Reconciled and Restored

Colossians 1:19-23

The human heart can be a dark place. On April 15, 1912, the Titanic sank in the cold, dark waters of the north Atlantic after hitting an iceberg. Those who were on the ship that fateful night showed the extremes of human behavior – from the depths of cowardice and self-centeredness to the heights of sacrifice and love. Some gave up their spots on lifeboats to make room for others. Others lied, pushed, and shoved to get on lifeboats in place of more vulnerable people.

But it was the time after the ship had disappeared beneath the surface of the water that the real depravity of the human heart came to the surface. 1,600 people who were on the ship were not able to get onto lifeboats. Only 13 of them were picked up by the 18 half-empty lifeboats floating nearby.

In boat 5, Third Officer Pitman heard the cries of those trying to stay afloat in the frigid waters and called to the men on the boat to join him in rowing back toward the wreckage. But the passengers on his lifeboat protested, fearing they would lose their own lives trying to save others. Third Officer Pitman caved, and boat 5, carrying 40 people and room for 65 floated 300 yards from the fading cries of swimmers.

In boat 2, Fourth Officer Boxhall asked the people onboard if they should go back and help. They were only 60% full, and they said no. They callously listened as swimmers near them were overcome by hypothermia and drowned. The situation was reversed on boat 6, as the people on board begged Quartermaster Hitchens to return, but he refused, telling them that the drowning swimmers would overturn the boat.

Of the 18 boats floating on the sea that night, only one – boat 14 – returned to help those who were still afloat on the surface. But only after an hour had passed, when the thrashing, panicked crowd had thinned out.[i]

The people on board weren’t just the elite. Yes, there were millionaires, industrialists, and prominent socialites. There were also teachers, authors, clergy, and tourists. The largest portion of the travelers were poorer immigrants from Ireland, Scandinavia, and other parts of Europe hoping to start a new life in the United States. It was a cross-section of humanity. Although the wealthier passengers on the upper decks had faster access to the lifeboats than the poor immigrants in steerage, so they survived at a higher rate than those down on the lower decks.

There were rich and poor, men, women, and children, people from many different countries, Christians and non-Christians in those boats. It didn’t matter. With remarkably few exceptions, they didn’t want to go back to help the struggling. It’s easy to sit here in this warm, comfortable sanctuary this morning and say, “I would have given up my spot.” Or “I would have tried to get my boat to go back.” But the evidence says otherwise.

The people in the boats and in the water that night were no different than us. If there’s a clearer picture of the darkness of the human heart, I don’t know what it is. One thing is clear – we are not capable of solving that problem. No political agenda, no social program, no self-help book or self-improvement seminar can solve that problem. The human heart is dark and filled with sin – separated from God. We need rescue. We cannot save ourselves. The solution cannot come from us. We’ve been trying for thousands upon thousands of years. Turn with me to Colossians 1:19-23. We’ll start with Vv. 19-20.

The fullness of God dwelt within the human body of Jesus of Nazareth. Fully God, AND fully human. Jesus wasn’t just a little bit God. He wasn’t just a man with some of God in him. He wasn’t even mostly God. Jesus was fully God. The fullness of God dwelt in him. God in his fullness was incarnate in the Son.

And yet, he emptied himself of something. Paul in Philippians 2:6-7 says that the eternal Son “did not count equality with God something to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men.” He gave up his heavenly status and glory and his rights as God, the divine creator.

When he came into this world, he didn’t appear as a king above all kings or the mightiest of warriors. He came into this world in a backwater town of a backwater country, far from the global centers of power and wealth at the time. He came not as wealthy and powerful and elite and connected but as a carpenter, born to parents who were not yet married. He allowed himself to be humiliated and beaten and ultimately crucified by those he had created and had come to save.

He was fully God AND he was fully human at the same time.  As fully human, he could go to the cross for you and for me. As the King of Creation, fully divine, he could serve as the means of reconciliation between God and me. The fullness of God was pleased, excited to dwell in Christ and Christ gave up his heavenly status and glory and rights TO reconcile us to God. To deal with the darkness in the human heart. To make real forgiveness possible. In Christ, God was reconciling ALL THINGS to himself. All means everything. Everyone. There is no place in the cosmos, no situation in any life, no person who is outside the reach of God’s saving grace.

From the beginning, creation’s destiny was tied up with humanity’s destiny. You see, God created humanity in His image and ordained us as his regents over creation. So, when sin entered the human heart and humanity experienced separation from God, that sin also entered creation itself. That is why Paul says “…the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God” (Rom. 8:18-21).

