Broad Street Presbyterian Church

Broad Street Presbyterian Church
760 East Broad Street • Columbus Ohio 43205 • (614) 221-6552 • fax (614) 221-5722 • www.bspc.org
“Holding All Things Together”
Colossians 1:15-23; Psalm 52
July 17, 2016
Rev. Ann Palmerton
Broad Street Presbyterian Church
Columbus, OH
Soon I will read our second scripture lesson. But first, take a look at the picture of the solar system on your
bulletin cover. Let’s consider the amazing work of NASA, the National Aeronautics and Space Administration.
Experts say it’s the hardest thing NASA has ever attempted. No wonder scientists cheered on July 4th. That
day, spacecraft Juno arrived in planet Jupiter’s orbit after an epic five-year, 1.8-billion-mile journey. Juno is a
space mission like no other. Its goal: to probe the mystery beneath Jupiter’s swirling storm clouds. The gas
giant holds secrets and we know a few of them – that the main bulk of the planet is composed of hydrogen and
helium, that 1,000 Earths can fit across Jupiter’s equator, and that it takes 12 years for the planet to go around
the sun.
With the magnificence of the solar system in mind, we turn to Colossians, chapter 1, to hear a reading that
sounds poetic, like a hymn or a psalm . . .
In Colossians we read, “For in Christ all things were created in heaven and on earth, things visible and
invisible . . .” (Colossians 1:16)
On the one hand, we’ve got the extraordinary achievements of NASA’s spacecraft Juno. Math’s precision,
physics’ intuition, and a highly-controlled script that has been unfolding according to plan.
On the other hand, we’ve got Nice and Turkey and Dallas and Orlando. No script. Chaos. Hatred. Families
celebrating Bastille Day massacred on a palm-lined boulevard. In Istanbul, Turkey, fear and terror on roads and
airport, the very roads and airport where I stood with my family just six weeks ago.
I can’t stop thinking about Nice and the children. Children celebrating a national holiday. Sean and Brodie
Copeland among them, father and son from Texas. Each death is another nail in the body of Jesus, the suffering
of each one another lash across his back. Tears flow watching the news. Death changes things. We know that.
At the core of our Christian story, we know that.
How do we rise from these terrors? And resist giving into nihilism, cynicism, hatred? What can we do to be
more human with one another?
Writer Anne Lamott responds this way to the week’s news:
“Life has always been this scary here, and we have always been as vulnerable as kittens. Plagues and
Visigoths, snakes and schizophrenia; Cain is still killing Abel and nature means that everyone dies.
I hate this. It’s too horrible for words. When my son was seven and found out that he and I would not
die at the exact same second, he said, crying, ‘If I had known this, I wouldn’t have agreed to be born.’
Don’t you feel like that sometimes?
“How on Earth do we respond, when we are stunned and scared and overwhelmed, to the point of almost
disbelieving?
More sermons can be found online at http://bspc.org/AboutUs/SundayMorning/Sermons.aspx
“I wish there were an 800 number we could call to find out, so I could pass this along to my worried
Sunday School kids. But no. Yet in the meantime, I know that we MUST respond. We must respond
with a show of force equal to the violence and tragedies, with love force. Mercy force. Un-negotiated
compassion force . . .”
(from the author’s Facebook post on Friday, July 15, 2016)
We cannot tell Anne Lamott’s Sunday School kids that none of their worries will materialize. But we can
assure them that they will have company in the chaos. And if all others forsake them, God will not.
In Colossians we read, “Christ is before all things, and in Christ all things hold together.” (Colossians 1:17)
Back to the mysteries of our solar system. There is much we don’t know about Jupiter and other planets. But
one thing we do know is that they orbit in the same direction. Planets don’t sail along haphazardly, and they
don’t just fly apart. They are held, each in its own orbit.
Today our reading makes astonishing claims about the larger orbit of Jesus, as cosmic Christ. Colossians
claims Jesus is more than a Jewish prophet, or healer, or social revolutionary, but is the One in whom all things
hold together.
