Homily 3 — Colossians 1, verses 15 to 20

“Who is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things were created, in the heavens and on the earth, things visible and things invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities. All things have been created through him and toward him; and he is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church.” [a]

Today I must pay the debt I put off yesterday, so that I could present it to your minds while they were at full strength. Paul, as we showed, is speaking of the dignity of the Son, and he says these words:

“Who is the image of the invisible God.” Whose image, then, do you want him to be? God’s? Then he is exactly like the one whose image you make him. If you mean a man’s image, say so, and I will have nothing more to do with you, as with a madman. But if he is God’s image as God and God’s Son, then he shows an exact likeness.

Why is it that no angel has anywhere been called either “image” or “son,” while man has been called both? Why? Because with the angels, the loftiness of their nature might soon have pushed most people into this ungodliness. With man, the humble and lowly nature is a safeguard against it: it will not allow anyone, even if they wanted to, to suspect anything of the kind, or to bring the Word down so low. For this reason, where the lowliness is great, Scripture boldly declares the honor; but where the nature is higher, it holds back.

“The image of the invisible” is itself invisible too, and invisible in the same way, or it would not be an image. For an image, insofar as it is an image, ought to be exactly similar, even among us — in the features, for example, and the likeness. Here among us, of course, this is not at all possible, for human skill falls short in many respects, or rather in all of them, if you examine it closely. But where God is, there is no error and no falling short.

But if he is a creature, how is he the image of the Creator? For a horse is not the image of a man either. If “the image” does not mean an exact likeness to the invisible God, what prevents the angels from being his image too? For they are invisible as well — though not to one another. The soul is invisible too. But if the soul is an image because it is invisible, it is an image only in that bare sense, and not in the way that he and the angels are images. [d]

“The firstborn of all creation.”

“What then? Look, he is a creature!” Where do you get that? Tell me. “Because he said ‘firstborn.’” But he did not say “first created”; he said “firstborn.” Then by that reasoning it would be right to call him many other things as well. He would have to be called our brother “in all things” too (Hebrews 2, verse 17). Must we then take away from him his being Creator, and insist that he is above us neither in dignity nor in anything else? Who with any understanding would say this? For the word “firstborn” does not express dignity or honor, or anything else, but time only.

What does “the firstborn” mean? “That he is created.” Very well. If that is so, the word also brings its kindred terms with it. But in any other case the firstborn is of the same being as those whose firstborn he is. Then he will be the firstborn son of all things — for it said “of every creature” — and so God the Word is the firstborn of stones too, and of me!

But tell me again: what do the words “firstborn from the dead” declare (Colossians 1, verse 18; Romans 8, verse 29)? Not that he rose first. For he did not simply say “of the dead,” but “firstborn from the dead”; nor “that he died first,” but that he rose as the firstborn from the dead. So they declare nothing else than this: that he is the firstfruits of the resurrection. Then surely it does not mean that in the passage before us either.

Next he goes on to the teaching itself. So that his readers would not think him a more recent being, because in former times people drew near through angels and now through him, he shows first that the angels had no power — otherwise it would not have been “out of darkness” (verse 13) that he brought us — and next, that he is before them as well. And as proof that he is before them, he uses this: that they were created by him. “For in him,” he says, “all things were created.” What do the followers of Paul of Samosata say to this?

“The things in the heavens.” He has put first what was in question. “And the things on the earth.” Then he says, “the visible and the invisible things”: invisible, such as the soul and everything that has come into being in heaven; visible, such as people, the sun, the sky. “Whether thrones.” He leaves alone what is granted and asserts what is doubted: “whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities.” The words “whether” and “or” take in the whole of things, and by naming the greater they show it of the lesser too. But the Spirit is not among the “authorities.”

“All things,” he says, “have been created through him and toward him.” See, “in him” means “through him”; for after saying “in him,” he added “through him.” But what does “toward him” mean? This: the existence of all things depends on him. Not only did he himself bring them out of nothing into being; he himself sustains them now, so that if they were cut off from his providence, they would at once come apart and be destroyed. He did not say, “He keeps them in being,” which would have been putting it in more physical terms, but the subtler thing: that they depend “on” him. Merely to be directed toward him is enough to keep anything in being and bind it fast.

The word “firstborn” is used in the same way, in the sense of a foundation. But this does not show that created things are of one being with him; it shows that all things exist through him and are held up in him. Paul too, when he says elsewhere, “I laid a foundation” (First Corinthians 3, verse 10), is speaking not of being but of working. So that you will not think him a mere servant, he says that he keeps them in being, which is no less than making them. Among us, in fact, it is even the greater thing. Skill can lead us to the making of a thing, but not to the keeping of it; it cannot even hold back a thing that is falling into decay.