Now, look at V. 21. Is it possible to be a good person without God? In 2009, a new billboard in downtown Chicago got everyone’s attention and stirred up some controversy. In big letters it asked: “Are you good without God? Millions are.” The billboard’s question begs for an answer. Can a person who rejects God’s very existence, let alone his authority, do good? Of course they can! They can be honest and kind, pay their taxes, and give money to the poor.

But we all have our moments. Those times when the darkness in our hearts becomes visible for all to see. Those times when what we’re really thinking comes out of our mouths. Those times when we lose our temper over something small. When we trample over someone to get what we want. Yes, we can keep the darkness at bay sometimes. But we can’t keep it at bay all the time, and that points us to the problem.

The darkness is still there, inside. We have this idea that sins are a list of things that we shouldn’t do that we do, and things that we should do that we don’t. That’s sin to most of us: doing things that we shouldn’t and not doing things that we should. The problem with that understanding of sin is that it focuses on the symptoms and not on the underlying condition. Sin is not a list of actions, of shoulds and shouldn’ts.

Jesus confronts this idea head on, making his point in dramatic fashion. “You have heard that it was said to those of old, ‘You shall not murder; and whoever murders will be liable to judgment.’ But I say to you that everyone who is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment; whoever insults his brother will be liable to the council …” (Matt. 5:21-22). That means guilty of breaking the law of God. Most people, even murderers, know that murder is wrong. But Jesus lumps anger in with murder.

Jesus takes the spotlight off the action itself and shines it on the heart behind it, because that is where sin resides: in the human heart. The actions we think of as sin are symptoms that betray the bent of our hearts, and our hearts are bent toward self: self-preservation, self-aggrandizement, self-sufficiency. It is the orientation of our hearts away from God, and toward self. And of that we are all guilty. Shine the light on my behavior and, if I’m trying hard I can make sure I look pretty good. But what if that light shines on thoughts that no one else can see? On heart attitudes that I manage to suppress most of the time?

Can I be good, do good, apart from Christ? Of course. Does that make my heart any less sinful? No. And we confess it. We know it. “Nobody’s perfect.” “I’m only human.” People go to counselors because at some level they know something must change. We know, deep inside, that no matter how good we are, at a foundational level, our hearts are oriented away from God, and that orientation, that bent, is sin. And that is what creates a separation between us and God. The actions, the inactions, are the symptoms of a cancer, a darkness that lives deep inside.

And we can’t get rid of it on our own. Look at V. 22. We can’t get rid of the darkness, the cancer, on our own. So God takes care of it in Christ. In his beating. His crucifixion. His death. And his resurrection.

Author and speaker Brennan Manning has an amazing story about how he got the name “Brennan.” Because that isn’t the name his parents gave him. While growing up, his best friend was Ray. The two of them did everything together: bought a car together as teenagers, double-dated together, went to school together. They even enlisted in the Army together, went to boot camp together and fought on the frontlines together. One night while sitting in a foxhole, Brennan was reminiscing about the old days in Brooklyn while Ray listened and ate a chocolate bar. Suddenly a live grenade came into the foxhole. Ray looked at Brennan, smiled, dropped his chocolate bar and threw himself on the live grenade. It exploded, killing Ray, but Brennan’s life was spared.

When Brennan became a priest he was instructed to take on the name of a saint. He thought of his friend, Ray Brennan. So he took on the name “Brennan.” Years later he went to visit Ray’s mother in Brooklyn. They sat up late one night having tea when Brennan asked her, “Do you think Ray loved me?” Mrs. Brennan got up off the couch, shook her finger in front of Brennan’s face and shouted, “What more could he have done for you?” Brennan said that at that moment he experienced an epiphany. He imagined himself standing before the cross of Jesus wondering, Does God really love me? And Jesus’ mother Mary pointing to her son, saying, “What more could he have done for you?” The cross of is God’s way of doing all he can do for us. And it’s enough.

And God’s reconciliation through the cross of Christ has one purpose. It is not to make my life easy. It is not to make my life make sense. It is not to make me prosperous in this life. God’s purpose for me is “to present [me] holy and blameless and above reproach before him.” The purpose of the cross of Christ is to reconcile me to God. It is to create the way through which I may return home. Pastor Tim Keller said it this way: “Here’s the gospel: you’re more sinful than you ever dared believe; you’re more loved than you ever dared hope.” In Christ, we find ourselves reconciled to God, our sins already condemned and already punished in Jesus on the cross. Paul calls followers of Christ “saints.” And what is a saint? A saint is a forgiven sinner.

