Rev. Doug Floyd

Pentecost +7 2025
Rev. Doug Floyd
Colossians 1:21-29

Paul is writing the Colossians about the majesty, the glory, the hope of Jesus Christ.

To speak of Christ is to burst into song. For He is the source of all beauty.

Two weeks ago, Christopher explained that he was preaching an ordinary sermon to ordinary people living in ordinary times. He went on to introduce the ordinary the town of Colossae. It is forgotten. Not excavated like many ancient towns. It is a pile of rocks.

Markus Barth points out that “there is good reason to believe that Colossae was one of the least important places to which documents that were later canonized were ever sent.”[1]  Least important places. The Gospel bears fruit in one of the Least important places.

In today’s passage, Paul writes, “And you, who once were alienated and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds….”[2] Alienated. Hostile in mind. Doing evil deeds.

Alienated has the sense of the stranger, the other. In his 1916 novella, Franz Kafka writes about a man who wakes to find himself transformed into an insect. Some people think he’s a cockroach. Kafka calls him a “monstrous vermin.” The family does not want to see him. They slide his food under the doorway. When he dies, they sweep him out to the curb with other refuse. Talk about alienation. It is said that when Kafka read his stories to friends, they all laughed. Maybe in their laughter they recognized the absurd role of modern man.

Alienated. Insignificant. Hostile. Doing evil deeds. The people of Colossae could relate. They were insignificant people living in an insignificant town. They would live and die and be forgotten. They were not people of the covenant. A people far off.

And yet, Epaphras tells them about Jesus Christ. He shares the hope of the gospel, which has been proclaimed in all creation. Just as Psalm 19 declares, “The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork.[3] They could not hear this glorious song of creation. They were blind and deaf to the goodness of God and followed useless superstitions that often led into all manner of ungodliness.

And yet, Epaphras tells them about Jesus Christ. And they have ears to hear. Jesus condescends into their own insignificance. He names them. Brings them near into the covenant. Covers them with His love. Through His body broken on the cross, He redeems them, delivers them from the domain of darkness and into the kingdom of light and love. He will present them blameless before the Father.

Paul proclaims this Gospel and suffers for doing so. But this is a suffering that brings joy. Epaphras carries this Gospel that Paul proclaims to the alienated people of Colossae. The ancient mystery from before the world began has now been revealed. And it is good news.

As Paul describes this mystery which God has made known in Ephesians, “which [God] set forth in Christ as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth.”[4]

Last week, Fr. Les told us that “the cross affects all creation.” This Good News of Jesus Christ and his life, death, and resurrection is embedded into every fiber of creation. This glorious truth rings out through the whole cosmos. And yet this plan was hidden until the Father’s perfect time. The ancient Jews couldn’t see. The angels longed to peer into it. This glorious song has been revealed to the lowest of the lowly.

As G.K. Chesterton sings, “Glory to God in the lowest.” The God on High who dwells in a high and holy place has come down to the lowest. In Jesus Christ, He steps into the lives of the alienated, the stranger, the forgotten, the forsaken, the weary, the broken. He takes hold of those who have fallen through the cracks of life and into the dragon’s mouth. He grabs them out of sin and death and raises them up, up, up to glory. To joy. To beauty. To love.

As I sit with these words, I am reminded of the insignificant ones in our world. Think of the children dying of starvation in the Sudan, Nigeria, Gaza, and so many other places. Think of the victims of never-ending wars. Think of the abused. The weary. The tired. Those on the verge of giving up. Think of yourselves.

Yes, we are blessed to live in a prosperous and mostly peaceful country. And yet, we also know suffering, loss, pain.

In the grand scheme of things, we are also insignificant. We will live and die. Within a generation or two, we will be forgotten. We suffer in this life. We struggle. Feel abandoned at times. Some of us know first-hand the feeling of alienation. In fact, Kafka’s story The Metamorphosis many relate to the alienation of the main character. How many have said, “I am the only one who knows this suffering.”

Think of the supposed great people walking the earth today. Those who occupy the halls of power. They are fading even now. They will fade to dust and be forgotten. Think of the famous people throughout history. Julius Ceasar who ruled the empire of Rome. His own senators killed him. We know very little of him.

Only a few names from each era of history are remembered, and still, they are but ghosts in our imagination. Ancient Israel would see them as ghosts dwelling in the darkness of Sheol. No voice. No power. No one.

Now we long to be important. We long to be recognized. We long for glory. Some athletes call themselves “Greatest of All Time” that is G.O.A.T.. They are fading even now.

