Meditations

Colossians 1:15-17 (NRSVue)

15 He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation,

16 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.

17 He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together.

The letter to the church at Colossae is attributed to the apostle Paul during one of his imprisonments, primarily due to the mention of imprisonment in v. 4:3 (“At the same time, pray for us as well, that God will open to us a door for the word, that we may declare the mystery of Christ, for which I am in prison.”) However, scholarship on the authorship of the letter to the Colossians has also suggested that it may have been written by someone other than Paul because the letter – both in style and content – is significantly different from the other prison epistles (Ephesians and Philippians) and is much more like the other personal prison epistle, Philemon.

Whether the letter was written by Paul or not, this passage is beautiful and elegant. It may be an extension of Paul’s thought – either his own or one of his followers writing after his death – which builds on the elegance articulated in Philippians 2:5-11 (see my meditation Jesus Chris is Lord). Paul’s words in Philippians are echoed here, in Colossians, when he draws this image that – in the Second Person of the Trinity – all things across the cosmos are created and hold together.

One of the great mysteries of the Christian faith is how such a being would come to walk among us in the humble man depicted in this image. In a humble first-century Jewish apocalypticist, that being would come to be with us and share in our struggles. Not to exist in some lofty other-wordly reality, but among us as flesh and bone. Further, in this man, all powers, dominions, rulers and thrones are created and not for themselves, but for him. In this humble man, all authority in heaven and on earth resides.

And, yet, he allowed himself to suffer and die at our hands. What love is this? When he – who held all power at his disposal – instead pronounced, in his dying breath, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 23:34). Rather than calling down wrath and judgment, he took judgment onto himself. He did not pour it out but, rather, in love took that wrath into himself and was buried with it. Most mortals, in that moment of anguish and suffering, having that authority at their hands, they would have lashed out and exacted vengeance. But not him. Not this man. Not this humble, simple man. No; he took that pain and suffering, that power that could have been turned against us, and took it to his grave.

This image is intended to capture that simple man, standing by the shore of the Sea of Galilee. Were we to have a camera or smart phone, perhaps an image captured in a moment of candidness would have seen a man like this, living, loving, and serving others. May this image – and the knowledge that in this man was “the invisible image of God, the firstborn of all creation” – sit and abide with you. May it fill you with love for him and the whole cosmos – which is his – which he himself sustains and holds together – even you – and call you into ever greater communion with him. For, in him, you are.

Philippians 2:5-11 (NRSVue)

5 Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,

6 who, though he existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be grasped,

7 but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, assuming human likeness. And being found in appearance as a human,

8 he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death – even death on a cross.

9 Therefore God exalted him even more highly and gave him the name that is above every other name,

10 so that at the name given to Jesus every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth,

11 and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

The letter to the church at Philippi is short but important. It was written by Paul to the church at Philippi, which was the first Christian church in Europe, planted there by Paul on his second missionary journey (Acts 16). Paul – who had been ministering in Asia Minor (present day Turkey) was given a vision of a man calling him to come to Macedonia and minister to them there (Acts 16:9,10). Philippi was a city that had been conquered by the father of Alexander the Great – Philip II – and was on one of the most important trade routes going through Macedonia, the Via Egnatia. It was, at the time of Paul, an important trading center. Paul established the church there and, as is seen in Philippians 1:3, it held an special place in his heart.

This passage, from chapter 2, is especially powerful. Philippians is one of the “prison epistles”; letters that were written by the apostle while under arrest (the other three are Ephesians, Colossians, and Philemon). Paul had been placed under arrest in Jerusalem (Acts 21), but had been transferred to Ceasarea, which was the seat of power within the province of Judea (Acts 24). (The Romans kept their procurator in Ceasarea, not Jerusalem.) Ultimately, Paul is transferred several times, finally appealing – as was his right as a Roman citizen – to an audience with the Emperor – Nero – himself! In Acts 28, Paul finally arrives in Rome.

