My fellow prisoner Aristarchus sends you his greetings, as does Mark, the cousin of Barnabas. (You have received instructions about him; if he comes to you, welcome him.) Jesus, who is called Justus, also sends greetings. These are the only Jews among my co-workers for the kingdom of God, and they have proved a comfort to me.
Colossians 4:10,11
We all have a past. And that past has left its mark on us. Marks that you can’t erase. Marks that you can’t just peel off or paint over. The marks of your past have helped to make you who you are today. Those marks can be both a bad thing and a good thing.
For example, I was born in Baltimore, Maryland. For some reason, Baltimore always had a second-class feeling about itself. Tightly wedged in between Philadelphia and Washington, DC, Baltimore wasn’t a destination, it was a stop along the way.
And living in the shadow of New York City didn’t help either. New York had Broadway while we had The Block[1], a bunch or strip joints on Baltimore Street. New York was bigger and better than Baltimore in every way. New York had The Giants. Even the name screams strength and superiority. We had the Orioles, a small bird that nervously jumped around. Giants ate meat and their enemies for lunch while the Orioles ran around, scrounging for insects and mealworms.
This feeling even came out in what people were called. People from New York were called New Yorkers. But us, the people from Baltimore were called Balti-morons. New York had bagels, corned beef sandwiches a mile high, and New York strip steak. There was even a drink called the Manhattan. There weren’t any Baltimore steaks or sandwiches. There was no Baltimore sounding drink other than the local favorite, “Natty Boh.[2]”
Yes, Baltimore was famous for the Star Spangled Banner, our National Anthem. Yes, we were the home and undisputed champion of crabcakes and steamed crabs. But then again we also ate sauerkraut with our Thanksgiving turkey[3]. How weird is that?
Even though it’s been 45 years since we left Baltimore, we still look forward to our Baltimore traditions. The cheap imitation crabcakes you get in restaurants, or the frozen hockey pucks you find in the food section of your grocery store will never pollute this Baltimore tongue. For special occasions we find fresh crab meat and gently make the heavenly cakes by hand.
And yes, we have sauerkraut with our Thanksgiving turkey. We’ve had it every year. No matter where we’ve lived, our Thanksgiving table was graced with all the traditional trimmings. In the middle of that magnificent, thankful celebration was a bowl of sauerkraut. And I’m instantly transported back to Baltimore.
Paul also looks back at his upbringing and heritage with fondness. He not only specifically mentions Aristarchus, Mark and Justus, but shares why they’re so special. In a faraway Roman jail, these three share his Jewish roots. Of all the people around him in that strange place, with all their strange customs, this trio of Jews can talk about their traditions together. The feasts. Passover. The Day of Atonement. All the customs that helped them stay separate from the people around them.
And what was the result of their friendship? How did their common bonds and heritage impact the Apostle Paul? He says that they were a comfort to him. Could there be a greater complement that Paul could have paid to these guys? I think the answer is no.
They were like a soothing ointment or oil on Paul’s wounded heart. Remember that Paul had been chased all over the place, Jews and gentiles alike hated him and his talking about Jesus being the once-and-for-all payment for sin. His stores about Jesus being raised from the dead were the all the proof they needed to have him declared crazy and labeled as a criminal.
He’d been yelled at. Mocked. Spit at. Stoned. Chased and finally arrested. After a joke of a trial, he asked to plead his case directly to Caesar. So they shipped back to Rome for the trial of his life. And after surviving a shipwreck, he was put in a Roman jail to await his trial.
Now I don’t know about you, but even if half of all that stuff happened to me, I’d be pretty depressed. I’d need good people and friends around me as much as possible. I’d look forward to their visits with eager anticipation. And I’d not want their visits to ever end.
So, who are the people in your life that are a comfort? The men and women whose friendship is like a breadth of fresh air. Who are like a breakthrough treatment that refreshes and energizes you. Who are like a sunrise after the loud and violent storms of the night.
Paul was blessed by God to have these three with him while in a Roman prison. You’re probably not in jail, being guarded 24-7 by a guard, but you need comforting people. Maybe more than ever, you need people that will be a relief in the desperate hours you find yourself in. In most cases, your comforting friends will share something from your past. This will help them stick like glue to you. And you to them.
Noodling Questions
How has your past influenced your relationship with God?
Describe your friendships that pushed you away from God. Drew you to God
How can we stick like glue with the people God wants us to help and support?
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