How to Stand Firm in the Gospel When Everything Shifts | Colossians 1:21-23

How to Stand Firm in the Gospel When Everything Shifts | Colossians 1:21-23

By Pastor Autry Watkins IV | Transformation Church | January 05, 2026

We live in an age of constant shifting. Algorithms change what we see. Markets shift our security. Relationships shift our stability. Cultural norms that seemed permanent ten years ago have evaporated like morning mist. In this relentless instability, even our faith can begin to drift—subtly, imperceptibly, like a boat slowly moving from its anchor. We don't announce we're leaving the gospel; we just gradually shift our hope to other things. Paul knew this danger intimately. Writing to the Colossian church, he celebrates the cosmic reconciliation accomplished in Christ—alienated enemies made into holy, blameless friends—then immediately warns: "if indeed you continue in the faith, stable and steadfast, not shifting from the hope of the gospel" (Colossians 1:23). That little word "if" should arrest us. It's not a threat to our security in Christ, but a pastoral warning about the real danger of drift. What does it mean to not shift from the hope of the gospel? And how do we remain anchored when everything around us—and sometimes within us—seems unstable?

Watch the full sermon above

The Miracle That Precedes the Warning: From Alienation to Reconciliation

Before Paul issues his warning about shifting, he paints one of Scripture's most vivid portraits of what Christ has accomplished. "And you, who once were alienated and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, he has now reconciled in his body of flesh by his death, in order to present you holy and blameless and above reproach before him" (Colossians 1:21-22). Notice the devastating diagnosis: alienated, hostile in mind, doing evil deeds. This isn't the picture of fundamentally good people who occasionally stumble. This is cosmic treason. We were God's enemies, not because of unfortunate circumstances or poor upbringing, but because of our own willing rebellion. Our minds were hostile—we thought antagonistic thoughts about God, resented His authority, suppressed His truth. Our deeds were evil—not just flawed but actively opposed to His holiness. But then comes that glorious hinge word: "he has now reconciled." The initiative is entirely God's. Christ didn't reconcile us because we showed promise or potential. He reconciled us while we were still enemies (Romans 5:10). And notice the means: "in his body of flesh by his death." This is no abstract theological transaction. The eternal Son took on vulnerable flesh—real nerves that could feel pain, real blood that could be spilled—and in that body absorbed the full weight of divine wrath we deserved. The reconciliation wasn't accomplished through inspiring teachings or moral example, but through substitutionary death. This is the gospel's beating heart: Christ standing in our place, receiving our condemnation, so we could receive His righteousness. And the result? We are presented "holy and blameless and above reproach before him." Not "getting better," not "working toward holiness," but already declared holy in God's sight because we're united to Christ. This is the hope of the gospel—not that we can make ourselves acceptable, but that Christ has already made us acceptable through His finished work. Friend, do you feel the wonder of this? The God against whom you rebelled has reconciled you to Himself at infinite cost. Before Paul warns about shifting, he wants us staggered by what we have in Christ.

And you, who once were alienated and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, he has now reconciled in his body of flesh by his death, in order to present you holy and blameless and above reproach before him. — Colossians 1:21-22

For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life. — Romans 5:10

For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God. — 2 Corinthians 5:21