In the first chapter of Philippians, Paul states, “I want you to know, brothers and sisters, that what has happened to me has actually resulted in the progress of the gospel, so that it has become known throughout the whole imperial guard and to every else that my imprisonment is for Christ” (vv. 12, 13). We can infer from this that Paul had likely written this epistle while in captivity in Rome for the word that Paul uses to reference the “imperial guard” is praetorio, meaning the Praetorian Guard, who were the personal protectors of the emperor himself.

Paul had seen a number of leaders, both Gentile and Jew. He had appeared before the Roman procurator Antoninus Felix and his successor, Porcius Festus, and the Jewish king, Herod Agrippa II. He had likely appeared before Nero himself; the very pinnacle of Roman power. He had witnessed human “leadership”, power, and authority. It is in this backdrop that he writes these verses in the second chapter. He contrasts Jesus to these human leaders, many who had seized power through devious means or used their offices for their own personal advancement, glory, and wealth.

When Paul states that “Christ Jesus, who, though he existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, assuming human likeness” (vv. 5-7), the word he uses for “grasped” is harpagmon. This word, in Greek, has the connotation not just of “grasping” something but seizing it, plundering it. In other words, Paul is saying, “Jesus did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself (Paul uses the word meaning “poured himself out”), taking on the form of a slave.” How radical to first-century ears. Jesus – who was equal to God – did not exploit that position but, rather, took the most powerless form possible in the first-century world. He humbled himself, as it says in v. 8, and became obedient even to the point of death and death on a cross.

Power has been a struggle for humanity since before history. History is replete with the examples of the corrupting effect of power. Greed, control, and manipulation typically characterize human leadership. God’s call to humanity – in the example of Christ – is that leadership comes not from exploiting position, not from seizing it, not from using it to advance one’s own agenda. Rather, godly leadership, the leadership that is the example of Christ himself, comes from being obedient to God and allowing one’s self to be a servant to others.

“Servant leadership” is a term that is used extensively in leadership circles since the first article – written by Robert Greenleaf in 1970 – coined the term in his essay “The Servant as Leader”. However, what Paul is talking about here is not “servant leadership” but “emptying leadership”. Leadership that seeks not to acquire power for itself but to give power to others. Leadership that is characterized not by exalting one’s self, but by exalting God and God’s kingdom.

In our modern times, we equate power with wealth, prestige, and authority. Yet, we find – in Paul’s passage here – that that is not what God equates to true power. Authority that seeks to seize power and take it from others, power that was seen all to regularly in the Roman Empire, if not our own times, is not the authority that God grants. Rather, it is the obedient doulos – slave to and for others – who is obedient to God and humble whom God exalts.

Paul closes this passage with the clearest vision of God’s vindication of Jesus when he writes, “Therefore God exalted him even more highly and gave him the name that is above every other name, so that at the name given to Jesus every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” Jesus is the ultimate and final authority; not because it was his by right but because it was bestowed by the Father in vindication of his obedience and humility.

As Paul implores the Philippians in v. 5, “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus.” May we find, in ourselves, the ability to be obedient and humble, not seizing power, not exploiting position, not taking advantage of privilege, but empty ourselves and, in doing so, give witness to the kingship of our Lord.

This image is meant to capture the moment that someone would experience when bending their knee to look into the eyes of Christ himself while proclaiming him Lord. We can only begin to imagine what such a moment would be like, but the intent is to capture him considering the viewer while the light of God radiates from above. The crown is also evocative of his original crown composed of thorns but now gilded as would suit a king.

All rights to the image and meditation are reserved to the artist.

If you are interested in exploring any merchandise featuring this image and a translation of Philippians 2:9-11, please click here. A portion of the proceeds of all sales are directed towards global missions through the General Board of Global Ministries of The United Methodist Church and the United Methodist Committee on Relief.

18 Once when Jesus was praying alone, with only the disciples near him, he asked them, “Who do the crowds say that I am?”

