Homily 4 — Colossians 1, verses 21 to 25

“And you, who were once enemies and alienated in your mind, in your evil works, yet now he has reconciled in the body of his flesh through death, to present you holy and without blemish and beyond reproach before him.” [a]

Here he goes on to show that Christ reconciled even those who were unworthy of reconciliation. By saying that they were under the power of darkness, he showed the disaster they were in (verse 13). But so that when you hear of “the power of darkness” you would not think it was compulsion, he adds, “And you, who were alienated.” So although he seems to be saying the same thing, he is not. It is not the same thing to rescue from evils someone who came to suffer them by compulsion, and someone who endures them by his own will. The first deserves pity; the second deserves to be hated.

Nevertheless, he is saying, you who sprang away from him not against your will or under compulsion, but willingly and by your own choice, and who are unworthy of it — you he has reconciled. And since he had mentioned “the things in the heavens,” he shows that all the enmity began from here, not from there. For they had long been willing, and God also; it was you who were not willing.

All through this he shows that the angels had no power in all the ages that went before, since human beings remained enemies. The angels could neither persuade them nor, if they had persuaded them, rescue them from the devil. Persuading them would have gained nothing unless the one who held them was bound; and binding him would have been of no use unless those he held were willing to return. Both were needed, and the angels could do neither. But Christ did both.

So persuading them is even more marvelous than undoing death. The one was wholly his own work, and the power for it lay entirely in himself; but the power for the other lay not in him alone, but in us as well. And we accomplish more easily the things whose power lies in ourselves. That is why, as the greater of the two, he puts it last.

And he did not simply say “were at enmity,” but “were alienated,” which means deep enmity; and not only “alienated,” but alienated without even any hope of returning. “And enemies in your mind,” he says. Had the alienation, then, gone only as far as intention? No — what then? “In your evil works” as well. You were enemies, he is saying, and you did the works of enemies.

“He has now reconciled in the body of his flesh through death, to present you holy and without blemish and beyond reproach before him.” Again he sets out the way the reconciliation came about. It was “in the body”: not by his being merely beaten, or scourged, or sold, but by his dying the most shameful of deaths. Again he mentions the cross, and again he sets out another benefit. For he did not only “rescue” us; as he said above, “who has made us fit” (verse 12), and he points to the same thing here too. “Through death,” he says, “to present you holy and without blemish and beyond reproach before him.” [b]

For truly, he has not only freed us from our sins; he has also placed us among the approved. He did not suffer such great things only to free us from evils, but so that we might also win the first prizes — as if someone were not only to free a condemned criminal from his punishment, but also to promote him to honor. And he has ranked you with those who have not sinned; or rather, not only with those who have done no sin, but with those who have done the greatest righteousness. And, what is truly a great thing, he has given the holiness that stands before him, and the being beyond reproach. Now “beyond reproach” goes a step further than “without blemish”: it is when we have done nothing either to be condemned for or even to be charged with.

But since he had credited the whole thing to Christ, because it was through his death that he accomplished all this, someone says: “What is it to us, then? We need do nothing.”

That is why he added verse 23: “If indeed you continue in the faith, grounded and steadfast, and not moved away from the hope of the good news.”

Here he strikes a blow at their sluggishness. And he did not simply say “continue,” for it is possible to continue while wavering and shifting; it is possible to stand and continue while being turned this way and that. “If indeed you continue,” he says, “grounded and steadfast, and not moved away.” Wonderful! What a forceful image he uses! He says not only that they must not be tossed to and fro, but that they must not even be moved. [c]

And notice: so far he lays down nothing burdensome or laborious, only faith and hope — that is, if you go on believing that the hope of the things to come is true. This, surely, is possible. But when it comes to living virtuously, it is impossible to avoid being shaken about, even if only a little. So what he commands is not hard.

“From the hope of the good news,” he says, “which you heard, which was preached in all creation under heaven.” But what is the hope of the good news, if not Christ? For he himself is our peace, who has done all these things. So anyone who credits them to others is “moved away,” for he has lost everything unless he believes in Christ.

“Which you heard,” he says. Again he brings them in as witnesses themselves, and then the whole world. He does not say “which is being preached,” but which has already been believed and preached. He did the same at the start (verse 6), wanting to strengthen these people too by the witness of the many. “Of which I, Paul, was made a minister.” This also helps to make it believable. “I,” he says, “Paul, a minister.” For his authority was great, since by now he was celebrated everywhere and was the teacher of the world.

