Colossiens 4:10-11

Aristarchus, my fellow-prisoner, saluteth you.

The salutations

I. The duty of salutation. The Greek word signifies either to embrace, as we are accustomed to do one who has been long absent, or to salute by word of mouth or letter. This salutation is the auspicious prayer of health and happiness from God the Author of all good. That this duty is not to be neglected by the Christian appears--

1. From the command of Christ (Matthieu 10:12).

2. From the uniform example of St. Paul.

3. From its manifold utility. For such a habit

(1) not only expresses the mutual happiness which ought to flourish among Christians, but promotes it.

(2) When flowing from a heart purified by faith and inflamed by love, brings down the wished-for blessing.

II. Inferences and lessons. Observe--

1. That the external duties of humanity, of which salutation is one, are diligently to be performed by pious men. Augustine says, “If any one should not salute him whom he may meet, he will not be accounted a man by the traveller, but a post.”

2. That they are to be performed not only in conformity with custom, but from love and pure charity. For he incurs the guilt of hypocrisy who salutes him whom he does not wish health and prosperity. So Judas saluted Christ (Matthieu 26:49).

3. That they sin who would have this duty of Christian charity to serve their pride and ambition. So the Pharisees loved salutations in the market places.

4. That they act basely who instead of saluting perform an act of adulation. (Bishop Davenant.)

Aristarchus

was a Thessalonian, and so perhaps one of Paul’s early European converts (Actes 20:4)

. He was a Jew, but like so many of his brethren of the dispersion, bore a Greek name. He was with Paul in Ephesus at the time of the riot, and was one of the two whom the excited mob dragged into the theatre to the peril of their lives. We next find him a member of the deputation which joined Paul on his voyage to Jerusalem. He was in Palestine with Paul, and sailed with him thence (Actes 27:2). Probably he went home to Thessalonica at some point of the journey, rejoining Paul subsequently. At any rate, here he is standing by Paul and enthusiastically devoted to his work. He receives here an honourable and remarkable title, “my fellow-prisoner.” Now it is to be noted that in the Epistle to Philemon, where almost all these names reappear, it is not Aristarchus but Epaphras who is honoured by this epithet, and that interchange has been explained by a supposition that Paul’s friends took it in turn to keep him company, and were allowed to live with him on condition of submitting to the same restrictions and military guardianship. There is no positive evidence in favour of this, but it is not improbable, and helps to give an interesting glimpse of Paul’s prison life, and of the loyal devotion which surrounded him. (A. Maclaren, D. D.)

Marcus--the John Mark of the Acts. He was once the subject of a sharp contention between Paul and Barnabas, which issued in the separation of these good men (Actes 15:37)

. On a missionary tour previous to that painful occasion, Mark had left them, perhaps unhandsomely (Actes 13:13); and Paul, to indicate his sense of Mark’s conduct, refused to take him with them on a subsequent occasion. Barnabas, being a near kinsman, may have been prejudiced in favour of his relative. What were the commands regarding him which the Colossians had already received it is in vain for us to conjecture. Mark evidently contemplated a journey which would lead him to Colossae, and the Colossians are here enjoined to give him a cordial reception. The apostle thereby intimates the restoration of Mark to his full confidence. The cloud under which his character for zeal had lain seems to have quite passed away. A single error, even in one engaged in the public ministry, is not enough to warrant the entire withdrawal of confidence. But why this mention of Mark in relation to a Church with which he had no special connection? It was at Perga in Pamphylia that Mark left the apostle, and as Colossae was not far away from the sphere of the subsequent labours of the missionaries, Mark’s defection and Paul’s displeasure could not fail to be generally known. It was beautiful and proper, therefore, that having in the interval seen reason to receive Mark again into favour, the apostle should make this change known, and give the Churches of Phrygia a charge to receive him with due confidence and cordiality as a faithful evangelist for Christ. (J. Spence, D. D.)

Jesus which is called Justus.

How startling to come across that name borne by this obscure Christian! How it helps us to feel the humble manhood of Christ, by showing us that many another Jewish boy bore the same name: common and undistinguished then, though too holy to be given to any since. His surname Justus, may perhaps, like the same name given to James, hint his rigorous adherence to Judaism, and so may indicate that like Paul himself, he came from the straitest sect of their religion into the large liberty in which he now rejoiced. He seems to have been of no importance in the Church, for his name is the only one in this context which does not re-appear in Philemon, and we never hear of him again. A strange fate his! to be made immortal by three words, and because he wanted to send a loving message to Colossae! Why men have striven and schemed and broken their hearts, and flung away their lives to grasp the bubble of posthumous fame; and how easily this good “Jesus which is called Justus” has got it! He has his name written for ever on the world’s memory, and he very likely never knew it, and does not know it, and was never a bit the better for it! “What a satire on “the last infirmity of noble minds!” (A. Maclaren, D. D.)

