Homilies

It is not a wise thing to test the scriptures against the scientific narrative of creation, especially in relation to the chronology of the creation of various entities. This is not because they contradict, but simply because Scripture has a metaphysical underpinning which science can only presuppose.

For example, scientific time as we know it is demarcated by the objects in the space (heavenly bodies) and forces of interactions between them. These themselves are created in the third day of the Genesis narrative. So, what day one represents is not our familiar physical time (which was only created in day three). Neither the order of the days represents the chronology of creation. Rather, the creation narrative should be seen, with fear and trembling, from God’s perspective, transcending time.

A helpful way to think of the creation of the elements could be to think of their creation in the metaphysical universe. That is, when God creates light, light is created not only as the phenomenon we commonly experience, but also as the meaningful concept that we understand. Not only there is no light before God creates it, there is no concept of it either. Therefore, it is silly to be bogged down with questions like — how is there water before light, and vegetation before stars!

But what then is the point of seven days of creation? Why is it recorded the way it is?

The author(s) of Genesis, like everywhere else in Scripture, are attempting to tell a story. This story would give us insights on God’s character and purposes. Initially, God creates the canvas for creation — the heavens and the earth. This is in a state of chaos. What follows is an act of separation, which, one can ponder and understand, is in itself an act of creation. God creates and separates to demarcate the high and the low. God separates darkness from light, water from the sky.

What follows is a alternating emergence of “order” from the lows and highs respectively. The lows are gradually lifted and the highs stooped — all in anticipation of a distant union. For example, from the lows God brings up land, vegetation, animals. From the highs comes down the sky, the stars, the birds. God bridges and unites, that is, determines relationships between what was separated by gradually filling the chaos with order, and stooping the heavens and lifting the earth.

Finally, God makes man from the dust of the earth, and fills him with His breath to institute the ultimate bridge between the highs and the lows, the final creation to complete His willed order in the universe. This narrative is instituted and carried forward in the rest of the Bible. We learn eventually that the man fails to hold his purpose, and he stoops so low that the bridge is snapped. This leaves a gaping void in creation. What was supposed to be in unity remains disjoint! Later, God Himself descends to be born in flesh as the perfect human, and act as the perfect union between Heaven and Earth, according to His original purpose as conveyed in Genesis 1.

Parallels with Chapter 1 of the Gospel of John. The gospel of John is believed to have been written at least three decades after this epistle was. John’s gospel often appears to be a discontinuity from the other three canonical ones, which is why it doesn’t share the “synoptic” label. The claims in John’s gospel, especially how it begins, may appear abrupt, radical and even bombastic, and the sudden Christology can surprise the reader. However, it is soothing to see that almost everything that appears in John’s exaltations are already established shortly after Jesus’s death.

Firstly, Christ is introduced to be the logos — the living framework on which the universe is hosted (by Him all things hold together, Colossians 1:17) and that He is the “beginning”, and everything is created by Him (Colossians 1:16). Paul also talks about the “domain of darkness” and the “inheritance in the light” as is also discussed in the opening paragraph of John 1.

Paul confirms that God is invisible and Christ is His image — confirming the widely held view that every preceding human encounter with God in any visible form was actually an encounter with Christ. Paul also calls Christ the “firstborn of/over all creation”, immediately following it with “everything was created by Him, in heaven and on earth”, just in case the reader questions His divinity. What it means to be both eternal (God) and firstborn is indeed God’s mystery — a mystery that Paul identifies with Christ himself (Colossians 2:2). This is again a recurring theme in the Bible — frequently, God identifies Himself with His attributes.

The following Catechism can also be extracted from the chapter, which illuminate the causal relationships between desired virtues, statements and their sources.

1. What produces a love for the saints? Hope reserved in heaven (Colossians 1:4).
2. What causes an appreciation for God’s grace? Hearing the word of truth/Truth — the gospel (Colossians 1:6).
3. What is the real purpose of knowledge and strength? Endurance, patience and thanksgiving (Colossians 1:10).
4. What is the hope for glory? That Christ is in us (Colossians 1:27).
5. How are we reconciled to God? By the sin offering of the physical body of Christ (Colossians 1:22). This heightens the importance of physically participating in the Eucharist as a “real” enactment of gospel.
6. What is Christ’s relationship to the non-human, in light of the word of God being a revelation to only human beings? The cross is a cosmic mechanism in which everything is “redeemed”, and gathered to God — every animal, every non-living thing, every particle and space, and not only matter but also all things in the spiritual realm (Colossians 1:20). What happens to rebellious angels — it is best not to assume any answer. Neither should one assume what “redemption” entails for every party.

Offering of Suffering. Colossians 1:24 can be a stopping point for many. Christians would never not be uneasy to associate “Christ” with any “lacking”, especially when the establishment of His perfection is so fresh coming from the previous verses. The church historically has given many interpretations of this verse, a verse that perhaps claims its place in the lexicon of strange/difficult verses of the Bible. I personally found the most helpful translation of this verse in the ASV, which is only a rearrangement of the phrases appearing in the more popular translations.

Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and fill up on my part that which is lacking of the afflictions of Christ in my flesh for his body’s sake, which is the church;

Many other translations express this as “I fill up in my flesh” what is “lacking in Christ’s afflictions”, and that, even though is saying the same thing, draws an impression of the “lacking” being associated to the totality of “Christ’s affliction” (without qualifying the affliction as the “affliction in my [his] flesh”). This then becomes the meat of the proposition. But it appears to me that such an exegesis is perhaps what Paul is attempting to avoid. There is no question that Paul’s circumstances are miserable. He has himself attested to many troubles that he has endured for the church. But, earlier we have seen Paul pass the credit for his achievements and successes to the LORD, building upon a correct understanding of human abilities working as simply an instrument of God’s grace, similarly here, Paul takes a step further by not even claiming ownership of his suffering. What he is enduring is not simply his suffering, but it is suffering of Christ, which is not complete, only because His suffering continues. Earlier Paul has been heard claiming “it is not I who lives, but Christ who lives in me”. This passage appears to echo “it is not I who suffers, but Christ who suffers in me”. This idea repeats itself a few verses later (Colossians 1:29) where Paul confesses that he is striving, but striving “with His strength”.

But do we not achieve our successes, and do we not suffer ourselves? Paul’s attitude is perhaps simply a grateful response to the cross. Christ has suffered on the cross, and Christ has gained victory over the ultimate opposition, but the fruits of his suffering and victory are credited to us. So it is only rightful that we offer up the merit of our perseverance and affliction to God, following His example who did it first, knowing full well that He Himself will return to us its fruits according to His great love. We are glorified (by God) by emptying ourselves of all glory, and such is the only apparatus for any true glory.

This interpretation is also compatible with the prevalent understanding that Christ identifies with His church, and sometimes, as in this passage, he calls her His body. That is why years back when this same Paul was a great persecutor of the church, Christ calls to him saying “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?”, so that one day Paul can respond rejoicing that his affliction is the “affliction of Christ in my [his] flesh”.

The only non-maniacal and non-nihilistic explanation we have of human suffering in the vast expanse of human knowledge is found in the cross. When people shake their fists in rage citing gruesome atrocities — like torture of children, and demand an answer from God — God simply humbles Himself to the place of the offended, the seemingly innocent, and suffers Himself beside them. He suffers ultimately, right to the extent of complete separation from the Good, from Love and from Hope — the Father Himself. This then is the mystery of cross that God has revealed to sinful mankind who are ever ready to judge Him. This is God’s work, thanks be to God!