Colossians 1:15-20
December 14
David A. Davis
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The storyteller Garrison Keillor once wrote of an experience of table grace at a family gathering before a holiday meal. “Uncle Al dinged his glass”, Keillor writes, “and announced that we were going to return thanks now…Then he said, ‘Carl, would you return thanks?’ Uncle Carl stood up and cleared his throat. Uncle Carl was the last person you would ask to pray. For one thing, he prayed longer than anybody else in the church, where prayers tended to cover a lot of theological ground and touch on all the main points of faith. Carl was endless. Scripture said, ‘Pray without ceasing,’ and Carl almost succeeded. He could pray until food got moldy. And what was worse, when Carl came to the part of the prayer where he thanked God for sending God’s only begotten Son, Jesus Christ, to die on the cross as a propitiation for our sins, Carl always wept.
“Carl had wept in prayer for many years,” Keiller goes on to tell. “Either he never got over Jesus’ death the way the rest of us had, or else it was just a bad habit he couldn’t stop. He always stood and cried, helpless, his shoulders shaking. He was a sweet man with tidy hair, oiled, with comb tracks in it, a dapper dresser who favored bow ties—a good uncle, and it was painful to sit and listen to him cry.
“He stood, and we stirred in our seats uneasily. I peeked at my fiancée and saw that she had already put a big dab of squash on her plate. She was not accustomed to table grace. I couldn’t imagine she would be ready for Uncle Carl. Carl spoke in a clear voice….thanking God for the food, for each other, for this day, and for sending the only begotten Son, Jesus to die on Calvary’s cross, and he started to sob, such a wrenching sound, his awful weeping, especially because he tried to keep talking about Jesus, and the words would hardly come out. He stopped and blew his nose, and we all, one by one, started to get weepy. My fiancée wept. I cried. We all cried. I don’t think we wept for Jesus as much as from exhaustion.”
Traditions and practices abound when it comes to “returning thanks” in the days ahead. For some, there is the designated prayer person who “returns thanks” every time the family gathers for a holiday meal. Others might practice going around the table for everyone to offer a word of gratitude. Some gatherings might feature a particular unison prayer passed on from generation to generation. Still others might look to sing the doxology or another table grace learned in church school. In the Cook Davis family, returning thanks often sounded like this while holding hands: “God our Father and our Mother, once again, once again, we will ask a blessing, we will ask a blessing. Amen. Amen. Amen. AH!” Other times it was saying the end of Psalm 27 in unison: “Wait for the Lord, be strong, let your heart take courage, yay, wait for the Lord.”
Maybe when “returning thanks” in the days ahead, we could all take a page out of Uncle Carl’s prayer. Not necessarily with the length or the weeping or the shaking soldiers. But the part that comes in “returning thanks” to God for the One who holds it all together. Returning thanks to God for God’s only begotten Son. “The image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation.” The Apostle Paul’s words here in Colossians, his soaring words describing Jesus, read like a poem, a prayer, a hymn. “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 thing,s and in him all things hold together.”
The Word who was in the beginning. The Word who was with God and was God. The Word without which not one thing came into being. The Word who brings life and the light of all people. That Light, the Light that shines whenever, wherever, darkness seeks to prevail. That Light that the ever-present darkness can never overcome. In and through the Word, the Light, all things hold together. The world came into being through this One Joseph named Jesus because he would save God’s people from their sin. The One Mary magnified with her song and pondered, treasured in her heart. This Word, this Light, this Life creating One, who gives the power for us, for you, and me to become children of God. And that is who we are. “He is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that he might have first place in everything.”
The Christ who alone is head of the church. The Great Shepherd of the Sheep, who in the power of the Holy Spirit and by his grace calls the church to be the body of Christ for one another so that together we can be his body in and to and for the world. This cosmic Christ sets before us an open door that no one is able to shut. The One who promises to stand at the door knocking so that we can open the door and eat with him, and he with us. First place in everything. First place in everything. The Alpha and Omega, who is God with us. God for us. He holds it all together.
The Teacher who transformed the law and embodied the prophets and told parables. The Teacher who blessed the poor and those that mourn, the meek and those that hunger and thirst for righteousness, the merciful and the pure in heart and the peacemakers and the persecuted. He holds it all together. The Great Physician who healed the sick and anointed those so tormented. The Savior who welcomed children and ate with sinners and embraced the broken and touched the dying. The Messiah who chose tax collections instead of the most religious, who turned obligation into a joyful feast, who threatened the powerful and the empire with a vision of the world where the first shall be last and the last first, where power is defined by servanthood and leadership is displayed in an endless concern for the other and divine wisdom is revealed by a cross.
The Suffering Servant who stared down the forces of evil and called out life from death’s tomb and stood up to all who work for destruction, all who yearn to subvert the way of peace. The Son of God was born from Mary’s womb, born in the very flesh that speaks of our mortality. His own flesh scarred forever. His own anguish and suffering seared in the memory of God. He holds it all together. The Balm of Gilead, who, even in death, reached to embrace those who hated him most, plunging the very depth of humanity’s distance from God. The Risen Christ who rose victorious from the grave, the Victor of life, and eternity, the Lord of Lords, the King of Kings. “In him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to Godself all things, where on earth or in heaven, by making peace by the blood of his cross.” Yes, he holds it all together.
Returning thanks for the One who holds it all together. The One whose love won’t let you go. Uncle Carl. The Apostle Paul. And the ancient hymn of the church.
Let all mortal flesh keep silence
And with fear and trembling stand
Poner nothing early minded,
For with blessing in His hand,
Christ our God descendeth
Our full homage to demand.
Returning thanks with the full homage of our lives. Our lives as a hymn of praise. Thriving yet again on the forgiveness of the Savior and living into the abundant life the Bestower of grace upon grace offers. Tasting of his unconditional, undying love while seeking a depth of relationship with him that redefines life’s purpose. Discovering over and over again that as a child of God created in God’s image, we are called to serve others and bear witness to that divine promise of steadfast mercy and overflowing compassion and everlasting life. Seeing his very face in those who suffer, and the long-silenced, and the unseen. Yearning for his wisdom in understanding and yes, loving and caring for those the world wants us to hate or worse. The total praise of life in his name. Following, listening to, looking to the one who bore in his flesh the fullness of God and basking in the fullness of God’s love revealed in the One who holds it all together.
Returning thanks and never forgetting, always remembering that the Victorious, Risen, Triumphant Christ who holds it all together, holds you and you and you forever the very heart of God.