Who are of the circumcision.--These three men, the only three Jewish Christians in Rome who had the least sympathy with Paul and his work, give us in their isolation a vivid illustration of the antagonism which he had to face from that portion of the Early Church. The bulk of the Palistinian Jewish Christians held that the Gentiles must pass through Judaism on their road to Christianity, and as the champion of Gentile liberty Paul was worried and hindered by them all his life. They had next to no missionary zeal, but they followed him and made mischief wherever they could. If we can fancy some modern sect that sends out no missionaries of its own, but delights to come in where better men have forced a passage, and upset their work by preaching their own crotchets, we get precisely the thing which dogged St. Paul. There was evidently a considerable body of these men in Rome. They preached Christ of “envy and strife,” and only these three were large-hearted enough to take their stand by his side. It was a brave thing to do. Only those who have lived in an atmosphere of misconstruc tion can understand what a cordial the clasp of a hand or the word of sympathy is. These men were like the old soldier who clapped Luther on the shoulder on his way to the Diet of Worms with “Little monk! little monk! you are about to make a nobler stand to-day than we in all our battles have ever done. If your cause is just, and you are sure of it, go forward in God’s name, and fear nothing.” But the best comfort Paul could have was help in his work. He did not go about the world whimpering for sympathy. He was much too strong a man for that. He wanted men to come down into the trench with him, and shovel and wheel there till they had made in the desert a highway for the King. This is what these men did, and so were a comfort to him. He uses a half medical term, which, perhaps, he had caught from the physician at his elbow, which we might perhaps parallel by saying they had been a cordial to him--like a refreshing draught to a weary man, or some whiff of pure air stealing into a close chamber and lifting the curls from some hot brow. The true cordial for a true worker is that others get into the traces and pull by his side. (C. H. Spurgeon.)

Fellow-workers.--

Co-operation in work for Christ

Jesus sent out His disciples by twos, for He knew that each would cheer his fellow. Service is usually best in companionships: he who works altogether alone will be in his temper either too high or too low, censorious or desponding. Two are better far than one; they not only accomplish twice the work, as we might have expected, but they frequently multiply their power seven times by their co operation. Happy are those wedded souls whose life of love to their Lord and one another is like the cluster on the staff, which they joyfully bear along! Happy those Christian companions who share each other’s joys and sorrows, and so pass onward to the skies knit together as one man. Communication enriches, reticence impoverishes. Communion is strength, solitude is weakness. Alone, the fine old beech yields to the blast, and lies prone upon the sward; in the forest, supporting each other, the trees laugh at the hurricane. The sheep of Jesus flock together; the social element is the genius of Christianity. To find a brother is to find a pearl of great price; to retain a friend is to treasure up the purest gold. Between two upon a staff we find happiness. The monastic or hermit death-life is not our Master’s beau ideal, but holy companionship is His chosen means for affording us help in service and advance in joy. (C. H. Spurgeon.)

The power of combination

The house martin (Chelidon urbica)

, our common summer visitor to all parts of Europe, seems quite to understand that combination is strength. These birds possess some sort of intelligence with each other which enables them to combine their efforts to effect some desired purpose. Dupont de Nemours says--“I once saw a martin which had unfortunately, I know not how, caught its foot in the running knot of a thread, the other end of which was attached to a gutter of the College des Quatre Nations. Its strength being exhausted, it hung and cried at the end of the thread, which it raised sometimes by trying to fly away. All the martins of the great basin between the bridge of the Tuilleries and the Pont Neuf, and perhaps from a still greater distance, collected to the number of several thousands. They formed a cloud, all emitting cries of alarm and pity. After much hesitation and a tumultuous consultation, one of them invented a mode of delivering their companion, made the others understand it, and commenced its execution. All those that were within reach came in turn, as if running at the ring, and gave a peck to the thread in passing. These blows, all directed upon the same point, succeeded each other every second, or even still more frequently. Half an hour of this work was sufficient to cut through the thread, and set the captive at liberty.” No union of men for a common purpose could more completely illustrate the truth that combination is strength. (Scientific Illustrations.)

Valise of a faithful friend

One of the company despatched a servant for a lute, and on its being brought it had lost tune, as happens to these instruments when exposed to the changes of the atmosphere. While he was tightening the strings, Gotthold’s thoughts ran thus, “What is sweeter than a well-tuned lute, and what more delightful than a faithful friend who can cheer us in sorrow with affectionate discourse? Nothing, however, is sooner untuned than a late, and nothing is more fickle than a friend. The tone of the one changes with the weather, that of the other with fortune. With a clear sky and a bright sun you will have friends in plenty; but let fortune frown and the firmament be overcast, then they will prove like the strings of’ the lute, of which you tighten ten before you find one which will bear the tension or keep the pitch.”

How Christians may comfort others

When this church was being built I became acquainted with one of the carpenters--a plain man--who worked upon it, and I had many chats with him afterwards. That day, being a Christian (sometimes I am not one)

, when I met him, as he came down the street, I stopped and spoke to him, and shook hands with him. And giving me, as I noticed, a peculiar look, and keeping hold of my hand, he said, “Now, sir, you do not know how much good this does me.” “What?” said

I. “Well, your speaking to me and shaking hands with me.” Said he, “I shall go home to-night, and say to my wife, ‘I met Mr. Beecher to-day:’ Ah! ‘she will say, ‘what did he say?’ and the children will look up too. And I will tell them, ‘He stopped me and shook hands with me, and asked if I was getting along well:And they will talk about that for a week. You have no idea how much good it does a plain man to be noticed, and to be made to feel that he is not a nobody.” (H. W. Beecher.)