The Sobering Condition: Continuing Stable and Steadfast

Now comes the pastoral warning that makes many of us uncomfortable: "if indeed you continue in the faith, stable and steadfast, not shifting from the hope of the gospel" (Colossians 1:23). Is Paul suggesting our salvation depends on our perseverance? Is he undermining the security we have in Christ? Not at all. Paul is recognizing what Reformed theology has always affirmed: genuine faith perseveres. Not perfectly, but really. The tree is known by its fruit. The "if" here is not expressing doubt about true believers, but distinguishing true faith from false profession. John Calvin wrote, "It is faith alone that justifies, but the faith that justifies is never alone." True faith produces a pattern of continuing, even when it includes seasons of struggle and doubt. Notice Paul's three descriptors: "continue," "stable," and "steadfast." To continue means to remain, to abide, to keep dwelling in the truth of the gospel. It's not about achieving sinless perfection, but maintaining our fundamental orientation toward Christ. To be stable means to have a settled foundation, not being tossed around by every new teaching or cultural pressure. To be steadfast means to be immovable, firmly fixed in place. These words picture a building on bedrock, a tree with deep roots, a ship with a strong anchor. But what threatens this stability? Paul identifies the danger precisely: "shifting from the hope of the gospel." The Greek word for "shifting" (metakineo) means to move away from, to displace, to remove. It's not necessarily a dramatic apostasy—it can be a gradual drift. We don't wake up one morning and decide to abandon Christ. Instead, we slowly shift our ultimate hope to other things: career success, family stability, political victory, financial security, human approval. These things aren't evil in themselves, but when they become our functional saviors—the things we believe will finally make us secure and significant—we've shifted from the hope of the gospel. The writer of Hebrews warns about this same danger: "Therefore we must pay much closer attention to what we have heard, lest we drift away from it" (Hebrews 2:1). Drift is passive. It requires no conscious decision. We simply stop fighting the current of cultural Christianity, comfort-seeking, and self-reliance. The gospel that once amazed us becomes background noise. The cross that once broke our hearts becomes a familiar symbol we barely notice.

if indeed you continue in the faith, stable and steadfast, not shifting from the hope of the gospel that you heard, which has been proclaimed in all creation under heaven, and of which I, Paul, became a minister. — Colossians 1:23

Therefore we must pay much closer attention to what we have heard, lest we drift away from it. — Hebrews 2:1

So also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead. — James 2:17

The Anchoring Truth: The Gospel That Has Been Proclaimed

How do we fight this drift? How do we remain stable when everything around us shifts? Paul gives us the answer: we anchor ourselves in "the hope of the gospel that you heard, which has been proclaimed in all creation under heaven" (Colossians 1:23). The gospel isn't just the entry point to Christianity—it's the entire structure, foundation to roof. We don't graduate beyond the gospel to more advanced spirituality. We go deeper into it, discover new dimensions of it, apply it to new areas of life. But we never move past it. The gospel is the good news that God has accomplished our salvation entirely through Christ's finished work. Not 99% Christ and 1% our effort. Not Christ's work activated by our decision. Not Christ's sacrifice made effective by our sincerity. It's all Christ, from beginning to end. "For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast" (Ephesians 2:8-9). This gospel creates an immovable hope. Our confidence isn't based on the strength of our grip on Christ, but on the strength of His grip on us. Jesus said, "My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand" (John 10:27-28). Notice: eternal life is a gift given, not a reward earned. We will never perish—not "probably won't" or "might not if we're good enough," but absolutely, categorically will never perish. And the reason? Not our perseverance, but His secure hold. No one—not Satan, not circumstances, not our own failures—can snatch us from His hand. This is the hope that stabilizes us. When we fail, we return to the gospel that declares Christ's righteousness covers our failure. When we succeed, we return to the gospel that declares our worth comes from Christ's work, not our achievements. When we doubt, we return to the gospel that declares God's love was proven at the cross, not dependent on our feelings. When we're afraid, we return to the gospel that declares God is for us and has already given His Son—will He not also give us all things (Romans 8:32)? The gospel isn't information to be mastered; it's an inexhaustible well to which we must return daily, hourly, constantly. Martin Luther said we must "beat the gospel into our heads incessantly" because we are such chronic forgetters. The Colossians heard this gospel, and Paul's warning is simply this: keep hearing it, keep believing it, keep building your life on it. Don't shift to supplemental saviors.

if indeed you continue in the faith, stable and steadfast, not shifting from the hope of the gospel that you heard, which has been proclaimed in all creation under heaven, and of which I, Paul, became a minister. — Colossians 1:23