Verse 24: “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and fill up on my part what is lacking of the afflictions of Christ in my flesh, for the sake of his body, which is the church.”

And how does this connect? It seems not to be connected, and yet it is closely connected. “A minister,” he says — that is, bringing in nothing of my own, but announcing what belongs to another. I believe so firmly that I even suffer for his sake; and not only suffer, but rejoice in suffering, looking to the hope that is to come. And I suffer not for myself, but for you.

“And I fill up,” he says, “what is lacking of the afflictions of Christ in my flesh.” It seems a great thing for him to say. But it does not come from arrogance — far from it! — but from his deep and tender love for Christ. He will not have the sufferings be his own, but Christ’s, because he longs to win these people over to Christ. What I suffer, he is saying, I suffer on his account; so do not thank me, but him, for it is he himself who suffers. It is as if someone sent to a certain person were to make a request of another, saying, “Please, go to this person for me,” and the other were then to say, “It is on his account that I am doing it.” So Christ is not ashamed to call these sufferings his own as well. For he did not only die for us; even after his death he is ready to be afflicted for your sakes.

Paul is eager, intensely eager, to show that even now Christ is exposed to danger in his own body for the church’s sake. And he is aiming at this point: you are not brought to God by us, but by him, even though we are the ones doing these things; for the work we have undertaken is not our own, but his. It is as if a company of soldiers had a leader appointed to protect it, and it was standing in battle; and then, when he had gone, his second in command were to take over his wounds until the battle was brought to an end.

Next, listen to how he shows that he does these things for Christ’s sake too. “For the sake of his body,” he says, clearly meaning this: “It is not you I am doing a favor, but Christ. The things he would have had to suffer, I suffer in his place.” See how many points he establishes! He shows how great the claim on their love is. [d]

In his second letter to the Corinthians he wrote, “He has committed to us the ministry of reconciliation” (Second Corinthians 5, verse 20), and again, “We are ambassadors on behalf of Christ, as though God were pleading through us.” So here too he says, “I suffer for his sake,” so as to draw them all the more to him. That is: though the one who is in your debt has gone away, I repay it.

For this reason too he said “what is lacking”: to show that even now he does not consider that Christ has suffered everything. “For your sake,” he says; and even after his death Christ suffers, since there still remains something lacking. He does the same thing in another way in the letter to the Romans, when he says, “Who also makes intercession for us” (Romans 8, verse 34), showing that Christ was not content with his death alone, but even afterward does countless things.

He does not say this, then, to exalt himself, but because he longs to show that Christ is still caring for them even now. And he shows that what he says is believable by adding, “for the sake of his body.” That it is so, and that there is nothing unlikely in it, is plain from the fact that these things are done for the sake of his body. See how closely he has joined us to himself! Why, then, bring in angels in between? “Of which I was made a minister,” he says. Why bring in angels besides? “I am a minister.” [e]

Then he shows that he himself had done nothing, even though he is a minister. “Of which I was made a minister,” he says, “according to the arrangement of God that was given to me for you, to fulfill the word of God.”

“The arrangement.” Either he means: God willed that after his own departure we should take over the arrangement, so that you would not feel deserted — for it is he himself who suffers, he himself who acts as ambassador. Or he means this: that I, who was a persecutor more than anyone, was allowed to persecute for this very purpose, so that my preaching might be believed. Or by “arrangement” he means that God did not require deeds, or actions, or good works, but faith and baptism; for otherwise you would not have received the word.

“For you,” he says, “to fulfill the word of God.” He is speaking of the Gentiles, and by the expression “fulfill” he shows that they were still wavering. That the outcast Gentiles should have been able to receive such lofty teachings was not Paul’s doing, but God’s arrangement. “For I could never have had the power,” he is saying. Having shown the greater thing, that his sufferings are Christ’s, he next adds what is plainer, that this too is from God: “to fulfill his word in you.”

And he hints here that this too belongs to God’s arrangement: that it is spoken to you now, when you are able to hear it, and that this comes not from neglect, but so that you may receive it. For God does not do everything all at once; he stoops down to meet us, because of his abundant love for humankind. And this is why Christ came at this time and not long ago. He shows in the Gospel that it was for this reason he sent the servants first, so that they would not go on to kill the Son. For if they did not respect the Son even when he came after the servants, much less would they have done so had he come sooner. If they paid no attention to the lesser commandments, how would they attend to the greater?

What then? someone objects. “Are there not Jews even now, and Greeks, who are in a very imperfect state?”