19 They answered, “John the Baptist; but others, Elijah; and still others, that one of the ancient prophets has arisen.”

20 Then he said to them, “But who do you say that I am?” Peter answered, “The Messiah of God.”

Luke 9:18-20 (NRSVue)

“But who do you say that I am?” A question that has resounded through history…

This account of Jesus and his disciples is found in the gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke. In all three, this story – what is often called a pericope – occurs in about the mid-point of each gospel. The events preceding this moment mark the beginning of Jesus’s ministry, especially the calling of the disciples, performing his initial miracles, and feeding the masses. It is at this point that Jesus begins to reveal more of who he is and what his ministry is ultimately about – ushering in the Kingdom of God through his ministry, death, and resurrection – to the disciples. Peter’s confession – as this is often termed – is followed in the gospel according to Matthew by Jesus’s declaration that Peter’s recognition of him was insight that came from God, not from his own reasoning. Jesus then goes on to say that his Church would be built upon Peter’s leadership.

What did it mean to be the Christ? The Messiah? That’s a very complex question.

First, it is important to understand the the word Christ – christos in Greek (the language of the Christian Scriptures) – was a literal translation of the Hebrew word Messiah, which meant “anointed one”. It came from the idea of maika meshiha (King Messiah) in Aramaic, which was the language spoken by Jesus and the disciples. The Anointed One was the one who was understood to have been anointed by God to establish God’s Kingdom on earth and redeem God’s people, Israel. In so doing, the Messiah would usher in the eschaton, or End of the Age. The Messiah was believed to be from the line of kings from David and would, in ushering in the Kingdom of God, becomes its King.

Peter’s confession of Jesus as the Christ, the Messiah, the Anointed One of God, is a turning point in the gospels. In all three accounts, Jesus quickly admonishes the disciples to share this revelation with no one. He advises them to keep this knowledge to themselves. Why? What was Jesus hoping to accomplish with telling them to share this with no one.

Just after this pericope is the story of the Transfiguration of Jesus. The Transfiguration – called metamorphosis, in Greek, in Mark and Matthew – is the account where Jesus is revealed in all his glory to Peter, James, and John on the mountain when they had gone up to pray. In this account, Moses and Elijah – two of the greatest religious leaders of the Jewish people – appear with Jesus, talking with him. In these accounts, Jesus’s clothes and face are transformed before their very eyes and he “glowed” or radiated the glory of God. In this account, Jesus demonstrates that he is God. (In the Jewish writings of the Talmud and Midrash, God’s Spirit – ruach haqodesh – was believed to be a sign of the most holy persons. It was said to “dwell” or “inhabit” a person, termed the shekinah of God.) In the account in the gospel according to Luke, Moses and Elijah are talking with Jesus about his exodus, which “he was about to fulfill in Jerusalem” (Luke 9:31) (NRSVue). In the accounts in Matthew and Mark, Jesus and the disciples are then surrounded by a great cloud and a voice pronounces, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” (Mark 9:7b) (NRSVue).

In between Peter’s confession and the Transfiguration, Jesus shares with the disciples that he must suffer, be rejected by the priests and elders, killed, and, subsequently, resurrected. The disciples – especially Peter – are shocked by such a declaration and – as it is said in the gospel of Mark – Peter rebukes Jesus for saying such a thing. In other words, Peter has words with Jesus! Jesus immediately rebukes Peter for trying to keep him from the path he had to travel.

Why did Peter rebuke Jesus for even suggesting that he had to suffer and die and, subsequently, be resurrected? Because, quite frankly, that was not – at all – what first-century Jewish people expected of the Messiah. How could the King who was to usher in the Kingdom of God and create an End Time that would see the reign of God on earth die? The reign of God was supposed to be characterized by all people acknowledging their God as the only, true God. How could that King be rejected by his own people, ultimately being killed. What kind of King was this? This is why Jesus tells the disciples to not share his identity with anyone. They would have expectations of him that were inconsistent with what the call on his life was. In so doing, they might also try to dissuade him from this path or – more likely – force the issue sooner than in the timing that God intended.

