Beloved of God,

“Hold it together, Erik,” the voice said.  Turns out, it was my own.

“Hold it together” is a key phrase in my self-talk lexicon.  An appropriate one, too, at those times when I have so many balls in the air I have to struggle to avoid dropping them all.  The phrase is made of equal parts encouragement and judgment.  The encouraging part says: “It’s not too late, Erik.  Just chill.  Pull back now and you can regain your balance; you can do it.”  The judgment part says:  “Here we go again…I can’t believe you’ve allowed yourself to be in this same situation again for the umpteenth time!”

Sometimes the voice carries the overtones of a parent or teacher, coach or boss I’ve known.  But most of the time I recognize it as my own voice, warning me that the steering’s about to go out and I’m not buckled in; that I’m approaching a limit, coming to an edge, about to lose my balance.  The problem is, by the time that voice pops up, it’s often too late.  Like old Wily Coyote, in his famous battles with Roadrunner, my feet have left terra firma and are frantically peddling out in midair. Then gravity takes over…you get the picture. If I could only HOLD THINGS TOGETHER!

When Paul addresses the congregation at Colossi, he uses a huge canvas to paint with broad, sweeping strokes, his portrait of Christ.  With the lyric of an early Christian hymn as his muse, he throws bold colors across the page:

In case you haven’t got it, says Paul, Christ Jesus is God’s instrument for reconciling ALL THINGS in heaven and on earth, and God gets it done—alarmingly, amazingly, ironically, dumbfoundedly—through the cross.

Coming at the tail end of the church’s year, November is a month in which we behold the sweeping promises of God coming to fruition in the lives of the saints, in St. Paul’s testimony to a community that’s worried sick about the future, and in the figure of the One who, from the cross, declares—“Today you will be with me in Paradise.”  Paul’s testimony to the Colossians on Christ Reigns Sunday, the final Sunday of the Christian year, is a profound reminder that while we can’t ever seem to hold our lives together, the Crucified and Risen One does.  And not only our lives but ALL THINGS.

As tempting as it is to become curved in on oneself and think “it’s all about me,” it’s not.  Our failures—no matter how frequent or colossal—are no match for the grace God pours out upon us in Christ Jesus. God’s purpose and plan are much greater than we can imagine!  We get little snippets, glimpses of what God has in store through the testimony of scripture, but scripture is not exhaustive by any means.  As Paul says elsewhere,

“Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor human heart conceived, what God has prepared for those who love him.”[1] 

The upshot?  We are LOVED, dear ones, with a LOVE that far outstrips our ability to comprehend.  A LOVE that encompasses and, finally, overwhelms the crises—large or small—that populate our days.  Christ calls us through the waters of baptism to wade in that LOVE, and at the Table to eat and drink it so that we may become one with it, with him.

Live in that LOVE, won’t you, with me?

Pastor Erik