And because we have been reconciled to God, we can be reconciled to one another. And friends, it is in Christ and Christ alone that this reconciliation with one another will happen. You see, when Paul uses the word “alienation,” he’s not just talking about each one of us being alienated from God. He’s reminding the gentile church in Colossae that they were once, by definition, alienated from the people of God, the Jews. But now, the people of God are centered around Christ, not Abraham. He’s not just talking about individuals. He’s talking about groups of people, communities, reconciled to one another BECAUSE they have all been reconciled to God in Christ.

If I’m rooted in Christ, reconciled to God, then by definition I am an active part of a reconciled community of the people of God. And in that community, we practice reconciliation with one another because we have already been reconciled with God. Now, remember, reconciliation takes two. God does the reconciling work in Christ, but we have to respond and drop our hostility toward him. Otherwise, there is no reconciliation.

The same thing is true of people. Being a reconciling people doesn’t mean we tolerate physical, emotional, or spiritual abuse to continue. It is only when the abusive one repents and turns away from their bad behavior and seeks healthy accountability that we can truly be reconciled and learn to trust one another again.

Now, look at V. 23. We are reconciled to God if we continue in faith. Our relationship with God in Christ is exactly that, it’s a relationship. And as with any real relationship, it’s a two-way street. Now don’t get me wrong. It is God and God alone who reconciles us to him. It is God and God alone who saves. It is God who is seeking us. It is God who has made a way for us to be reconciled to him.

But like any relationship, there is something for us to do too. God’s gift requires our response in gratitude and obedience. Our job is to continue in the faith, to hold on in hope. The gospel is powerful, but it is not magic. It requires us to respond with our minds, our hearts, our wills. It requires us to say one thing: I’m not going to quit. I’m not going to quit hoping. I’m not going to quit trusting God. It may be by a thread, by a fingernail, but I’m going to keep holding his hand, knowing that his hand has a firm grasp of me. I want to quit. I want to give up. But I’m not going to. “If indeed you continue in the faith, stable and steadfast, not shifting from the hope of the gospel that you heard …”

Naturalist Jane Goodall told the true story about a Callery pear tree that had been planted near Building 5 of the World Trade Center. Since the early 1970s the tree’s delicate white blossoms had brought a touch of spring into a world of concrete. In 2001, after the 9/11 attack, this tree, like all the other trees that had been planted there, disappeared beneath the fallen towers. Amazingly, in October, a cleanup worker found her, smashed and pinned between blocks of concrete. She was decapitated and the eight remaining feet of trunk were charred black; the roots were broken; and there was only one living branch.

Initially, many observers thought the tree was unsalvageable. But the cleanup workers at Ground Zero talked an employee with the Parks Department into give the tree a chance, so it was sent off to nursery in the Bronx. When a nursery worker first saw the decapitated tree he did not think anything could save her either. But once the dead, burned tissues had been cut away, and her trimmed roots deeply planted in good rich soil, the tree survived. The tree was given a new name – Survivor.

In the spring of 2010 disaster struck Survivor again. The tree was ripped out of the ground by a huge storm with 100 mph  winds. Once again rescue workers worked together to salvage and redeem Survivor. At first they only partially lifted the tree, packing in compost and mulch so as not to break the roots. Then, for a long while they gently sprayed the tree with water to minimize the shock, hoping she’d make it. A few weeks later they were able to get Survivor completely upright. Again, Survivor was resurrected from the dead.

The next year Survivor was incorporated into the 9/11 memorial. She was planted near the footprint of the South Tower. The tree was planted so that the traumatized side faces the public. Some people weren’t pleased to have the tree back, saying that she “spoiled” the symmetry of the landscaping, as she is a different species from the other nearby trees. Indeed, she is different.

On the tenth anniversary of 9/11, when the memorial site was opened to survivors and family members, many of them tied blue ribbons onto Survivor’s branches. As of July 2024, the Survivor tree stands out from the rest of the trees on the 9/11 Memorial. In the spring, it’s the first to bud and the last to lose its leaves in the fall.[ii] That’s what God has done for us in Christ. Let’s pray.

[i] R. Kent Hughes. Preaching the Word: Philippians, Colossians, and Philemon.

[ii] Adapted from Jane Goodall, “Jane Goodall Reveals Her Lifelong Fascination With … Plants?” Smithsonian magazine (March 2013); Staff, “The Tree That Survived,” 911 Memorial (accessed 7/29/24)