Colossians 1:15-28

He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation, for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers—all things have been created through him and for him. He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together. He is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that he might come to have first place in everything. For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross.

And you who were once estranged and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, he has now reconciled in his fleshly body through death, so as to present you holy and blameless and irreproachable before him, provided that you continue securely established and steadfast in the faith, without shifting from the hope promised by the gospel that you heard, which has been proclaimed to every creature under heaven. I, Paul, became a minister of this gospel.

I am now rejoicing in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am completing what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church. I became its minister according to God’s commission that was given to me for you, to make the word of God fully known, the mystery that has been hidden throughout the ages and generations but has now been revealed to his saints. To them God chose to make known how great among the gentiles are the riches of the glory of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory. It is he whom we proclaim, warning everyone and teaching everyone in all wisdom, so that we may present everyone mature in Christ.

Sermon Text

A few weeks ago, although you all would not know this, I preached a sermon on idolatry.[1] In it I came very hard against visual depictions of God. Despite this, I am not truly an iconoclast. I have art all over my parsonage – some of it is secular and strange and others are sacred and intentional. In my son’s room I have an icon of Mary holding an infant Christ, a reminder that Christ, who was an infant, cares for my infant son. Likewise, I have a picture of Christ triumphant outside my bedroom, a reminder at bedtime that whatever problems I have can wait till the morning, for Christ has overcome the world.

The imagery we use for God is important, lest we misrepresent God in art or media. The truth is, however, that any image of God is unnecessary, because we have already received the greatest and most perfect image of God. Christ is the “image,” (in Greek eikon (εικον,) of the invisible God (that is God the Father.) In seeing Christ, we see God, one is essentially identical to the other.  We do not have to speculate about the nature of God if we are able to see who Christ is and to understand what Christ does.

The question we have to ask then is how we can engage with who Christ is. What is necessary to know more of what Christ is like? How may we uncover the fullness of God, and, having done this, find ourselves transformed more fully into the image of God? We need to see how we are able to see God face to face in our own lives and take full advantage of Christ’s proximity to us. This should sound familiar, because this is the idea we started to consider last week. To put it in a single question: How do we fully enjoy the presence of God?

There are three primary, ordinary ways that we encounter God in our day to day life.[2] The first is in the scriptures, the second in prayer, and the third in our celebration of the sacraments – especially communion. When we engage with these means of grace and especially when we enjoy them together, we see God – in glimpses – face to face. I do not think we can rank these in terms of importance, but I would like to look at them each for a moment, and hopefully we can acknowledge that even the most obvious way we meet God only takes on meaning when we engage with it intentionally.

Scripture, the way most of us learn about Christ, seems like it would be the easiest way for us to look at who God is. Reading through the Gospels we can read Christ’s own words, see the things he endured, and the life he lived. Each of these paints a picture of God’s priorities in the world. When Christ stands against unjust authorities, we see that God opposes the abuse of power. When Christ cares for the poor, we know that they are given as an inheritance for us to care for as well. In teachings, in miracles, in work after work, we are shown the character of God through what is revealed to us about Christ in the Gospels.

The thing about scripture, though, is that it is far more expansive than just the Gospels. We have the entirety of the Hebrew Scriptures – the Torah, the Prophets, the Writings of God’s people – all of these reveal God and, almost equally important, how God’s people knew God in times of abundance and in times of trouble. Beyond this, the New Testament is much more than the gospels. The book of Acts tells the story of the Church in its infancy – its first miraculous successes and its first tumultuous failures are recorded across just a few dozen pages. The letters of Paul, Peter, John, and all the others tell how these people from all manner of backgrounds and lives found a way to be the people of God in this world. Scripture, in recording the work of God and of God’s people, is so much more than a list of what Jesus said and did.

We understand scripture, and truly the wider fullness of life, only if we temper it with a good measure of prayer. Everyone close your eyes and answer truthfully with a hand in the air: How often do you pray? Daily? Twice a day? Three or more times a day? Final question: Do you take intentional time to pray, or do you just pray when you have time? Ok, hands down eyes open. I ask all these questions because we are asked to, “Pray without ceasing.” And if you are anything like me you are not anywhere near ceaseless prayer.[3] Prayer is one of the most fruitful ways that we can connect with God, transform our perspective, and shape our heart, but it is often one of our most underutilized.

Christ prayed constantly, disappearing for what seems to be hours at a time just to have uninterrupted access to the Father in prayer. Wesley, in his covenant service, gives the specific injunction for Methodists to, “set apart some time, more than once, to be spent alone before the Lord.” This time needs to be intentional, because without that intentionality we will not develop actual virtue through prayer, not even a habit of prayer. If we only pray when we happen to remember, then we will make prayer, and therefore God, a part of our life only during our spare moments.

In my personal life, I have made steps to set aside intentional time for prayer at least once a day. I take that time to pray for at least five things in my life I am presently concerned with. I also end that time of prayer with a prayer thanking God for the good things in my life and then I sing a hymn. For me, this highly structured format has worked to make me more prayerful in general, and it has changed how I pray outside of my end of day examen. I would encourage you, if you do not have a program of prayer, make one. It will make you better at praying generally.

The final place we ordinarily see God is in the sacraments. We Methodists hold to two sacraments – baptism and the eucharist – and otherwise believe in various “sacramental,” parts of life. In baptism we are greeted by God’s grace which has been with us our entire life as we join the Church universal, in the eucharist we are taken to the moment Christ broke bread with his disciples for the last time, we stand at the foot of the cross, we see the empty tomb, we anticipate his coming again to set all things right. In the eucharist, all of time and space are compressed into a single phrase, “Do this in remembrance of me.”

In the elements of bread and wine, we are transported into the presence of Christ. The first part of our scripture speaks to the various works of God, and in the eucharist we see them laid bare for us: Christ as creator, as incarnate God, as willing sacrifice, as triumphant and risen savior, and as eternal and ever living redeemer. In all ways that we can understand Christ, the eucharist stands out as being representative of everything that Christ is. We are not called to rank the way Christ appears to us, but in this I personally find the most obvious presence of Christ in my life.

How will we know if this all works? How will we know that we have seen Christ and begun to look more like him in our way of being? The answer comes at the end of our scripture for the day. Paul, having seen and fully acknowledged Christ’s true self, Christ’s true nature, becomes a suffering servant like Christ had been before him. Can we take on the mantle of suffering servants? Are we willing to give up our comfort and our abundance for the good of others? I hope we are, because that is the only true response to God’s grace we can take and still be obedient to Christ. The icon of the Father, the true face of God is ready to meet us here and now. Will we follow him to the cross? Or will we just wither away on our own? – Amen.

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[1] John Langenstein. “Golden Calves, Bronze Serpents,” 03/23/25 available at: https://teachusto.com/2025/03/23/sermon-03-23-2025-golden-calves-bronze-serpents/

[2] This idea is adapted from Wesley’s Sermon The Means of Grace. Available at: https://wesley.nnu.edu/john-wesley/the-sermons-of-john-wesley-1872-edition/sermon-16-the-means-of-grace/

[3]  Thessalonians 5:16