Finding Our Center: Why Christ Alone Is Enough

Social media has given us countless viral challenges over the years. Remember the ice bucket challenge? Or planking? One particularly interesting challenge asked people to stand on a piece of tape, put on a blindfold, and jump in place for 30 seconds. The goal was simple: stay on the tape. Yet most people discovered something surprising—when they removed the blindfold, they had drifted ten yards away without even realizing it.

This phenomenon of drifting while thinking we're standing still isn't just a quirky social media experiment. It's a powerful metaphor for our spiritual lives.

The Danger of Spiritual Drift

The church at Colossae faced this exact problem. They started well, rooted in the truth of the gospel through genuine missionary effort. But over time, positioned on a busy trade route where ideas and religions flowed as freely as commerce, they began to drift. With their spiritual blindfolds on, they moved away from the centrality of Christ without fully realizing what was happening.

Paul's letter to the Colossians addresses this drift head-on. In Colossians 2:16-23, he identifies three specific dangers that were pulling believers away from Christ: legalism, mysticism, and asceticism. These aren't just ancient problems—they're alive and well in the church today.

The Trap of Legalism

"Therefore do not let anyone judge you by what you eat or drink, or with regard to a religious festival, a new moon celebration, or a Sabbath day. These are a shadow of the things that were to come. The reality, however, is found in Christ."

Legalism whispers a seductive lie: you can earn God's approval through good works. It focuses on God's law more than God's love. It says if you just go to church enough, serve enough, give enough, read your Bible enough—then God will accept you.

But this fundamentally misunderstands the gospel.

Tim Keller captured the distinction perfectly: "Religion operates on the principle, I obey, therefore I am accepted by God. But the operating principle of the gospel is, I am accepted by God through what Christ has done, therefore I obey."

Consider the thief on the cross. He never attended a Bible study. He was never baptized. He knew nothing about church membership. Yet Jesus told him, "Today you will be with me in paradise." How did he make it? Not through following rules or accumulating good deeds, but because the man on the middle cross said he could come.

That's the only basis for our standing before God—not what we have done, but what Christ has done.

Paul makes this clear: all these religious observances are merely shadows. And shadows do us no good. If you're hungry and see the shadow of a hamburger, you'll only become more hungry. If someone breaks into your house and you see the shadow of a police officer, the shadow can't help you. You need the real thing—the substance, not the shadow.

Why would we ever settle for shadows when we can have Christ Himself?

The Allure of Mysticism

Paul warns the Colossians: "Do not let anyone who delights in false humility and the worship of angels disqualify you." The church was being tempted to detach themselves from Christ as their head, pursuing spiritual experiences and visions that looked impressive but lacked substance.

Mysticism seeks reality in subjective experience. There's nothing wrong with experiencing God—we should long for encounters with Him. But our experiences must bow to the truth of Scripture. We don't determine truth by how we feel but by what God's Word says.

The Colossian believers were worshiping angels and sharing elaborate visions. It looked deeply spiritual from the outside. But Paul calls it what it really is: unspiritual. Pride dressed up in religious clothing.

Think of a snake with its head cut off. The body still moves, creating the appearance of life. But it's not alive—just nerves firing. Similarly, a church can have movement and activity that looks like spiritual life, but if Christ isn't the head, it's empty motion without real value.

Biblical Christianity isn't anti-experience. It's anti-experience detached from Christ and His Word. Everything must fall under the authority of Scripture with Christ at the center. Even if an angel from heaven preaches a different gospel, Paul says in Galatians 1:8, let that angel be cursed.

The Deception of Asceticism

The third danger Paul addresses is asceticism—the extreme denial of physical pleasures in pursuit of holiness. "Do not handle! Do not taste! Do not touch!" These were the rules some were imposing on themselves, thinking harsh treatment of the body would make them more spiritual.

Paul's assessment? "Such regulations indeed have an appearance of wisdom, with their self-imposed worship, their false humility and their harsh treatment of the body, but they lack any value in restraining sensual indulgence."

In other words, they don't actually work.

How many times have we tried to overcome sin through sheer willpower? We think if we just try harder, discipline ourselves more strictly, we can conquer that persistent sin. But we keep failing, falling into the same patterns again and again.

Here's the truth: you're not good enough, smart enough, or strong enough to kill sin on your own. Only Christ can do that work in us.

This doesn't mean we shouldn't take practical steps to avoid temptation. But those steps must come after—not before—taking our sin to the cross. If you struggle with alcohol, by all means remove it from your house. But first, take that struggle to Jesus, confess it, ask for His strength. Then clear out the alcohol.

If you battle lust, get accountability, install filters, delete social media if necessary. But first, bend your knee before Christ and find your strength in Him. Then take the practical steps.

The True Mark of a Christian

What sets believers apart isn't that we don't sin—everyone sins. What makes us different is what we do when we sin. The world feels bad about sin and tries to do better. Christians take their sin to the cross of Christ, finding mercy, forgiveness, and supernatural strength to walk in holiness.

Jesus isn't just the first step of salvation. He's every step after that.

Consider this challenging question: If you could have heaven with no sickness, all your loved ones, all your favorite foods, all your favorite activities, perfect peace—but Christ wasn't there—would you be satisfied?

When you think about heaven, what brings you the most joy? Reunion with loved ones? Freedom from pain? Or seeing Christ face to face?

If heaven without Christ sounds acceptable, we've drifted from center. We've separated Christ from the head of our faith.

Staying Centered on Christ

The invitation isn't to try harder or be better. It's to take off our blindfolds and fix our eyes on Jesus. Yes, we'll still drift—we're human. But the antidote isn't self-improvement. It's looking to Christ, letting His grace and mercy pull us back to center.

The gift of the gospel isn't riches or status or even a better life. The gift is God Himself. We get Christ, and Christ is enough.

In every struggle with sin, in every up and down of life, may we keep Christ at the center, our eyes transfixed on His glory. Not chasing shadows, but pursuing the substance. Not adding rules or experiences or self-denial to the gospel, but finding complete satisfaction in the King of kings and Lord of lords.

We have Christ. And Christ is enough.