“And he is before all things,” he says. This is fitting for God. Where is Paul of Samosata now? “And in him all things hold together” — that is, they were created toward him. He repeats these expressions one close upon another, and with their quick succession, as with rapid blows, he tears the deadly teaching up by the roots. For if Paul of Samosata sprang up so long afterward, even when such great things had been said, how much more would it have happened if these things had not been said beforehand? “And in him,” he says, “all things hold together.” How can things hold together in one who did not exist? So even the things done through angels are his doing.

“And he is the head of the body, the church.”

Having spoken of his dignity, he then speaks of his love for humankind as well. “He is,” he says, “the head of the body, the church.” He did not say “of the fullness” (though that too is meant), because he wanted to show his great friendliness toward us: that he who is so high, and above all, joined himself to those below. For everywhere he is first: first above; first in the church, for he is the head; first in the resurrection. That is, verse 18: “so that he might have first place.”

So he is first in birth too. And this is what Paul is chiefly trying to show. For if this is established — that he existed before all the angels — then it follows along with it that he did their works by giving them commands. And what is truly wonderful, he takes care to show that he is first in the later birth as well. Elsewhere, it is true, he calls Adam first (First Corinthians 15, verse 45), as indeed he is; but here he takes the church to stand for the whole human race. For he is first of the church, and first of human beings according to the flesh, just as he is of creation. That is why he uses the word “firstborn” here. [g]

What does “the firstborn” mean in this place? The one who was created first, or who rose before all; just as in the earlier place it means the one who was before all things. And here he uses the word “firstfruits,” saying, “who is the firstfruits, the firstborn from the dead, so that in all things he might have first place” — showing that the rest also are like him. But in the earlier place it is not the “firstfruits” of creation; there it is “the image of the invisible God,” and then “firstborn.”

Verses 19 and 20: “For it was the good pleasure of the Father that in him all the fullness should dwell; and, having made peace through the blood of his cross, through him to reconcile all things to himself, whether things on the earth or things in the heavens.” [i]

Whatever belongs to the Father, he says, belongs to the Son as well — and this with even greater force, because he both became one of “the dead” for us and united himself to us. He said “firstfruits,” as one speaks of fruits. He did not say “resurrection” but “firstfruits,” showing that he has consecrated us all and offered us up, as it were, as a sacrifice. Some take the word “fullness” to mean his being God, as when John said, “From his fullness we have all received.” That is, whatever the Son was, the whole Son dwelt there: not some kind of working, but his very being.

He gives no cause for it but the will of God; for that is the meaning of “it was the good pleasure … in him … and through him to reconcile all things to himself.” So that you will not think he took on the office of a mere servant, he says “to himself.” And yet elsewhere he says that he reconciled us to God, as in the letter he wrote to the Corinthians (Second Corinthians 5, verse 18). And he did well to say, “through him to complete the reconciliation”; for they had been reconciled already, but now, he says, completely, and in such a way that they would never again be at enmity with him. How? For not only the reconciliation was set forth, but also the manner of it.

“Having made peace through the blood of his cross.” The word “reconcile” shows the enmity; the words “having made peace” show the war. [k]

“Through the blood of his cross, through himself, whether things on the earth or things in the heavens.” It is a great thing to reconcile; that it should be through himself is greater still; and greater yet is how it was through himself. Through his blood. Through his blood — and he did not simply say his blood, but what is greater still, through the cross. So the wonders are five: he reconciled us; to God; through himself; through death; through the cross. Wonderful again! How he has woven them together! So that you will not think it is one thing only, or that the cross is anything by itself, he says, “through himself.” How well he knows that this was a great thing! For it was not by speaking words, but by giving himself up for the reconciliation, that he accomplished everything.

But what are “the things in the heavens”? It makes sense to say “the things on the earth,” for those were full of enmity and divided in many ways, and each one of us was completely at odds with himself and with the rest. But how did he make peace among “the things in the heavens”? Was there war and battle there too? Then how do we pray, saying, “Your will be done, as in heaven, so on earth” (Matthew 6, verse 10)? What, then, does it mean? The earth was divided from heaven; the angels had become enemies of human beings, because they saw the Lord insulted. “To sum up,” he says, “all things in Christ, the things in the heavens and the things on the earth” (Ephesians 1, verse 10).