For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. — Ephesians 2:8-9

My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand. — John 10:27-28

He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? — Romans 8:32

The Practical Disciplines: How We Fight the Drift

So practically, what does it look like to not shift from the hope of the gospel? First, we must be ruthlessly honest about our functional saviors. What do you turn to for security when life feels unstable? What do you believe will finally make you significant? What would devastate you if you lost it? These questions expose where we've shifted our hope. The gospel says Christ alone is your security, significance, and satisfaction. Everything else is gift, not god. Second, we must marinate our minds in Scripture. Paul says to be transformed by the renewal of our minds (Romans 12:2). This isn't casual Bible reading; it's sustained meditation on God's word until it reshapes how we think. The Psalms model this for us—the psalmists constantly preach the gospel to themselves, rehearsing God's character and works until their emotions align with truth. Third, we must surround ourselves with gospel-centered community. Hebrews 3:13 commands us to "exhort one another every day, as long as it is called 'today,' that none of you may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin." We need brothers and sisters who will ask us hard questions, point us back to Christ, and remind us of the gospel when we're drifting. Fourth, we must cultivate habits of repentance and worship. Repentance isn't just for unbelievers; it's the daily rhythm of Christian life. We turn from functional saviors back to Christ. Worship—both corporate and personal—reorients our hearts around the beauty and supremacy of Christ. When we sing of His worth, when we hear His word preached, when we celebrate His table, we're anchoring ourselves again in gospel reality. Finally, we must preach the gospel to ourselves daily. Jerry Bridges wrote that we must learn to "preach the gospel to yourself every day" because we are prone to forget it and drift into works-righteousness or despair. Start your day by remembering: I am more sinful than I ever dared believe, but more loved than I ever dared hope, because of Christ's finished work.

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect. — Romans 12:2

But exhort one another every day, as long as it is called 'today,' that none of you may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin. — Hebrews 3:13

But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ. — Philippians 3:7-8

Application

Let's make this intensely personal with some searching questions for self-examination. Where have you shifted your hope away from the gospel? Is it to your marriage—believing that if only your spouse would change, you'd finally be secure? Is it to your children—living vicariously through their achievements because you've made them your glory? Is it to your career—believing professional success will finally prove your worth? Is it to political victory—thinking the right election results will secure your future? Is it to your own moral performance—subtly believing God's love depends on your consistency? Here's how you know: What makes you anxious? What makes you angry? What makes you despairing? Our disproportionate emotional responses reveal our functional gods. If losing your job would devastate you beyond the practical inconvenience, your job has become an idol. If your child's rebellion makes you not just sad but deeply insecure, you've shifted your hope to your children. The gospel calls us back. Christ is your security—nothing can separate you from His love (Romans 8:38-39). Christ is your significance—you're already holy and blameless before God (Colossians 1:22). Christ is your satisfaction—in Him are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge (Colossians 2:3). Fight the drift by daily returning to these truths. Write them down. Memorize them. Rehearse them when anxiety rises. Tell them to yourself before bed and when you wake. And remember: your ability to do this comes from Christ, not your willpower. He's the one who keeps you from stumbling (Jude 24). Trust Him to complete the work He started (Philippians 1:6).

Brothers and sisters, the gospel is not just good news—it's the best news in all eternity. God didn't just offer reconciliation; He accomplished it in Christ's body of flesh through His death. You are not working toward acceptance; if you're in Christ, you're already accepted. You're not hoping God might love you someday; His love was demonstrated definitively at the cross. This is the hope from which we must not shift. Not because we'll lose our salvation if we waver, but because this gospel is the only thing that truly satisfies, truly secures, truly transforms. Everything else will shift, fade, disappoint. But Christ remains. His work is finished. His promises are sure. His love endures forever. Build your life on this unshakable foundation. Anchor your soul in this unchanging truth. And find that in a world of constant shifting, you can stand firm, stable, and steadfast in the hope of the gospel.

For Further Reflection

How does understanding that we were God's enemies (not just struggling seekers) deepen our appreciation for the gospel? Where have you minimized the depth of your rebellion against God?

What functional saviors do you tend to shift your hope toward? How do your anxiety triggers and anger patterns reveal where you're trusting something other than Christ?

Paul says true believers 'continue in the faith.' What's the difference between perfect perseverance and the pattern of perseverance that characterizes genuine faith? How does this understanding comfort you without making you complacent?

How would your daily life change if you truly believed that you are already 'holy and blameless and above reproach' before God because of Christ's work? What would you do differently today?

What specific, practical steps can you take this week to 'beat the gospel into your head incessantly' and fight the subtle drift away from the hope of the gospel? Who in your life can help hold you accountable to remaining anchored in Christ?