You might have been under the impression that my full time job is working for the denominational agency Discipleship Ministries. Nothing could be further from the truth. Now that the agency has shifted to a work from home model, my full time job is opening the door for the cats. Oh, sure, I do spend some time writing or zooming for the agency, but seriously, it’s the cats. They are patio obsessed. See, they don’t actually go wild and free, our patio is walled and gated, protected and confined to a degree. But out nonetheless. And the cats love it. And want it. On a regular basis. Let me out they say in their insistent kitty way. So, I do. We do. Again and again we open that door to let them out.
Except, it has been winter. Ish, anyway, this is Nashville after all. So, Tennessee winter. But cold and wet and not at all sunny. And the cats don’t like it. They want out, but they don’t want that out. They want a better out. What is astounding is how their desire for this better out drives them so completely. They’ll pound on the door to be let out and I’ll let them out. Then, seconds later they’ll want back in, blaming me for the condition of the out that they found. But then, a few moments later they’ll be back wanting out again, certain in their little kitty hopes that this time it will be better. Warmer, dryer, sunnier, this time the out will be the out they seek.
But it isn’t. Again and again, it isn’t. Sometimes, they’ll give up for a while. While they take a nap to restore their hope, or get a snack to build up their strength. Or get a drink from the dog’s water simply because they know it irritates him. But, actually, they won’t be giving up. Just biding their time. Until they come back and want the door opened to their better out. No matter how many times I tell them the out is still cold and wet and gray, they need to see. They need to believe that there is a better out waiting for them this time.
I have to admire their tenacity. And their persistent hope. The vision of this better out shapes their behavior on an irritatingly consistent basis. And I have to confess, when I stop to reflect, I’m humbled by them.
Colossians 1:9-14 For this reason, since the day we heard it, we have not ceased praying for you and asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of God's will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, 10 so that you may lead lives worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, as you bear fruit in every good work and as you grow in the knowledge of God. 11 May you be made strong with all the strength that comes from his glorious power, and may you be prepared to endure everything with patience, while joyfully 12 giving thanks to the Father, who has enabled you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light. 13 He has rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of his beloved Son, 14 in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.
This is one of the contested letters of Paul. Many New Testament scholars think that this letter was written after Paul’s death by one of his followers. Moreover, by the time of the writing of this letter Colossae had already been destroyed by an earthquake. The city was never rebuilt after that event, history tells us. So, even if there had been a church there, it was gone now. But the writer would have known that, so why write to the church there? Maybe this writer knew this was like writing scripture. Well, not scripture per se, but a letter that would have a wide ranging impact. Perhaps this letter, like all these letters, weren’t just for one collection of Christians in one place at one time. Maybe it was a letter for many. For those who were shaken, like Colossae had been shaken. Those who were scattered and uncertain, and wondering whether anyone saw them, if there was hope for them in this desperate situation. Maybe the letter was written to those who at the end of their rope, who’ve lost sight of their out.
You knew I was going there, didn’t you? We look out through the sliding door and the out that we see isn’t the out that we wanted. It isn’t the out that we hoped for. But where is our out? When we read a passage like this one from Colossians, our inclination is to think that it is talking about heaven. Inheritance makes us think of after death. The kingdom of the beloved son is another world and not this one. Even Jesus said my kingdom is not of this world. Right? So, all we can hope for is a change that will come in that great someday in the future. Certainly, the hope of heaven is a powerful one, we ought not diminish that. But there is so much more on offer here.
Colossians was written to convince the readers that they already have received the inheritance. Let that sink in for a moment. This isn’t a promise that we are waiting for, this isn’t something that we can only claim when we leave this world. It is ours now. We are citizens of the kingdom of the beloved son already. Right now. Right here.
But wait. If that is true, then why doesn’t it look like it? Why do we stand at the door and look longingly for an out we don’t see? Because there is work to be done. It’s as simple as that. The writer says that prayers continue and that the hope in those prayers is that you, me, us - we Colossians who have been shaken by who knows what - will know what God’s will is in our lives. Why that prayer, if not to imply that there are things to be done, there is an out to be built.
It is about the lives we are called to live. Did you read that? It’s not just about the ascension into heaven when that time comes, but how we live each and every day. We are encouraged to bear fruit in every way as we grow in the knowledge of God. As we grow in knowledge? Meaning we don’t wait until we understand all things, we don’t wait until we know every perfect answer, we don’t wait until we have the perfect argument for faith. No, we bear fruit every day as we grow in knowledge. Meaning that sometimes we’ll get it wrong. Sometimes we say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing. We can’t avoid that, we are human, we are living in an out that isn’t the one we are being shaped for. But we are working each day, step by step, bit by bit, to transform the world in which we live so that with joy we can go out and bask in the knowledge of the beloved son.
We’re banging on the doors, wanting to go into that longed for out. And often we are startled by the out we find, and our inclination is to scurry back in to the warmth of homes and safe communities of faith. But if we have the courage of cats, we’ll be back again, looking for the out that is promised.
And now excuse me, someone wants me to open the door again. Because who knows, it might be a better out this time.
Shalom,
Derek
