rich and complete understanding of the mystery of God in Christ—that we would fully comprehend everything we have from God in Christ. Earlier this year in Ephesians 1 we saw some of these spiritual blessings: we are blessed with every spiritual blessing, chosen in Him, predestined, accepted, redeemed, forgiven, given the mystery of His will, given an inheritance, and one day gathered together with Him for eternity. Paul says, "I labor so that you would know the fullness of all these things you have in Christ."

This brings us to our second point: we must agonize to see others know Christ as we know Him, even when it requires laborious agony on our part. Why? Because in Christ "are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge." If you came upon an undepletable mine of riches, you would want others to share in it. In Christ you have found exactly that mine—all wisdom, all knowledge, all fullness.

What Could Paul Do for People a Thousand Miles Away?

As I poured over this passage, I kept wondering: what agonizing thing could Paul be doing on behalf of people he would never meet? The more I considered it, the more I realized the agonizing thing was prayer.

There's a hint of this at the end of the book. In Colossians 4:12, Paul writes of Epaphras, "a bondservant of Christ... always laboring fervently for you in prayers." Those words "laboring fervently" are agonizomai—he is always agonizing for you in prayers, "that you may stand perfect and complete in all the will of God." Both Paul and Epaphras were laboring fervently toward the same end—seeing the Colossians stand complete in Christ—and Epaphras was doing it by prayer. So what was Paul laboring by for a church a thousand miles away? By prayer.

Prayer Is an Agonizing Struggle

Is prayer really agonizing labor? Consider that one of the most agonizing things Jesus ever did was pray in the Garden of Gethsemane on the night He was betrayed. In Luke 22:44 we read that, "being in agony, He prayed more earnestly, and His sweat became like great drops of blood falling to the ground."

His disciples were not up to the agonizing task. In Matthew 26:40 Jesus found them sleeping and asked, "Could you not pray with Me one hour?" Have you ever tried to pray a solid, intentional hour? It's agony. Years ago, for four years, we gathered on Wednesday mornings to pray at six o'clock—and I confess there were a couple of mornings I "pulled a Peter." Alistair Begg says the greatest struggle in all ministry is the struggle in personal, private, devotional prayer—then beyond that, praying with others, and beyond that, praying corporately.

That's our third point: prayer is an agonizing struggle. I can think of three reasons why.

First, we don't like to pray. Someone will object, "I love to pray." I don't believe you. Spiritually we desire to connect with God, but our natural everyday tendency resists it, because it's hard work. It's like waking up knowing you need to work out. I run a few times a week, and I don't want to do it while lacing up my shoes or on the way to the gym—the whole way I'm trying to talk myself out of it. But when I'm done, I love it. Prayer is not so different.

Second, prayer feels powerless. It isn't—Scripture and our own lives give abundant evidence to the contrary. E.M. Bounds wrote, "Where prayer is focused, power falls." But it feels powerless. That's why, when a coworker or family member tells us about a struggle, we say, "I wish I could help—I guess all I can do is pray for you," as though it weren't enough. About 15 years ago I was housesitting—feeding two German shepherds (former police dogs) and a Rottweiler—when I emptied my pockets on the table, went outside, and locked myself out. I could see my keys through the window. The whole time a thought kept coming: "Pray." "That's stupid; that won't help." After 20 minutes of that internal back-and-forth, I finally said, "Fine, Lord, please open the door." I grabbed the door and it opened. True story.

Third, the devil fights to keep us from prayer. Prayer is a spiritual endeavor, and we have a spiritual enemy. He's too subtle to say "don't pray"—we'd recognize that instantly. He just says, "Don't pray now; pray later." You feel the need to pray, but your mind is crazy, so you'll pray later. You resolve to become a prayer warrior next year, and when next year comes you push it off again. Later never comes.

Nothing More Christ-Like Than Prayer

All of this brings us to our fourth point: there is nothing more Christ-centric and Christ-like than agonizing in prayer. If you desire to be Christ-focused and Christ-like, prayer is the most Christ-focused and Christ-like endeavor you can undertake. And the greatest part of our agonizing struggle to see others come to Christ takes place in prayer.

Would you like to see that person you were thinking about earlier—the coworker, the child, the brother or sister—come to faith in Christ? Then begin with the agony of prayer. That's our fifth point: prayer is the first agonizing step in evangelism.

In the seat back in front of you is a prayer card. Take one out, and on the back where it says "prayer request," do you know anyone you wish would come to faith in Christ? Write down just one name. Now, where you are, bow your head, and let's take one minute of silent prayer for that person.

Closing Prayer

Father, in the hearts and minds of so many of us is the thought, "I've tried so many times, I've shared my faith, I've invited them, and they don't listen—this won't help." There is that thought that this is a powerless, hopeless endeavor. But Lord, Your word reveals again and again that where prayer is focused, power falls. The enemy would have us pray later, but right now we lift these people up to Your throne room. At this very moment, perhaps 200 names have been written down and prayed for—family members, friends, coworkers, neighbors who need to know You.

Father, there are 250,000 people within five miles of this building who need to know You. We pray that You would show us, as a church, how to reach them and share the gospel with them, that they would come to know You as we know You. Help us never to share our faith before we've prayed. If there are addictions that need to be broken, relationships that need to be mended, sorrys that need to be said, or forgiveness that needs to be granted before we share, give us the ability to do that. We pray for these people, many of whom we may see across the dinner table on Thursday, and we ask that by the end of that day we would give thanks for their salvation. Draw people to Yourself, for no one comes to You except You by Your Spirit draw them. Do the work of drawing them, so they too would know the completeness of being in You. We ask this in Jesus' name, and everyone who agreed said, Amen.