This, however, comes from an excess of sluggishness. For after so long a time, after such great instruction, still to remain imperfect is proof of great stupidity.

So when the Greeks say, “Why did Christ come at this time?” let us not allow them to talk that way, but let us ask them whether he did not succeed. If he had come at the very beginning and had not succeeded, the timing would not have been enough of an excuse for us; so, since he has succeeded, we cannot justly be called to account on the score of “the time.” No one demands that a doctor who has removed a disease and restored a patient to health give an account of his treatment; nor does anyone closely question a general who has won a victory about why he fought at this time and in this place. These would be fair questions if he had not been successful; but when he has succeeded, such things must simply be taken for granted.

For tell me, which is more worthy of belief: your reasoning and your slander, or the complete success of the thing? Did he conquer, or did he not? Show me that. Did he prevail, or did he not? Did he accomplish what he said, or not? These are the points to examine.

Tell me, please: you fully grant that God exists, even if you do not grant it of Christ? Then I ask you: is God without beginning? You will say, “Certainly.” Then tell me, why did he not make human beings tens of thousands of years earlier? They would have lived for a longer time. They were losers by all the time during which they did not exist. No, they were not losers; but how, only he who made them knows. Again I ask you: why did he not make everyone at once? The soul of whoever was made first has so many years of existence, and the one not yet created is deprived of them. Why did he bring one into this world first, and another afterward?

These things are indeed fit subjects for inquiry, yet not for prying curiosity; and this question is not one for inquiry at all. Still, I will tell you the reason I spoke of. Imagine human nature as one continuous life. In the earliest times our race was at the stage of boyhood; in the times that followed, of manhood; and in these times, which are near extreme age, of an old man. Now when the soul is at its full maturity, when the limbs of the body have gone slack and our war is over, then we are brought to philosophy. [i]

“But on the contrary,” someone may say, “we teach boys while they are young.” Yes, but not the great teachings. We teach them rhetoric and skill with words, and the other things once they have come to maturity.

See God doing the same with the Jews. Just as if the Jews had been little children, he set Moses over them as a schoolmaster, and as with little children, he managed things for them through shadowy figures, the way we teach letters. “For the law had a shadow of the good things to come, and not the very image of the things” (Hebrews 10, verse 1). We buy cakes for children and give them coins, asking only one thing of them: that for now they go to school. In the same way God at that time gave them both wealth and luxury, buying from them with this great indulgence only one thing: that they listen to Moses. That is why he handed them over to a schoolmaster, so that they would not look down on him as a tender, loving Father.

See, then, how they feared Moses alone. They did not say, “Where is God?” but “Where is Moses?” And his very presence was frightening. So when they did wrong, notice how he punished them. God wanted to cast them off, but Moses would not allow him. Or rather, the whole thing was from God, just as when a father threatens and the schoolmaster pleads with him, saying, “Please forgive them for my sake, and from now on I will answer for them.” In this way the wilderness was a school.

And as children who have been at school a long while want to leave it, so they at that time kept longing for Egypt and weeping, saying, “We are lost, we are wholly consumed, we are utterly undone” (Exodus 16, verse 3). And Moses broke their tablet, after writing certain words on it for them, so to speak (Exodus 32, verse 19). He did just what a schoolmaster would do who picks up the writing tablet, finds it badly written, and throws the tablet itself away, wanting to show great anger; and if he has broken it, the father is not angry. For he was busy writing, but they were not paying attention to him; they had turned away in other directions and were causing disorder. And as in school children hit one another, so on that occasion he told them to strike and kill one another.

Again, having given them lessons to learn, so to speak, he would then ask for them, and when he found they had not learned them, he would punish them. For example: what were the writings that pointed to the power of God? The events in Egypt? “Yes,” someone says, “but those writings depicted the plagues, showing that he punishes his enemies.” And for them it was a school. For what else was the punishment of your enemies but your benefit? And in other ways too he did you good. It was just as if a child said he knew his letters, but when questioned out of order got them wrong, and was beaten. In the same way they said they knew the power of God, but when their knowledge was tested out of order they could not show it, and so they were beaten.

Have you seen water? You ought to remember the water in Egypt. He who made blood out of water will also have the power to do this. We often say the same to children: “When you see the letter A in a book, remember that you had it on your tablet.” Have you seen famine? Remember that it was he who destroyed the crops! Have you seen wars? Remember the drowning! Have you seen that those who live in the land are mighty? But they are not mightier than the Egyptians. He who brought you out of the midst of them, will he not much more save you now that you are out? But they did not know how to answer their letters out of order, and so they were beaten.

