Colossians 3:12-17
As God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in the one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom; and with gratitude in your hearts sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.
Why Is This So Hard?
Here’s the thing. This is so incredibly hard. Right? Is it hard for you?
A friend preached a memorable wedding sermon on this text, pulling accessory after accessory from her big bag of tricks—hats, scarves, sunglasses, and more. As she spoke on this reading, she placed an accessory on every person in the wedding party. “Clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience.” But it’s a whole lot easier to put on a hat than to back down from a ridiculous argument and choose kindness. I’d much rather try to tie a scarf (which isn’t exactly easy for me) than look at my own culpability when a relationship goes awry.
There’s all sorts of meddlesome “stuff” that gets in the way of going to the closet each morning and choosing to put on love. I don’t know where it all comes from, but it’s there. It’s in me—an unwillingness to forgive; a desire to be “right;” learned patterns that kept me safe at one time but only harm me now; anger that simmers for so long and then boils over in dramatic fashion; impatience with what appears to be backward progress; an inability to differentiate between loving and enabling; a refusal to look closely at myself, because it’s far less dangerous to my sense of self to believe that the whole thing is someone else’s problem.
All these accessories ought to have been put out for recycling long ago—transformed into something useful—but they remain on the floor of the closet and I put them on absentmindedly most every day. They fit so well, even after all these years.
This reading from Colossians feels like a to-do list that I’ll never be able to manage. I have to look really hard for good news, but I do think it’s there. “Whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God…”
What does it mean to do everything in the name of Jesus?
I hope to God it means that none of this is possible without Jesus, that none of us are left to our own devices, will, or even strength of character. Instead, we are part of one body, where the peace of Christ rules in our hearts and the word of Christ dwells in us richly. It just does. Period.
As one body, we are clothed in the love of God. It’s a permanent piece of our wardrobe. We don’t hang it up at night and put it back on in the morning. We don’t choose it for ourselves. It’s there. For us. Forever.
And maybe it’s in giving thanks to God—and to one another—that we recognize that love. It’s there underneath all that other clothing that, despite feeling comfortable, actually binds us.
Most merciful God, we confess that we are captive to sin and cannot free ourselves…For the sake of your Son, Jesus Christ, have mercy on us. Forgive us, renew us, and lead us, so that we may delight in your will and walk in your ways, to the glory of your holy name. Amen.
God, who is rich in mercy, loved us even when we were dead in sin, and made us alive together with Christ. By grace you have been saved. In the name of Jesus Christ, your sins are forgiven. Almighty God strengthen you with power through the Holy Spirit, that Christ may live in your hearts through faith. Amen. (Evangelical Lutheran Worship, pp. 95-96)
In the name of Jesus Christ, your sins are forgiven. The peace of Christ rules in your heart. You are clothed this day in the love of God.
I’m dedicating this song to Doug, the one who so often bears the brunt of my mismatched, should-have-been-recycled-long-ago accessories, and keeps on loving me anyway. Here we are long ago, in Adams, ND, where we played Ole and Lena in the memorable show, “Ole and Lena’s Wedding.” I was pregnant with Aidan at the time. Notice the Vikings hat. Doug’s been a faithful fan for a long time and it might actually be paying off this year!