Colossians leaves behind the orbits of the Middle East and even planet Earth. Our reading propels us into
space, back to time before time. The magnitude of the faith claim is mind blowing. Christ is the image of the
invisible God, the one who harmonizes all things. Christ’s orbit is bigger than big. Christ orbits everywhere and
always.
In Colossians we read, “. . . in Christ all things hold together.” (Colossians 1:17)
How hard it is for us to hold things together. Recently I heard a faithful Presbyterian wonder whether peace and
justice work done years ago has made any difference. Another talked of a situation at home full of heartache.
I don’t presume to know the particulars on how all things hold together in Christ. What I do know is that we
can trust Christ. We may not know the dynamics that make love stronger than hate. But we can trust love will
prevail. Today’s scripture urges us to cling to a promise, even though it is hard to imagine how it can be
fulfilled.
In its day, the poetic, theological words of Colossians spoke a subversive message against the Roman Empire.
Caesar functioned as a self-declared son of God and used immense power to exert control over all things.
Colossians praises a different son of God, and makes a claim that resonates in every era – that Christ invalidates
empire’s power. Jesus’ death and resurrection name and reveal what is happening everywhere and all the time
in God. Whether we know it or not, whether we like it or not, whether we even acknowledge it or not, we are
all in this cosmos together. Resurrection points to enduring relationship and sums it all up in one person so we
can see it, revealing Christ as the map, the blueprint, the promise, the pledge, the guarantee of what is
happening everywhere. (Richard Rohr’s Daily Meditation, “Dying into Life,” July 5, 2016)
Our scripture reading ends with a simple line: “I, Paul, became a servant of this gospel.” And so are we meant
to be. God claims us as partners. God respects us, trusts us, tussles with us. When we dare to be vulnerable,
God supports; when we dare to take risks, God encourages.
During the last three months, I stepped away from Broad Street’s orbit. Actually, you sent me out, propelled by
your blessing, for Sabbatical. I will be sharing reflections about my experiences at a later date. As many of you
know, I called the sabbatical a Gratitude Tour, a season to express thanks. I enjoyed time with those dearest to
me. I experienced God in different rhythms and spaces. By blessing me to leave your orbit, by giving me the
gift of time, you enabled my refreshment. Today I thank you.
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I admit I had a few fears about leaving. After 30 years in ministry, 21 of them at Broad Street, who would I be
without the shape of church life? During time away, I’ve relearned that I am Ann, and that life offers fullness
and meaning when I’m not working in ministry, as well as when I am. So far, re-entry has been gentle. It was
an unplanned serendipity to return on a holiday weekend that was not church-related! In a sense, I got to sneak
back into Broad Street’s orbit.
Back to Jupiter and Juno. The spacecraft has a tough path ahead. Scientists anticipate massive doses of harsh
radiation from Jupiter and worry about its effects. The reality is that Juno won’t last forever. Not even planets
will last forever. In the face of such big-picture, long-term pondering, scripture claims the hold of the cross
endures. The end has been taken care of. There is One in whom all is held.
After the final hymn we have the pleasure of offering blessing to 14 youth and three adults. Today they leave
our orbit for mission work and the Triennium Conference at Purdue University. They will make new friends
with other Presbyterians from Ohio, as well as from Mississippi and Washington, Georgia and Arizona.
In their Indiana orbit, they will enter a new atmosphere.
Writer Anne Lamott has another comment for them and for us. She writes:
“There is no healing in pretending this bizarre violent stuff is not going on, and that there is some cute
bumper sticker silver lining . . . What is true is that the world has always been this way, people have
always been this way, grace always bats last, it just does – and finally, when all is said and done, and the
dust settles, which it does, Love is sovereign here.”
In Christ all things hold together. All things hold together. Hold on to that news, not only as solace, but as
courage. And let that good news hold on to you. Amen.
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