Yet, Peter’s recognition that Jesus was the Anointed One, the Messiah, the Christ, was exactly right. It was confirmed to Peter, James, and John in the Transfiguration. But, what that meant – in the minds of the disciples – was not what God was working through the world. The King would not be crowned with gold but with thorns. The throne would be a cross. His robe would be gambled over by the very soldiers carrying out the sentence. This is not what a King looks like. It is not regal. It is not a glorious spectacle with pomp and pageantry. It is a scandal. A man hung naked upon a cross; likely defecating and urinating on himself in the process of dying a tortured and agonizing death.

This isn’t what any first-century Jew would have understood to be a King. Quite frankly, it’s not what we ourselves would imagine a King to look like, let alone how kings’ are consecrated.

Yet, that is the very person God came to be. In the epistle (letter) to the church in the city of Philippi, the apostle Paul wrote that “Christ Jesus, who, though he existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, assuming human likeness. And being found in appearance as a human, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death – even death on a cross.” (Philippians 2:5-8) (NRSVue). Note, the word that Paul uses in this letter for “form” is morphe; the same word that, when combined with meta- in Matthew and Mark is the change in form that Jesus underwent at the Transfiguration.)

God came to be with us; walk among us; suffer with us; suffer at our hands; allow himself to be killed by us. Why? What God would do that?

Ultimately, we find the answer to this question in multiple areas of Christian Scripture but I believe is best summed up in John 3:16-21. (It is insufficient, in my opinion, to only focus on the most common and popular verse, 16.) “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world but in order that the world might be saved through him. Those who believe in him are not condemned, but those who do not believe are condemned already because they have not believed in the name of the only Son of God. And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil. For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed. But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God.” (NRSVue)

God came to bring us the light, to bring us Love. It was not to condemn; rather it was to show us who God is. It was to show us how God calls us to be in the world. It was to show us that the path we are to walk is like Jesus’s. We are to love. We are to serve. It is not to condemn but to demonstrate. In that demonstration of Love, the evil of the world is shown for what it is. It is this light which drives out that very evil itself. Ultimately, in his resurrection from the dead, God vindicates Jesus, his ministry, his suffering, and his death, showing that he was – in fact – Messiah, Christ, the Anointed One, and that his path of love, humility, and service is the path all God’s children are to take.

The question that was offered to the disciples by Jesus in that moment, “But who do you say that I am,” has been asked continuously across the ages since the moment that Jesus first uttered it to those disciples. Jesus calls to each generation and each being and asks the same question, “Who do you say that I am?” Answering the question, much like Peter did, by confessing him as Savior, Lord, Master, Christ, Messiah, Anointed One, is but a beginning. Just as the disciples had misconstrued what that meant – as evidenced by their denial of his own words that he must suffer – we often misconstrue and misunderstand what it means, as well. We misunderstand what the mean and what they mean for us who profess them.

We are to be the light, the Love, ourselves. We are to offer ourselves in service to a world that may reject that light and Love. But, just as with Christ, we are called to suffer for their sake, that these deeds may be done in God, in truth.

What say you? Who do you say he is?

This image was created by the artist and is intended to imagine the moment when Jesus has posed that question that continues down to us this day, “Who do you say that I am?” It is intended to capture that moment when Jesus asks and waits for their response. What will they say? Will they understand? How will they react? Just as with them, God waits for us to offer our answer and choose whether or not this is who God is, who God has revealed God’s Self to be, and follow the path, the way, the truth that Jesus showed us. So, you are asked, again, “Who do you say that I am?”

All rights to the image and meditation are reserved to the artist.

If you are interested in exploring any merchandise featuring this image and a translation of Luke 9:20, please click here. A portion of the proceeds of all sales are directed towards global missions through the General Board of Global Ministries of The United Methodist Church and the United Methodist Committee on Relief.