X

The Colossian Forum Subscription Form

| Resume a previously saved form
Resume Later

In order to be able to resume this form later, please enter your email and choose a password.

Subscriber Information






Subscriptions

Resources

The Colossian Forum offers free resources to help you transform polarizing cultural conflicts into opportunities for spiritual growth and witness.

Mailing Address







Please enter the required value for your country.

Colossian Blog
January 11, 2018 | Michael Gulker

Sharing the Light of Christ in the Darkness

As I write this, the brilliant white Michigan snow reflects some rather unusual winter sunshine. It seems an appropriate reflection of Epiphany, the celebration of the “manifesting” of Christ’s light to all the world. This light “shines forth” so that all the world can join us in singing, “Joy to the world, the Lord is come! Let earth receive her praise.”

The epiphany of God with us is always cause for praise and thanksgiving. Some days it seems easy to celebrate the light of Christ. But others, not so much.

It seems that despite the brightness of winter, our world darkens. Wars and rumors of wars make the headlines every day. Wars between nations, political parties, news corporations, the sexes—to name a few. It seems a long way from the pastoral scene in Luke’s gospel of the Magi bringing their gifts from afar to bow at the feet of our infant Savior. The real-life context of this beautiful passage is filled with the political intrigue and brutal machinations that led to the slaughter of the innocents.

The authors of the gospels were likely far less naïve than we are about the harsh realities of the world. That’s a helpful reminder when my cynicism darkens my light. The disciples prayed the psalms, reminding us that while the nations rage, the Lord is King. But where is that kingdom made manifest? Where is praise breaking out?

If the church is the body of Christ, then surely it ought to be the place where the light of Christ shines brightly in this dark age, right? But what if the church is as divided as the country and the world? What then? Is darkness overshadowing the light?

A people walking in darkness have seen a great light. A light has dawned on those living in the shadow of death and has overcome the darkness. It’s an odd thing, to be both the reflection of Christ’s light AND an utter failure. Why doesn’t the light flicker? Why doesn’t our sin, the sin of God’s chosen people, overwhelm the light?

Perhaps it’s because the light of Christ’s victory shines brightest in his refusal to abandon us even when we refuse to receive him. In fact, it’s through the utter rejection of Christ by the world and his people that God reveals the complete inability of anything in creation to alter his love for us. No authority, no power, no nuclear arsenal or conventional army will turn aside God’s love for us. The light of Christ’s love shines in our darkest places, our most profound divisions, and invites us to follow him in manifesting the love of God for the world in ways that lead the world to break out in praise.

But what could this possibly mean today? Well, here’s an idea. What if, as the body of Christ, we lived together across the differences and divides that the world can’t seem to bridge? What if, in our shared life together, we could “manifest” the reconciliation of heaven and earth toward those opposite us on the left/right continuum? Right here, right now. What if all the strife and division and darkness were backdrops for the light of the gospel to shine brightly today?

Ironically, most of us are already bridging divides. But we hardly acknowledge it, let alone, proclaim it. Just this Sunday, I received communion with folks well to the left and right of me; folks living in communion with each other in the name of Jesus. It was even on a day when the sermon was the first of four on immigration! Where else does that happen?

We’ve lost our theological imagination, and we’re missing the miracles right in front of our noses. While we’re busy getting it wrong, God is in our midst getting it right. He is continually forgiving us and saving us, for which we can give thanks!

One of the most delightful things that happens to us at TCF is that folks tell us that our mere existence is an encouragement. The simple reminder that “All things hold together in Christ” is enough to manifest just a little bit of epiphany light to the world. That’s not a testament to us, but rather to the hope within believers—a hope that is often forgotten.

So, this Epiphany, I want to thank you for making TCF a little reminder of hope in our world. Every prayer, every encouraging email, and every donation makes possible the manifestation of the hope and light of Christ in this dark, divided world. Thank you.

