Why Submit to Regulations?

Introduction

When the Titanic sank in 1912, many passengers clung desperately to anything that looked like it could save them—chairs, broken pieces of wood, even decorative panels ripped from the ship.

In the chaos, people grabbed whatever seemed sturdy, whatever felt like it might keep them afloat.

But most of those objects were never designed to bear the weight of a human life.

They gave a moment of hope, but no real rescue.

They looked like salvation, but they could not save.

Paul says that man‑made religion works the same way.

It looks sturdy.

It feels spiritual.

It gives the illusion of safety—rules, rituals, self‑denial, spiritual checklists.

But when the weight of sin, guilt, and temptation presses down, these things cannot hold us up.

They were never designed to do so.

Only Christ can.

So Paul asks why we cling to things that cannot save, sanctify, or satisfy, when Christ has already united us to himself in his death and resurrection?

Scripture

Let’s read Colossians 2:20-23:

20 If with Christ you died to the elemental spirits of the world, why, as if you were still alive in the world, do you submit to regulations— 21 “Do not handle, Do not taste, Do not touch” 22 (referring to things that all perish as they are used)—according to human precepts and teachings? 23 These have indeed an appearance of wisdom in promoting self-made religion and asceticism and severity to the body, but they are of no value in stopping the indulgence of the flesh.

Lesson

Colossians 2:20-23 teaches us that because believers have died with Christ, submitting to human regulations cannot produce true holiness.

Let’s use the following outline:

The Futility of Man-Made Religion (2:20-21)

The Deception of Self-Made Religion (2:22-23a)

The Powerlessness of Self-Denial Religion (2:23b)

I. The Futility of Man-Made Religion (2:20-21)

First, notice the futility of man-made religion.

Paul says in verses 20-21: “If with Christ you died to the elemental spirits of the world, why, as if you were still alive in the world, do you submit to regulations?—'Do not handle, Do not taste, Do not touch.’ ”  

Paul was concerned that the Colossians were falling prey to false teaching.

Paul’s point is that believers have died with Christ.

They have been delivered from spiritual bondage.

They have new lives in Christ.

They are in union with him.

Now, along come false teachers  with regulations such as “Do not handle, Do not taste, Do not touch.”

These regulations represent man-made religion.

They represent human-invented systems of holiness.

The regulations promise spiritual growth.

But they cannot deliver because they come from the elemental spirits of the world.

The term “elemental spirits” is difficult to interpret because it had a range of meanings in ancient times.

Most likely, it is referring to spiritual beings.

These spiritual beings were influencing the false teachers who, in turn, were trying to influence the believers in Colossae.

Paul does not want believers to turn to any kind of man-made religion.

My dear brother and sister, your spiritual growth does not flow from observing man-made rules.

Your spiritual growth flows from your union with Christ.

The Puritan Thomas Goodwin (1600 – 1680) spent his early years chasing holiness through strict fasting, long prayers, and relentless self‑examination.

The harder he worked, the more defeated he felt.

Everything changed when he heard a sermon on union with Christ.

He suddenly saw that holiness flows not from effort but from the life of Christ already joined to him.

Goodwin later said he had “hunted grace in my own heart, and found it only in the heart of Christ.”

Many believers today live by unwritten rules, such as:

“Christians never struggle.”

“Christians always feel joyful.”

“Christians vote for a particular party.”

These checklists feel spiritual but enslave the conscience.

Brothers and sisters, examine where you substitute rules for a relationship with Christ.

Now, that does not mean there are no rules, and that you don’t obey Christ.

In fact, Christ himself said in John 14:15, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.”

The difference is that you are obeying biblical commandments rather than man-made rules.

Ask yourself, “What do I rely on to feel righteous—Christ or my performance?”

Do you remember the children’s story about the three little pigs and the big bad wolf?

The first little pig’s house was built with straw.

After huffing and puffing, the big bad wolf blew it down.

He then moved on to the second little pig’s house, which was built out of wood.

As before, the wolf huffed and puffed and blew this house down also.

By this time, the big bad wolf was feeling pretty confident.

Filled with pride, he approached the next house—the one made of bricks.

Once again, he huffed and puffed, but nothing happened.

So he huffed, and he puffed, and he huffed, and he puffed and … he failed to blow down this house.

His previous experiences had deceived him.

In the same way, people often act like the big, bad wolf.

We deceive ourselves into thinking we can tear down the walls that keep us from approaching God.

But Scripture declares that we have no power in ourselves to approach God.

“But doesn’t my life count for something?” you might ask.

“I go to church; I’m a good person; I do good things for people. Isn’t that the basis for approaching God?”

No!

Man-made religion is totally inadequate.