How was this done? The things in heaven, in this way: he carried man up there; he brought up to them the enemy, the one they hated. He not only made the things on earth to be at peace; he brought up to the angels the one who had been their enemy and foe. Here was deep peace. After that, angels appeared on the earth again, because man too had appeared in heaven. And it seems to me that Paul was caught up for this reason (Second Corinthians 12, verse 2), and also to show that the Son had been received up there. On earth the peace was twofold: with the things of heaven, and among themselves. But in heaven it was single. For if the angels rejoice over one sinner who repents, how much more will they rejoice over so many!

All this God’s power has accomplished. “Why, then, do you put your confidence in angels?” he says. “They are so far from bringing you near that they were always your enemies, until God himself reconciled you with them. Why, then, do you run to them?” [l]

Do you want to know how great the hatred was that the angels had for us, and how averse to us they always were? They were sent to take vengeance: in the case of the Israelites (Exodus 23, verse 20), of David (Second Samuel 24, verse 16), of the people of Sodom (Genesis 19, verse 13), and at the Valley of Weeping. But it is not so now. On the contrary, they sang on the earth with great joy. He brought them down to human beings, and brought human beings up to them.

And notice, I beg you, the wonder in this. He first brought them down here, and then he took man up to them. Earth became heaven, because heaven was about to receive the things of earth. That is why, when we give thanks, we say, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will among people.” See, it says, even human beings were pleasing to him from then on. What is “good will”? Reconciliation. Heaven is no longer a dividing wall (Ephesians 2, verse 14). At first the angels matched the number of the nations (Deuteronomy 32, verse 8, in the Greek Old Testament); but now they match not the number of the nations, but the number of believers. How is this clear? Hear Christ saying, “See that you do not despise one of these little ones, for their angels always see the face of my Father who is in heaven” (Matthew 18, verse 10). For each believer has an angel. Even from the beginning, every one of those who were approved had his angel, as Jacob says: “The angel who feeds me and delivers me from my youth” (Genesis 48, verses 15 and 16, loosely quoted).

If, then, we have angels, let us behave with self-control, as though we were in the presence of tutors; for a demon is present too. That is why we pray, asking for the angel of peace, and everywhere we ask for peace, for there is nothing equal to it: peace in the churches, in the prayers, in the petitions, in the greetings. Once, twice, three times, many times, the one who presides over the church gives it: “Peace be with you.” Why? Because this is the mother of all good things; this is the foundation of joy. That is why Christ also commanded the apostles to say this at once as they entered houses, as a kind of token of the good things. For he says, “When you come into the houses, say, ‘Peace be with you.’” Where this is missing, everything is useless. And Christ said to his disciples, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you” (John 14, verse 27). This prepares the way for love.

And the one who presides over the church does not simply say, “Peace be with you,” but “Peace to all.” For what if we have peace with this person but war and fighting with another? What is the gain? In the body, if some of its elements are at rest and others at odds, health can never be kept up; it is kept only when all of them are in good order, harmony, and peace. Unless the whole of them are at rest and stay within their proper limits, everything will be overturned. And again, in our minds, unless all our thoughts are at rest, there will be no peace.

So great a good is peace that those who make it and bring it about are called sons of God (Matthew 5, verses 9 and 45) — and rightly, because the Son of God came to earth for this very purpose: to bring peace to the things on earth and the things in the heavens. But if the peacemakers are sons of God, those who make trouble are sons of the devil.

What are you saying? Do you stir up quarrels and fights? Does anyone ask who is so wretched? There are many who delight in evil, and who tear the body of Christ to pieces more than the soldiers pierced it with the spear, or the Jews who drove the nails through it. That was a lesser evil than this. Those limbs, pierced as they were, were united again; but these, once torn off, if they are not united here, will never be united, but will stay cut off from the fullness.

When you are minded to make war on your brother, remember that you are making war on the members of Christ, and stop your madness. What if he is an outcast? What if he is worthless? What if he is despised? This is what he says: “It is not the will of my Father that one of these little ones should perish” (Matthew 18, verse 14). And again: “Their angels always see the face of my Father who is in heaven” (Matthew 18, verse 10). For his sake and yours God even became a servant and was slain — and do you think him nothing? Surely in this too you are fighting against God, since you pass a judgment contrary to his.

When the one who presides over the church comes in, he says at once, “Peace to all.” When he preaches: “Peace to all.” When he blesses: “Peace to all.” When he bids you greet one another: “Peace to all.” When the sacrifice is completed: “Peace to all.” And again, in the middle: “Grace to you and peace.” How, then, is it not monstrous if, after hearing so many times that we are to have peace, we are feuding with one another; and if, receiving peace and giving it back, we are at war with the very one who gives it to us? You say, “And with your spirit.” And then do you slander him outside? Woe is me! The solemn customs of the church have become mere forms, and not a reality. Woe is me! The watchwords of this army go no further than being words.

