27

July 2025

Jul

Made You Alive

Dear Children of God: Part 2

Seventh Sunday after Pentecost, Year C

How have you encountered God in the fullness of who you are—body, mind, and spirit—in this church community?

“How your email found me.” You’ve seen those memes. I’m sure. Some image of someone hiding, beaten up, drowning, or in some desperate situation and the words, “How your email found me” scrawled across the border. Is it a commentary on the average worker’s state of mind or a nod to the shallow state of corporate etiquette that causes an email to begin, “I hope this email finds you well”? Or maybe, it’s just a bit of fun, and to overanalyze it is to ruin the joke. Yeah, that one, most likely.

But Paul, or whoever wrote the letter to the Colossians, really means it when he says, “I hope this email finds you well.” And to prove that he really means it, he doesn’t just hope we are well, he tells us how we are. Like a doctor who can diagnose you from a distance, he reads your vitals in ways that no one ever has before. Like a counselor who knows the secrets in your inner being, knows your past and your hang ups and your potential, he sets your feet on a path that will lead to your flourishing. Now you’re wondering how he knows you that well, and you can’t help but be skeptical. There are far too many people who think they know you when they don’t. Too many people who think they can read your soul, know your thoughts, and then prescribe just what you need to be better, stronger, smarter, prettier, whatever. We’re right to be skeptical.

If you take another look at the text, however, even if you include the extended bit (verses 16-19), you’ll see that Paul isn’t asking us to do anything except stay the course. No, he isn’t selling anything here. The text is an invitation to see what has already been done; to see yourself through the eyes of the one who loved you more than you can comprehend. Here’s the secret, however: Paul doesn’t know you. But he knows that one, the one who loves you, the one who made you alive.

That is the life we are called to keep living: the alive life. That is what we all want, isn’t it? To be alive. Not just living, but alive. And this email, this letter, finds us alive. That’s what Paul is saying as he writes. But he wants us to be aware of this life, this aliveness. He wants us to embrace the gift we’ve been given, to live to our potential as fully alive ones. He wants us to be rooted in the teaching, in the knowledge of the faith shared by so many and in so many ways. We become more aware of that rootedness when we live a life of gratitude. “Abounding in thanksgiving” is how Paul describes it. The fully alive person knows what is owed to others, knows how interwoven we all are. That’s one of the marks of being fully alive – gratitude.

Living this indebtedness allows us to be strong in our faith, to hold fast to those roots. It will be harder to be taken captive by deceit and worldly philosophies. This doesn’t mean, however, that we won’t need to learn and grow in our faith, understanding, and wisdom. It isn’t about being calcified in belief or opinion, but about holding on to certain truths while encountering an ever-changing world and growing deeper in understanding what it means to be fully alive in Christ.

What doesn’t change is the fundamental understanding that we have been redeemed. Actually, Paul (or someone!) argues it much more powerfully by saying that we have been raised from the dead. That, of course, ties into the theme of being made alive. We were dead, and now we are alive. While there is drama in that process, we don’t have to make it a production. Yes, there are those whose redemption stories are dramatic, and we are stirred by the transformation that takes place in their lives. The edge of the cliff rescue, the come back from addiction or disaster are powerful stories of the power of faith and new life and need to be shared when and where they can.

Yet, each one made alive is worth celebrating. There are many sitting in your sanctuaries who haven’t had a dramatic conversion event and, therefore, might be led to believe that their experience is not as significant, not as testimony-worthy. They may even question whether they have claimed the aliveness that Colossians talks about. But, of course, every life, every transformation is worth celebrating. You were made alive! You! And let’s not overlook the daily transformation that takes place when we once again claim the Christ who loved us into life. In response to those who might ask, “When were you saved?” we can sincerely say, “This morning! Again.” We are continually being saved, being transformed into life.

In the end, our text argues, the only thing that brings this aliveness is the Christ at work in us. There are various practices, however, that can open our eyes and hearts to that divine work within us. But the key word here is various. Some disciplines have long histories of effectiveness; some practices are needed to bring a sense of belonging and community, and others are uniquely suited to various personality types. But none are transformative in and of themselves. Paul argues against those who say you must engage in this practice or perform those disciplines to be a “true” follower of Jesus. These practices are good and helpful and healing, but they are not the substance of our faith. The substance, says Paul, belongs to Christ (Col 2:17 NRSV). Our call is to hold fast to the head, to Christ, in all things. And then to know life, abundant life.