The only way to God is through Jesus Christ (Leadership Ministries Worldwide, Practical Illustrations: Galatians, Ephesians, Philippians, Colossians [Chattanooga, TN: Leadership Ministries Worldwide, 2001], 18–19).

So, set aside the futility of man-made religion.

Realize that Christ alone is sufficient to bring us to God and to help us grow in our walk with him.

II. The Deception of Self-Made Religion (2:22-23a)

Second, observe the deception of self-made religion.

Paul writes in verses 22-23a, “… (referring to things that all perish as they are used)—according to human precepts and teachings? These have indeed an appearance of wisdom in promoting self-made religion and asceticism and severity to the body….”

The false teachers were referring to perishable things, such as food and drink, which pass away when consumed.

Further, the false teachings were a human invention, as Paul said, “according to human precepts and teachings.”

This false teaching was in contrast to the liberating message of the gospel.

Paul exposes the deception of self-made religion.

It looks wise.

It feels spiritual.

It appears serious.

But it is rooted in human invention, not divine revelation.

Scripture alone defines true worship.

We hold to what we call the Regulative Principle of Worship.

That means that the word of God regulates our worship.

We worship according to what God has prescribed in his word.

We do not hold to the Normative Principle of Worship.

That principle holds that we can do anything in worship so long as it is not forbidden in Scripture.

No.

We don’t do what we want, but rather what God wants.

In ancient times, the Pharisees built fences around the Law to prevent disobedience.

Their intentions were good, but their additions became burdens that obscured God’s word.

Jesus rebuked them for breaking God's commandment for the sake of their tradition (see Matthew 15:3).

There are some holiness groups or revivalistic networks that focus on extreme fasting to grow in holiness.

There is a story about a young man in such a church who became convinced that deeper spirituality required greater sacrifice.

He started with a simple fast, skipping a few meals to pray.

It felt meaningful, so he pushed further.

Three days became seven.

Seven became twenty-one.

Soon, he was telling others, “If you really want God to move in your life, you have to fast like this.”

People around him began to feel inadequate.

Some tried to imitate him and grew physically weak.

Others quietly felt like failures because they couldn’t keep up.

The focus in the community slowly shifted—from trusting God to measuring devotion by endurance.

But over time, something became clear: the young man was not becoming more patient, more loving, or more humble.

In fact, he had grown more proud and more critical of others.

This is what the Bible warns about in Colossians—practices that look wise, that feel intense and spiritual, but lack real power to change the heart.

Now let me be clear: Fasting can be good.

Discipline is necessary.

But when we start believing that our effort earns God’s favor, we’ve traded grace for performance.

God is not impressed by how hard we push our bodies.

He is concerned with the transformation of our hearts.

Let me suggest some areas of application.

First, test every spiritual practice by the word of God.

Just because a teacher quotes Scripture to make a point does not mean that he is correctly teaching the word of God.

When Paul and Silas were in Berea on Paul’s second missionary journey, they taught the Bereans the gospel.

We have a beautiful—and helpful—statement about the Bereans in Acts 17:11, where we read, “Now these Jews were more noble than those in Thessalonica; they received the word with all eagerness, examining the Scriptures daily to see if these things were so.”

Friends, if the Bereans checked the Apostle Paul to ensure that he was teaching the word of God accurately, then you had better check me—and every other teacher who teaches you the gospel.

And second, know the difference between a prescription and a description.

A prescription is  “the authoritative recommendation of an action or procedure.”

It is generally a command that must be obeyed.

On the other hand, a description is “a spoken or written account of a person, object, or event.”

It is an account of what took place, and is not necessarily a practice to be followed.

So, regarding fasting, there is no explicit command requiring Christians to fast.

However, there are descriptions of fasting.

One must not confuse a description with a prescription.

Often, that can prevent a lot of trouble and difficulty.

III. The Powerlessness of Self-Denial Religion (2:23b)

And third, look at the powerlessness of self-denial religion.

Paul writes of promoting self-made religion and asceticism and severity to the body in verse 23b, “…but they are of no value in stopping the indulgence of the flesh.”

Paul delivers the knockout blow: self-denial cannot kill sin.

Severe discipline, harsh treatment of the body, and rigid routines may temporarily restrain behavior, but they cannot transform the heart.

The flesh is not conquered by suppression but by replacement.

Early Christian ascetics fled to the desert to escape temptation.

Yet many wrote that the wilderness exposed their sin more intensely.

They discovered what Paul teaches: you can escape the world, but you cannot escape your heart.

Thomas Chalmers preached a sermon titled “The Expulsive Power of a New Affection” in 1819 at St. John’s Parish Church in Glasgow, Scotland, where he served as minister from 1815 to 1823.

