Heard of this Hope

Who emails anymore? Well, some do, of course. Paul and other epistle writers would have used any method of communication to share the message they brought. Maybe we can think of email as a place to enlarge the conversation. We can go a little deeper, invite serious thinking, and seek input and responses to the ideas and plans put forth. Is it possible to hear the gospel as an invitation to engage in dialog? Are we allowed to ask questions and consider the implications and applications of what we read or hear? Certainly! That’s what it means to be engaged as the “Dear Children of God.”

Preaching Notes

We continue in the epistles for part two of the “Dear Children of God” series, asking what message we need to hear today and in what format. An email now seems quaint as it was once cutting-edge. Yet, it still gives space to tell a story, explain a situation, or unpack a thought.

To help us, we have the first fourteen verses from the letter to the Colossians. This little letter will be our guide for this second part of the series. Not considered one of the highlights of the New Testament, it is nonetheless useful for our purposes. There is some debate as to whether Paul wrote this epistle. Frankly, I don’t know either. But I’ll take the easy way and talk about Paul anyhow. It seems simpler that way.

We are in the first chapter of the letter. The usual greetings begin the letter, and then the promise of prayers takes the stage. In those prayers is the call to live—a life of fruitfulness, presence, and hope in Christ. “You have heard of this hope,” Paul writes. It is as if he were saying, “You know this; you’ve walked in this; this hope is what motivates you and defines you. It is a part of you.”

Then, there is a reference and commendation to another leader, Epaphras, a pastor who taught, cared for, and helped the community in Colossae and is now the source of information for Paul. Or is he the one writing this letter?

Then, he picks up the missive with a transition. “For this reason” is not a beginning place. It is not the launch of a journey or the start of an adventure. Rather, it is more like continuing. Another day, another step, just keep going.

“For this reason” means what Paul heard about them. He heard that they loved one another and that they loved him in the Spirit. He heard that they bore fruit, that they served and helped and healed and taught. He heard that they lived lives worthy of the gospel. And because of that, because of the love that lived in them and came forth from them, Paul praised God for them and asked that God continue to pour into them all that they needed to live. Paul prayed that they might have wisdom and understanding, the knowledge of God’s will and that they would keep growing and moving forward.

But it was the middle verse and a bit that caught my attention. “May you be made strong with all the strength that comes from his glorious power, and may you be prepared to endure everything with patience, while joyfully giving thanks to the Father...” (v.11-12a). Some words in there describe the life of the ordinary Christian, at least as I understand it. These words put the hope into action in each life. They incarnate hope, we might say.

First, Paul prays for them to be strong. May you be made strong with all the strength that comes from his glorious power. Wow, all the strength that God’s power can bestow! All the strength. God’s glorious power is for changing the world, isn’t it? It is for mighty deeds and feats of faithfulness that take the breath away of any onlooker. Be strong with all the strength. Superman level here.

So, what is to be done with this strength? “Endure with patience.” Wait, what? Endure? If you’ve got all the glorious power of God, all the strength that comes from him, you’re going to do more than endure, aren’t you? Endure sounds like surrender. Endure sounds like put up with, outlast, tolerate, wade through, stomach - as in, “I’ve got to stomach this medicine that’s horrible but good for me.” Endure. But then Paul makes it worse: endure with patience. Yikes, we can’t even grumble about our messy, unfair, heavy, and burdensome lives. We’ve got to endure with patience.

But he doesn’t stop there. Endure with patience while joyfully giving thanks. Oh, my heavens. Endure and be joyful? Is such a thing possible? I mean, I know how to endure and let everyone know I’m enduring, looking for brownie points or sympathy. But now, I’m supposed to endure and be joyful? I’m supposed to endure without dwelling on the burden, but giving thanks for life, giving thanks with joy? How is that supposed to happen?

By remembering whose we are. By remembering who is with us. Joyfully giving thanks to God means being aware of that presence. It means remembering the hope of which we have heard. It means knowing that we are not alone, not forgotten, not abandoned. Joyfully giving thanks to God means that we know that our help comes from the hills, as the Psalm says, the hills where God dwells. I lift up my eyes. Enduring with patience and joy means being able to lift up your eyes.

We are also reminded that this presence is most often felt through the community of faith around us. That’s the inheritance of the saints of light, not just those who have gone before, but those who are around us every day, every week, when we gather to sing God’s praise and bask in God’s glory—the glory that shines from the faces of the faithful who walk with us every single ordinary day.