Suggested Posts
Epiphany
January 9, 2019 | Andy Saur
Epiphany
Glory always fades, just ask Moses about the bag over his head. Or inquire with anyone whose fifteen minutes have come and gone. A star may rise in the east, but sooner or later it will set in the west. It’s been said that famous people die in threes; perhaps this collective dimming eases us more gently into the night. The Magi also traveled as a trio, played their gig in Bethlehem then dissolved into the pages of history. But they didn’t return the same way they came. Maybe that’s true of us all as we journey from darkness to darkness. We find a different way home or a new home all together— one beyond the horizon, beyond this business of day and night, rising and setting.   AJ (Andy) Saur is The Colossian Forum’s poet laureate and matchless Executive Coordinator.
Your Christmas Sign
December 20, 2018 | Chris De Vos
Your Christmas Sign
A few days from now we will be evaluating our Christmas celebrations. Many will feel that Christmas was complete because everyone liked their gifts, all the meals were satisfying, and the church services were beautiful.  But for me, Christmas isn’t Christmas unless I experience a pleasant moment of divine dissonance.  It happens when I least expect it. But, in retrospect, I find that I am somehow wonderfully prepared. For instance, a few years ago in a Sunday School Christmas program, midway through the first act, the lead shepherd walked up to the lead angel (his sister), and “got in her face.”  For less than a minute (which felt like ten to mom), there was a heated conversation between the two that abandoned the storyline but followed a script they had rehearsed earlier at home.  It was a celestial showdown at the Christmas Corral. The wings didn’t come off, and the shepherd’s staff didn’t become a sword, but I was "sore afraid" that the manger would be toppled.  After the program, their good-natured mother told me the argument was about who was supposed to say “peace on earth to all people.”  “Ah,” I thought, “I had seen the sign that this was indeed Christmas.” Alongside our holiday celebrations, there is a radical side to the message of Christmas.  God took on our flesh.  In the midst of our spats, our misunderstandings, rivalries, and stubbornness, Jesus was born. “God with us” means God among us, just as we are.  God took on our character and spoke the lines we cannot get ourselves to believe: “Peace be with you.”  The child grew to tragically fulfill the role we were never able to play: a human being in perfect union with God.  God did not come into our world by lightly brushing up against us.  As one Confession states, Jesus came, “born in time, completely God, completely human.” The Gospel story of Jesus’ birth includes colorful detail, like angels announcing the birth of a king to shepherds.  Shepherds were looked down upon in society. Shepherds never dressed up as cute Sunday School children.  They were more likely to be spotted in the detention hall or the principal’s office.  Today, if we still thought of shepherds the way they did in Jesus’ day, there would be a Shepherd Locator Website where you could plug in your address to see how many shepherds lived in your neighborhood. One scholar suggests that if real shepherds ever encountered angels, they would expect a message of judgment or at least a guilt trip (“You’re still a shepherd? I hear they’re accepting applications at carpentry school.”) A shepherd would certainly not expect to be invited to the home of a newborn king. And yet we find angels and shepherds conversing with grace. We find angels telling the shepherds that there would be a sign for them: “You will find the baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”   Peasant shepherds wrapped their babies in cloths and laid them in mangers. Kenneth Bailey says that this would have been a personalized sign for them: “That is, they would find the Christ child in an ordinary peasant home such as theirs.” Suddenly, their disheveled souls found hope. There is a Christmas sign for you, one tailored to your life, one that says, “You will find the child wrapped in the garments of your life, living in the same sort of home you do.”  You will recognize that sign, for you know the details of your own life:  your doubts, your struggles, your victories, and your dreams.  It is within your own life that God will speak to you about the love and the new life that he has in store for you.  That sign will come when you least expect it; yet you, too, will be wonderfully prepared.  It is a sign you must “go and see.” You can do this by reading the gospels or by attending a church service.  But you must go yourself.  And Christmas won’t be complete until you do.   Chris DeVos is the Manager of Church Partnerships and Care at The Colossian Forum.