"The Grand Vision"
Colossians 1:15-23
Last week in New Mexico, I attended an occasion at which representatives of various spiritual traditions were present. One person there was a devotee of Native American Indian spirituality. When he found out I was a Presbyterian minister, he came up to me and said, "I have a philosophical question for you." I answered, "Um, okay." "Would it make any difference in the world, spiritually speaking, if Jesus had never existed?" he asked me. "I mean, haven't the basic benefits of spirituality come forth in other traditions, such as the Native American one? Such things as a sense of mystery, respect for creation, kindness toward others, and so forth." If I understood what he was saying, he was implying that Christ is unnecessary, or at least represents only one religious stream alongside many others. "I'll bet many people in your congregation are asking this same question," the man concluded.
He may be right. Religious pluralism, with all its attendant issues, is the context in which we live today. In recent years, we've become almost hyper-sensitive about religious diversity, and more aware than ever of the dangers of religious imperialism. Religious diversity can even be funny. Christian Century magazine recently printed a short piece on how different religious traditions might respond "when stuff happens."
Taoism: Stuff happens. Who gives a stuff?
Hinduism: This stuff has happened before and will happen again.
Buddhism: The stuff that happens doesn't really.
Zen: What is the sound of stuff happening?
Islam: The stuff that will happen will happen.
Judaism: Lord, why is this stuff happening to me?
Evangelicalism: Jesus, we praise you and just wanna ask why this stuff isn't happening to someone else.
Catholicism: Stuff happens because you deserve it.
Rastafarianism: Let's smoke the stuff.
In any case, as my acquaintance in New Mexico reminded me, we 21st-century Christians face a difficult challenge: How do we remain steadfast in the Gospel while living in peace with our neighbors, including neighbors of other religious traditions? That's surely a question being asked by people both outside and within the church.
But it's instructive to remember that the challenge of religious pluralism is not a new one for the church. Granted, today the complexities of different cultures and religious traditions are probably greater than in past generations, and the need to understand and respect one another more urgent. Still, religious pluralism also describes the situation of the first-century church, especially of the church at Colossae, to whom Paul addressed one of his letters. In Paul's day, Colossae was a cosmopolitan city located in what is today Turkey. This was a place where various ideas belonging to Hellenistic religious philosophy permeated the spiritual atmosphere: nature worship, astrological speculations and wisdom teachings drawn from the mystery cults were prevalent. One particularly widespread belief held that the world was full of "eons," or offshoots of deity. Paul refers to these spiritual emanations as elemental spirits, or principalities, or powers. These spiritual powers terrified the people. Thus, spiritual teachers in Colossae prescribed strict practices of fasting, dietary restrictions and other taboos, for the purpose of appeasing and gaining the favor of these various elementary spirits. Suffice it to say, the Christians in Colossae lived and worshiped in a highly pluralistic religious environment. One commentator called Colossae a religious potpourri.
Predictably, Christians of that day were influenced by these practices and adopted some of them. For example, some teachers in the congregation were promoting a rigorous discipline and various dietary taboos. They spoke of Christ as one expression of the deity along with other spiritual powers. It was this tendency toward syncretistic religion that prompted Paul's letter to the Colossians. Keep in mind that, at least for Paul, these spiritualities so pervasive in Colossae were not benign. Rather, in Paul's view, they enslaved people by laying on them a fatalistic mentality, austere disciplines and strict requirements. "Why do you submit to regulations?" Paul writes. "Do not handle, Do not Taste, Do not touch." Paul saw such requirements as a threat to the freedom Christ has won for us. Throughout his letter to the Colossians, Paul applies his basic insight: God's grace is enough. Special prayer techniques are not needed to reach God. Cleansing diets are not the way to makes ourselves pure. Knowledge of the stars and the new moon is not required. God's grace in Christ, Paul insists, is sufficient to frees us to love ourselves, others and God.
So with these concerns in mind, Paul includes in his letter this hymn to Christ's supremacy over all other powers--this grand vision of how God's love is filling and completing the creation. Listen again:
Christ is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; 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. He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together. He is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that he might come to have first place in everything. For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross.
"Ah," my acquaintance in New Mexico might respond, "this is the problem many of us have with the Church. You Christians want to put your version of spirituality before, above and as superior to all others." Such a complaint should both trouble and challenge us. How do we keep this grand vision of God's reconciliation of the world through Christ from collapsing into religious arrogance or, worse, religious imperialism?
Granted, that's a tricky question. But we find guidance from I Peter: "Always be ready to make your defense to anyone who demands from you an accounting for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and reverence." With gentleness, because we Christians have no boast to make about ourselves—that we are more loved by God than others. We cannot boast about our religion—as if it were superior to any other, or that we have a more noble history than others. Sadly, we don't. As Christians we are simply stewards of a vision about how a living Creator has not abandoned the creation, but is bringing it to a glorious completion. That is the hope promised by the gospel. Yet we must always speak of the hope that is in us with reverence and humility, because the peace of God includes everyone, and therefore is often in evidence in places and people that don't carry the familiar labels. Conversely, God's peace is sometimes absent in the very place we would most expect it.
This is why Paul makes it clear that the Christian vision of God's triumphant love is credible only when the lives we lead are shaped by this vision. If we who hold this grand vision are not living into it by loving our neighbor, caring for creation, working for peace and justice, then our words are empty, a noisy gong and a clanging symbol.
"Is Christ necessary?" I was asked. Perhaps that's the same as asking, Is peace necessary? Is reconciliation necessary? Is hope for the world necessary? Friends, we 21st Christians live in a time when diverse spiritualities and religious traditions abound, and sometimes clash. Admittedly, such a reality makes professing and living out our faith more challenging. But the clearer our vision of Christ becomes, the broader and deeper our love for all people grows. And the more we proclaim the uniqueness of Christ, the more we can embrace our common humanity.