Lorenzo Palon

Paul’s words in Colossians 2:20–23 remind believers that they are dead to the world’s systems. When he asks, “Why, as if you were still alive in the world, do you submit to regulations?” he is saying something much bigger than many Christians first realize (Col. 2:20). He is not only speaking about a few religious rules in Colossae. He is speaking about a whole way of living, a whole order of thought, and a whole system that belongs to the old world.

That is important, because Christians often read a passage like this as though Paul were merely saying, “Do not be too strict.” But his point runs deeper. He is saying that believers who belong to Christ have already died to a realm, a regime, a way the old world organizes life. They are no longer meant to live as though fear, status, control, taboo, and human regulation still define their standing before God.

That is what makes this passage so searching. The world’s systems are not just out there in pagan temples, political structures, or openly immoral cultures. They also show up in religion. In fact, they often become most dangerous when they put on religious clothing. They can sound serious, devout, and wise. They can quote Scripture, enforce standards, and produce outward order. Yet Paul says that believers who died with Christ must not go back to living under such systems (Col. 2:20–23).

More Than Personal Forgiveness

To die with Christ means, of course, that sin’s claim has been broken and the old self has been judged. But in Colossians, Paul is pressing further. He is saying that in Christ, believers have been transferred out of the old age and into the new. Earlier in the chapter he warns against being taken captive by “philosophy and empty deceit, according to human tradition, according to the elemental spirits of the world, and not according to Christ” (Col. 2:8). In verse 20, he asks: if you died with Christ to that old order, why do you still act as if it has power over you?

That is the question many churches still need to hear.

A church may preach Jesus and still operate by the world’s systems. It may still rely on fear to keep people in line. It may still build belonging around visible markers, enforced customs, and loyalty tests. It may still measure maturity by outward compliance rather than by love, truth, and growth in Christ. When that happens, the church has become significantly unbalanced. It has started living as though the old world is still in charge.

Paul’s language is sharp because the issue is serious. The old world always wants religion to work in predictable, manageable ways. It wants rules that can be checked, boundaries that can be policed, and identities that can be guarded. It wants to say, “Do not handle, do not taste, and do not touch,” because such commands give the illusion of control (Col. 2:21). But Paul says Christians have died to that world.

The Old World’s Favorite Tools

What are the world’s systems, then, in this passage? At one level, they include the man-made rules Paul lists. But underneath those rules lies a deeper structure. The old world runs on fear, pressure, visible status, human authority, and outward performance. It works by managing people from the outside. It values what can be counted, monitored, and enforced.

That is why rule-based religion can feel so powerful. It provides everyone a script. It tells people exactly where they stand. It rewards compliance. It punishes dissent. It makes holiness look measurable. But Paul refuses to call that maturity. He says these things are “according to human precepts and teachings” (Col. 2:22). However spiritual they may look, they still belong to the old order.

And that is the shock of the passage. The “world” here does not mean only obvious wickedness. It also includes religion when it operates according to the world’s logic. A church can resist secular culture while still operating within the same environment of control, anxiety, and status. It can reject the world’s entertainment and still embody the world’s systems.

Why These Systems Cannot Change the Heart

Paul acknowledges that such systems look impressive. He admits that they have “an appearance of wisdom” in self-made religion, humility, and severity to the body (Col. 2:23). They look serious. They feel weighty. They often attract people who are tired of shallow faith and want something demanding.

But Paul’s verdict is devastating: they are “of no value in stopping the indulgence of the flesh” (Col. 2:23). This is the crux of the issue.

The flesh is not defeated by stricter management. It can survive inside strict religion quite comfortably. Pride can thrive there. Fear can thrive there. Spiritual vanity can thrive there. People can begin to trust their separateness, their customs, their distinctiveness, and their stricter code. They may look disciplined, but inwardly they are still being ruled by the old world’s logic.

That is why dying with Christ to the world’s systems matters so much. Christ did not die and rise merely to provide the old system a more religious form. He came to end its claim over His people. He came to create a new humanity whose life comes not from man-made regulation but from union with Him.

Holding Fast to the Head

This is why the answer in Colossians is never “develop a better system.” Paul has already said the whole body must hold fast to Christ the Head, from whom it receives nourishment and growth (Col. 2:19). That is the alternative. The church does not outgrow false religion by becoming less serious. It outgrows false religion by becoming more deeply rooted in Christ.

That changes everything. If believers have died with Christ and been raised with Him, then their life is no longer defined by the old world’s categories (Col. 3:1–3). Their identity does not come from the group’s code. Their standing does not depend on man-made restrictions. Their holiness does not grow through fear-driven conformity. It grows from life in the risen Messiah.

This does not mean freedom becomes chaos. Paul is not arguing for carelessness. He is arguing for a deeper obedience, one that comes from the Spirit rather than from control. Elsewhere he says, “For freedom, Christ has set us free” (Gal.). 5:1). And then he immediately turns that freedom toward love and Spirit-formed life (Gal. 5:13, 22–23). Freedom in Christ is not the absence of holiness. It is the only place where real holiness can begin.

A Church That Lives in the New World

So what does it mean to die with Christ to the world’s systems? It means the church must stop acting as though fear is its best tool, control is its safest method, and visible conformity is its clearest sign of faithfulness. It means believers must refuse every religious structure that tries to rebuild the old world inside the church.

The gospel announces something better. In Christ, the old age has been judged. In Christ, believers have died to the powers of sin. In Christ, a new creation has begun. That means the church must no longer live as though man-made systems hold the key to spiritual life.

Christ is the key. Christ is the source. Christ is the Head.

And once the church remembers that, it will stop trying to survive by the world’s systems and begin to live from the life of the world to come.

To die with Christ is not only to leave guilt behind. It is to leave behind the old world’s systems of fear, control, and outward performance, and to live instead from the freedom and fullness found in Him.

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