The Magnificent Obsession

Fixing Our Hearts on the Word

A few years ago, Paul Cain coined the term "making Jesus the magnificent obsession of the heart." It is indeed an emotive phrase, but I wonder if we can extend it to making the Word of God the magnificent obsession of the heart. Some of the old guard will feel their hackles rising, assuming that people are being encouraged to worship the Bible—but not at all. Scripture itself is a road to Emmaus that points us, on every page, to God.

"Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God." – Colossians 3:16 (ESV)

There’s something remarkable about obsession; it drives us, shapes us, captivates our attention, and subtly rewires our desires. Whether we admit it or not, our hearts were made to be consumed by something—something bigger, deeper, and richer than the trivial pursuits, social media, and Netflix series that often fill our days. Here, in this verse, Paul calls us to an obsession like no other: Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly. Not casually or occasionally, but richly.

What we have to understand is that this isn’t just a suggestion. It’s not a nice idea for those who have extra time or a deeper spiritual appetite. It’s life. Real life. The Word is not just printer's ink on a flimsy page, nor is it merely historical wisdom or theological insight. The Word is a person—Jesus, the living, breathing, active revelation of God Himself. Staggering!

We don’t just read the Word; we consume it, inhale it, and live by it. The truth is, we are starving without it. Jesus, when tested in the wilderness, didn’t say, “Man shall thrive by bread alone, but the Word is a nice supplement.” No. He said, “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.” (Matthew 4:4)

Live by the Word. This is survival—oxygen for the soul—yet how often do we treat it like an optional side dish instead of the feast that it is?

When we read Scripture with determination, with longing, with a hunger that refuses to be satisfied by anything less, we aren't just gaining knowledge; we're encountering Christ. The Word became flesh and dwelt among us (John 1:14), and He still dwells—right here, in these pages, in these promises, in these stories of grace and redemption. Avoiding legalism, if the Bible is so full of life, encouragement, affirmation, and equipping—why would anyone (Christians included) not want to read it? It comes down to choice.

But obsession? It takes effort. Determination. A relentless pursuit that refuses to let distraction win. Life is noisy, cluttered; it’s a constant stream of notifications, worries, and demands that pull us in a hundred directions. Sadly, when we neglect the Word, we drift—slowly, silently. One moment, we’re fine, and the next, we’re lost—wandering, disconnected, hungry for something we can’t even name.

On the flipside, when the Word dwells in us richly, everything changes—dramatically. It teaches us, shapes our worldview, and recalibrates our affections. It reorients our wandering hearts, admonishing us—convicting, correcting, and calling us back when we've drifted. It fills our mouths with songs, our hearts with gratitude, and our lives with deep, unshakable joy.

The Word doesn’t just inform. It radically transforms.

And the rewards? They’re beyond anything this world could offer—peace for the anxious soul, strength for the weary, wisdom for the uncertain. But most of all, there is Jesus—alive in the pages, speaking through the words, calling us deeper, further, closer.

This kind of obsession doesn’t happen by accident, with you drifting into it—it takes resolve and a reordering of your life, rearranging your priorities, and choosing—again and again—to feed on the Word when everything else competes for your attention. The reason for this is that whatever we feed our hearts will eventually consume us.

So the question is—what’s consuming you?

Letting the Word dwell richly isn’t just about reading more, or studying harder, or adding another spiritual habit to the list. It’s about stepping consistently into the very thing you were created for: communion with the living God, allowing His voice to be louder than all the others. And it’s about seeing Jesus—not as a distant figure, but as the very obsession of your heart.

When He becomes the centre, the anchor, the obsession—everything else finds its proper place.