That is also why you do not know why “Peace to all” is said. But hear what follows, what Christ says: “And into whatever city or village you enter … as you enter the house, greet it; and if the house is worthy, let your peace come upon it; but if it is not worthy, let your peace return to you” (Matthew 10, verses 11 and 13). So we do not understand, because we look on this as a mere figure of speech, and we do not agree to it in our minds. For is it I who give the peace? It is Christ who is pleased to speak through us. Even if at all other times we are empty of grace, we are not so now, for your sakes. For if the grace of God worked in a donkey and a diviner, for the sake of his arrangement and the good of the Israelites (Numbers 22), it is quite clear that it will not refuse to work even in us, but for your sakes will put up with even this.

So let no one say that I am a small and lowly man, not worth any consideration, and listen to me in that frame of mind. That is what I am. But it is always God’s way to be present even with such people, for the sake of the many. And so that you may know this: he consented to speak with Cain for Abel’s sake (Genesis 4), with the devil for Job’s (Job 1), with Pharaoh for Joseph’s (Genesis 41), with Nebuchadnezzar for Daniel’s (Daniel 2, verse 4), and with Belshazzar for the same man’s (Daniel 5). The Magi too received a revelation (Matthew 2); and Caiaphas prophesied, though he was the slayer of Christ and an unworthy man, because of the worth of the priesthood (John 11, verse 49). [q]

And it is said that this was the reason Aaron was not struck with leprosy. For tell me, why, when both had spoken against Moses, did she alone suffer the punishment (Numbers 12)? Do not be surprised. In the dignities of this world, even if ten thousand charges are brought against a man, he is not brought to trial until he has laid down his office, so that the office may not be dishonored along with him. Much more is it so with a spiritual office. Whoever he may be, the grace of God works in him, for otherwise everything is lost. But when he has laid it down — whether after he has departed this life, or even here — then indeed, then he will suffer a heavier punishment.

Do not think, I beg you, that these things come from us. It is the grace of God that works in the unworthy, not for our sakes but for yours. Hear, then, what Christ says: “If the house is worthy, let your peace come upon it” (Matthew 10, verses 13 to 15). And how does it become worthy? “If they receive you” (Luke 10, verse 8), he says. “But if they do not receive you, nor hear your words … truly I say to you, it will be more bearable for the land of Sodom and Gomorrah on the day of judgment than for that city.” [r]

What good is it, then, that you receive us and do not hear what we say? What is the gain in waiting on us and taking no notice of what is said to you? This will be honor to us, this the service worth admiring, profitable both to you and to us: if you listen to us. Hear Paul too, saying, “I did not know, brothers, that he was the high priest” (Acts 23, verse 5). Hear Christ too, saying, “Whatever they tell you to observe” — that is, “observe and do” (Matthew 23, verse 3).

It is not me you despise, but the priesthood. When you see me stripped of it, then despise me; then I will no longer presume to give you orders. But as long as we sit on this throne, as long as we have the first place, we have both the dignity and the power, even though we are unworthy. If the throne of Moses was held in such reverence that for its sake they were to be listened to, much more is the throne of Christ. We have received it by succession; from it we speak, ever since Christ entrusted to us the ministry of reconciliation.

Ambassadors, whatever kind they may be, enjoy great honor because of the dignity of an embassy. Just look: they go alone into the heart of the barbarians’ land, through the middle of so many enemies; and because the law of embassy has great power, everyone honors them, everyone looks on them with respect, everyone sends them on their way in safety. And we too have now received a word of embassy, and we have come from God; for this is the dignity of the office of bishop. We have come to you as ambassadors, asking you to end the war, and we tell you on what terms. We do not promise to give cities, or so many measures of grain, or slaves, or gold, but the kingdom of heaven, eternal life, fellowship with Christ, and the other good things, which we cannot even describe to you as long as we are in this flesh and in the present life. [s]

Ambassadors, then, is what we are, and we want to be honored — not for our own sakes, far from it, for we know how worthless that is, but for yours: so that you will listen earnestly to what we say, so that you will be benefited, and so that you will not attend to what is said listlessly or with indifference. Don’t you see how everyone pays court to ambassadors? We are God’s ambassadors to human beings. But if this offends you, then not we, but the office of bishop itself; not this man or that, but the bishop. Let no one listen to me, but to the dignity of the office.

So let us do everything according to the will of God, so that we may live to the glory of God and be counted worthy of the good things promised to those who love him, through the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom be glory and power and honor, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.