“They ate,” and drank, “and kicked” (Deuteronomy 32, verse 15). When they were fed with their manna, they ought not to have asked for luxury, since they had known the evils that come from it. They acted exactly as if a freeborn child sent to school were to ask to be counted among the slaves and to wait on them — which is what these did in seeking Egypt — and, while receiving all the food he needed, such as befits a free person, and sitting at his father’s table, were to long for the foul-smelling, noisy table of the servants.

And they said to Moses, “Yes, Lord, all that you have spoken we will do, and be obedient” (Exodus 24, verse 7). And as happens with desperately bad children, when the father wants to put them to death and the schoolmaster keeps pleading for them, so it was at that time too.

Why have we said these things? Because we are no different from children. Would you like to hear that their teachings too were those meant for children? “Eye for eye,” it says, “and tooth for tooth” (Leviticus 24, verse 20). For nothing is so eager for revenge as a childish mind. Since this is a passion of unreason, and at that age there is much unreason and a great lack of thought, it is no wonder that a child is ruled by anger as by a tyrant. And the tyranny is so great that often, after stumbling and getting up again, children will strike their knee in their passion, or knock over the footstool, and so soothe their pain and quench their rage. [n]

In some such way God dealt with them too, when he allowed them to strike out “eye for eye, and tooth for tooth,” and destroyed the Egyptians and the Amalekites who had troubled them. And he made promises of this kind — as if a child were to say, “Father, so-and-so hit me,” and the father were then to reply, “So-and-so is a bad man; let us hate him.” So also God says, “I will be an enemy to your enemies, and I will hate those who hate you” (Exodus 23, verse 22).

And again, when Balaam prayed, the way God stooped down to meet them was childish. When children are frightened by something that is not frightening, like a tuft of wool or anything of that sort, and are suddenly alarmed, we bring the thing right up to their hands and have their nurses show it to them, so that the fear will not stay with them. So God did too: since the prophet was a terror to them, he turned their terror of him into confidence. And as children who are being weaned have all sorts of things in little baskets, so he also gave them everything, and delicacies in abundance. Still the child longs for the breast; and so these too longed for Egypt and the meat that was there.

So one would not be wrong to call Moses a teacher, and a nursing father, and a guide (Exodus 16, verse 3; Numbers 11, verses 4 and 5). The man’s wisdom was great. Yet it is not the same thing to guide people who are already philosophers and to govern children without reason. And if you would like to hear yet another detail: as a nurse says to a child, “When you relieve yourself, lift up your clothes,” and tells it what to do for as long as it sits there, so also did Moses (Deuteronomy 23, verse 13). [o]

For all the passions rule like tyrants in children, since they do not yet have what bridles them: empty glory, craving, unreason, anger, envy. Just as in children, so these prevailed in them. They spat on Moses; they beat him. And as a child picks up a stone, and we all cry out, “Oh, don’t throw it!” so they too took up stones against their father, and he fled from them. And as a child who loves finery asks his father for any ornament the father has, just so did Dathan and Abiram’s party act when they rebelled over the priesthood (Numbers 16). Besides, they were the most envious and small-minded of all peoples, and imperfect in every way.

Tell me, then: should Christ have appeared at that time, and given them these teachings of true wisdom then, when they were raging with lust, when they were like horses mad for the mares, when they were slaves to money and to the belly? No; he would only have wasted his lessons of wisdom talking with people who had no understanding, and they would have learned neither the one thing nor the other. Just as someone who teaches reading before he has taught the alphabet will never teach even the alphabet, so it would have been then too. But it is not so now; for by the grace of God much forbearance and much virtue have been planted everywhere. Let us give thanks, then, for everything, and not be overcurious. For it is not we who know the right time, but he, the Maker of time and the Creator of the ages. [q]

In everything, then, let us yield to him. For this is what it means to glorify God: not to demand from him an account of what he does. This is how Abraham too gave glory to God: “And being fully persuaded,” we read, “that what he had promised he was able to perform” (Romans 4, verse 21). He did not ask questions even about the future; but we examine closely the reasons even for what is past. See how great the folly, how great the ingratitude in this!

But from now on let us stop, for no gain comes of it, but even much harm. Let our minds be gratefully disposed toward our Master, and let us send up glory to God, so that, offering thanks for everything, we may be counted worthy of his love for humankind, through the grace and love for humankind of his only Son, with whom, to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, power, and honor, now and forever and ever. Amen.