Sinclair Ferguson has often said that this was the most powerful sermon ever preached in Scotland.

Thomas Chalmers argues that the human heart cannot be emptied of sinful desires by mere moral commands or self‑denial.

Some affection always rules the heart, and it cannot simply stop loving the world unless a stronger, more beautiful love takes its place.

Attempts to suppress worldly desires through fear, duty, or willpower ultimately fail because they do not change what the heart treasures.

True transformation comes only when the gospel reveals the surpassing worth of Christ.

As the soul beholds his grace, mercy, and loveliness, old desires lose their charm.

The love of Christ becomes the new, dominant affection that displaces inferior loves.

Chalmers insists that holiness grows not by restraining desire but by redirecting it—by cultivating a deeper delight in Christ that expels the power of sin.

Let me illustrate.

For years, a man named Marcus tried to beat his addiction to drugs by sheer willpower.

He made promises, cut off friends, deleted numbers, attended programs, and white‑knuckled his way through withdrawals.

Each attempt ended the same way—he relapsed.

He later said, “I could stop for a while, but the desire never left. The emptiness always pulled me back.”

Everything changed when a friend invited him to a small Bible study.

Marcus didn’t come looking for Jesus—he came because he was tired.

But as he heard the gospel week after week, something unexpected happened.

He said, “For the first time, I wasn’t just trying to get rid of drugs. I wanted Christ more than I wanted the high.”

He described it this way: “The cravings didn’t disappear because I fought harder. They lost their power because my heart was finally full.”

Marcus didn’t become free by subtracting desire but by gaining a greater one.

The expulsive power of a new affection did what self‑will never could.

That’s Chalmers’ point: the sinful loves of the heart aren’t expelled by willpower but by a superior affection—Christ himself.

Let me suggest one point of application.

To grow spiritually, use the means of grace rather than false religious practices.

The ordinary means of grace refer to the ministry of the word, the sacraments, and prayer.

These means of grace grow believers precisely because they give Christ himself.

Self‑made religious practices only give the illusion of growth.

The word reveals Christ.

The sacraments seal Christ.

And prayer seeks Christ.

These God‑given channels replace the exhausting treadmill of man‑made spirituality with real communion, real transformation, and real assurance.

That is why our pastors stress that your attendance at the Lord’s Day Worship Services is so vital for your Christian growth.

Christ is present in the Lord’s Day Worship Services, and when you engage in the ministry of the word, the sacraments, and prayer, you do so in ways better than anywhere else.

And the blessing for you is that because we have Sunday Evening Worship Services, there are opportunities to double your nourishment!

Conclusion

Paul’s message is clear: Man‑made religion cannot save, sanctify, or satisfy.

It can restrain the body but cannot renew the heart.

It can impress people, but cannot please God.

It can look spiritual, but it cannot kill sin.

Only Christ can.

Because you have died with Christ, you are free from the old order.

Because you have been raised with Christ, you have a new power.

Because you are united to Christ, you have a new identity.

True holiness is not achieved by human rules but received through divine union.

Christ is your righteousness.

Christ is your holiness.

Christ is your life.

Before Martin Luther understood the gospel, he lived under the crushing weight of medieval asceticism.

As a monk, he outperformed every rule, every ritual, every act of self‑denial the monastery required.

He slept on the cold floor without blankets.

He fasted until his body trembled.

He confessed sins for hours at a time.

He whipped himself, prayed endlessly, and tried to purge every impure thought.

He later said, “If ever a monk could get to heaven by his monkery, I would have been that monk.”

His fellow monks admired his zeal.

His superiors praised his discipline.

It all looked incredibly spiritual.

And yet—he had no peace.

No freedom.

No victory over sin.

No assurance of God’s love.

All his self‑made religion only made the chains tighter.

Then came the moment in the tower of the Wittenberg monastery when he read Romans 1:17and saw the truth: “The righteous shall live by faith.”

It was as if the door of his prison swung open.

The rituals had never freed him.

The rules had never changed him.

The asceticism had never restrained his flesh.

Christ did—instantly, powerfully, and permanently.

Luther’s story is the Reformation’s living commentary on Colossians 2:20–23.

Self‑made religion looks wise.

It feels serious.

It appears holy.

But it has no power.

Luther’s body was bruised, but his conscience was still in bondage.

Only when he turned from self‑made practices to Christ alone did he find the freedom he had been striving for.

Luther discovered what Paul declared: Self‑made religion can exhaust you, impress others, and torment your conscience—but it cannot change your heart.

Only Christ can.

So, my dear friend, if Luther’s story resonates with you, leave the monastery of man‑made rules.

Step out of the cell of self‑effort.

And walk in the freedom Christ has already won for you. Amen.