Sermon for the eighth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 13, Year C)

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I’d like to tell you about a guy named Alcibiades.

He lived a long time ago, in ancient Greece, way before Jesus was even born. And he was an absolute rock star in his day. He was good-looking, well-liked, and tremendously successful. 

He rose to prominence in the city-state of Athens as a student of Socrates, a politician, and a military commander. One night, during a fit of drunken debauchery, Alcibiades and his friends defaced several statues of the god Hermes. This caused an outrage among the respectable citizens of Athens, so Alcibiades turned tail and escaped to their rival city of Sparta. 

Now, Sparta was the kind of place where they raised their kids like Navy SEALS, so Alcibiades traded his Athenian Gucci for Spartan camouflage and put his strategic skills to use for the sworn enemy of Athens. It would be like the football coach at U of M stealing their playbook and going to coach for MSU!

While living in Sparta, Alcibiades once again got himself in trouble by getting a little too “up close and personal” with the wife of a local politician, so he went on the run yet again and found himself in Persia. While living there, he used his influence to get himself back to Athens, but even that didn’t last long. He ended up dying in exile, without any friends or allies.

Alcibiades was the kind of guy who could charm the ice off an igloo. Socially, he was like a chameleon, who could change his colors to suit whatever environment he was in. He could be anyone you wanted him to be. Anyone, that is, except himself. 

We’ve all probably known someone like that: Someone who takes on a completely new personality, based on who they’re dating. If I’m being truly honest, I can even find a bit of Alcibiades in myself. In fact, I’ve already done it in this very sermon! 

A moment ago, I made a sportsball reference… but I don’t actually follow any sports! I only said it because I thought it would resonate with you. In fact, I had to Google, “Who is U of M’s rival” before I wrote that sentence. So yes, we all do it. We are all guilty of hiding or changing who we are because we think it will make us look more appealing to the people we are with. It’s a universal human phenomenon.

Today is the final week in our summer series on the book of Colossians. In the first week, we talked about how we are rooted in love, even when cynicism, fear, and indifference tell us otherwise. In the second week, we talked about how our true self is found in the connection and interdependence we have through Christ. Last week, we talked about how we are already whole and complete in Christ, not through effort but through grace. Today, we are going to talk about what we can let go of, precisely because we are rooted in love, connected in Christ, and saved by grace.

In short, what we can let go of is the insecurity that leads us to put on all kinds of fake masks to impress the people around us.

It’s this fundamental insecurity, this fear that something in us is missing or broken, that leads people to divide themselves into competing groups, point fingers at others, and generally tear one another to shreds in order to make themselves look (and feel) better. The author of Colossians calls this insecurity the “old self” and points to examples like, “fornication, impurity, passion, evil desire, and greed.”

Then they keep going: “anger, wrath, malice, slander, and abusive language.”

If I were to hold onto this list of moral vices and keep a tally, while watching the daily news and the commercials between segments, I would probably be able to check off each one (multiple times) by the end of the first hour. Some might say this is because America is a hopeless den of sin, but I say that we do these things simply because we are insecure people who don’t know how deeply we are all loved and cherished by the God who made us.

Kindred in Christ, love speaks the truth about who you really are. Colossians says that your true self is “hidden with Christ in God.”

That word, hidden (Gk. kekryptai), doesn’t mean “lost,” but “protected.” It’s like a seed that has been planted in the ground, waiting to grow into a tree. The text goes even farther than that, saying that “Christ is all and in all.” The Bible lists no exceptions to that rule. Finally, the author of Colossians says, “When Christ who is your life is revealed, then you also will be revealed with him in glory.” 

That word, glory (Gk. Doxa) means “radiance” or “inherent worth.” I look at the faces in this congregation today and I see people who are radiant and inherently worthy of love.

I find these words to be profoundly mystical and amazing. According to this passage of Scripture, Christ “is your life” and “Christ is all and in all.” There are no exceptions listed. In fact, the author goes to great lengths to specifically say that there are no exceptions. In Christ,

“there is no longer Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave and free.”

All dividing lines of social class, ethnicity, and religion are rendered obsolete in Christ. We could add to that list things like sexual orientation, political party, immigration status, or any of the other categories that divide people today. None of them matter anymore, when we begin to look at ourselves and each other through the loving eyes of Christ. Christ “is our life.” Christ “is all and in all.” You don’t have to take my word for it; it’s right there inthe Bible!

Friends, the fact that you are unconditionally loved by God is the fundamental truth of your existence. It is who you are. Nothing else matters. 

I recently saw an internet meme. I don’t know who originally said it, but I 100% agree with it: “You will never look into the eyes of someone who God does not love.” 

Anglican author C.S. Lewis said it a little more eloquently:

“There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations—these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat.”

This truth applies, not just to others, but to the person you face in the mirror as well. Christ “is your life.” Christ “is all and in all.” Everything else is just window dressing, so we can let it fall away.

Your job title, your salary, your academic diplomas, your number of online followers, and the number on your bathroom scale are all figments of the collective imagination that we can let go of in the light of God’s immortal love. You are loved. This is the only truth that matters in the end.

When I worked as a hospice chaplain, in the years between my ordained ministry as a Presbyterian minister and an Episcopal priest, I had the solemn privilege of sitting with many people in their final days and hours of life. In all that time, I never heard a single person brag about their net worth or their worldly possessions. 

What I heard them say, again and again, is four things. And I’m not the only one to notice these four things that people say at the end of life. Dr. Ira Byock, a palliative care physician who works with dying people, noticed people saying these same four things and wrote about them in a book called, The Four Things That Matter Most.

The four things that matter most, the things that people say on their deathbed, are: 

• I forgive you,
• Please forgive me,
• Thank you, and
• I love you.

At the end of our lives, when all of our worldly accomplishments and artificial categories are being stripped away by our impending death, the four things that matter most are: I forgive you, please forgive me, thank you, and I love you.

Dr. Byock asks,

“What would it be like if we said these things, not just when we are dying, but throughout the entirety of our lives?”

Our faith gives us the power to do just that.

The purpose of the Christian faith is not to get us ready for heaven after we die, but to enable us to live in heaven, at least in part, before we die. 

If we live our lives in the belief that we are loved by God, we will have the power to let go of the made-up categories that divide us on this Earth. We will be able to “strip off the old self,” as the author of Colossians says, and live in the reality of our true self, which is Christ: beloved and loving, rooted and rising in love. Just as Jesus Christ was during his time on Earth, so are we in our time. 

You are loved in abundance; therefore, give love in abundance. This is the central truth of the Christian faith. This is the truth that I hope you have heard during our summer sermon series on the book of Colossians, and it is the truth that I hope you will give to the world for the rest of your days.

Amen.