We are fading even now. We might turn to ancestors for glory. But even if we have some great and glorious ancestors, we can be sure we also have some robbers, some brigands. Most of us have descended from one or another tribal groups in Europe or elsewhere. Think of the savagery of ancient tribes. Think of the savagery of Ancient Rome. Augustine said that it was an empire founded on blood lust.

What I am trying to say is that we, like the Colossians were once alienated, hostile in mind, doing evil deeds. At times, we still feel the deep pain caused sin and death inherent in our families, our jobs, our country, and our world.

We are the forgotten ones who God has not forgotten. He has come to us in our lowly estate to reveal the mystery of Jesus Christ in us, the hope of glory. He names us, remembers us. Our significance is in Him. Jesus has raised us up in His love. We are growing from glory to glory in Christ. Our eyes and ears are opening to the song of God’s love that enlivens all things.

The mystery of all creation has been revealed to us. It is not a math formula. It is not the secret to wealth. It is not great power. It is Jesus. He has come to reconcile all things to God. Once we behold this mystery, we realize that every page of Scripture bears witness to Jesus. Every blade of grass bears witness to Jesus. He is the mystery at the heart of all things. Love pulses through all the cosmos.

The Welsh have sung of this glory since they first came to faith in Christ. Saunders Lewis sings of this glory as he looks at the pine trees by lake on a dark night. At the same time, he sees the promise of Christ in this pastoral scene. If we visualize his image of the moon rising over the valley, we see an image of the Host being raised in the Eucharist. We see an image of Christ. He writes:

The lake of the night is still in the valley,
In its windless trough;
Orion and the Dragon sleep on its leaden face,
The moon rises slowly and swims drowsily in her way.

Behold now the hour of her ascension.
Immediately you shine before her with the lance of your leap
From root to tip under her journey
Shooting to the heart of darkness like the Easter Candle under its flame:
Hush, the night stands about you in the cool chancel
And the bread of heaven crosses the earth with its blessing.[5]

Here’s one more Welsh poet. Bobi Jones sings praise of God as he sits before the fire with his family.

Hell is fire; then there’s a fire that’s Heaven
In a grate amidst the children. We draw close around it
And listen to the beating of its orange wings
Against the breeze that’s gathered the invisible
Confidential cooking of the hearth.
The fire from the sky, it broke through the rain
And alighted like a bird upon the kitchen altar.
And the mother caught it like Noah’s dove
Between her two hands and offered it becomingly.

Which of us who listen to it can help but hear
The warm melody of the kettleful of family?
In bed, between the mother and myself,
God is warm; and His place at the table’s filled.
He is the Musician we hear coming
From room to room in secret.
It is His music heats the house
Gurgling through feet and blood, to rise,
Smokeless, to our half-drunk heads.

Only those who know the sunshine know the beauty
That breaks across the mat between door and cupboard.
It pierces to the marrow of all laughter patiently
Like a tune that lingers round the edges of the mind
Or a cat curling up. Our song’s purring, the love
That’s been composed so cunningly, that’s been performed
On the harpstrings of the family fires through Him.[6]

Everywhere we turn, we see glimpses of His goodness and grace. All creation bears witness to goodness of God revealed in Christ. Let us go forth this week, asking for eyes to see and ears to hear His love and beauty.

As we read Scripture, walk outside, meet people in the store, at work or even at the doctor’s office, may we realize His love is all around us. May we become minstrels, singing of the glory of God in Christ revealed all through the Bible and all through creation. As we behold glimpses of His love. We might write a poem, sing a song, prayer a prayer, and even dance a jig. We might learn to rejoice in the goodness of God.

To speak of Christ is to burst into song.

I end with a beloved prayer from the ancient Celts.

May Christ be with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ within me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me, Christ to my right, Christ to my left, Christ where I lie down, Christ where I sit, Christ where I stand, Christ in the heart of everyone who thinks of me, Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks to me, Christ in every eye which looks on me, Christ in every ear which hears me.[7]

[1] Markus Barth, Helmut Blanke, and Astrid B. Beck, Colossians: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary, vol. 34B, Anchor Yale Bible (New Haven;  London: Yale University Press, 2008), 10.

[2] The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Col 1:21.

[3] The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Ps 19:1.

[4] The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Eph 1:9–10.

[5] Saunders Lewis, The Pine

[6] Bobi Jones, Selected Poems, translated by Joseph Clancy, Swansea: Christopher Davis (Publishers) Ltd, 1987, p. 73.

[7] John Carey, King of Mysteries: Early Irish Religious Writings, Dublin: Four Courts Press, 2000, p. 128.