Date: July 20, 2025
Festival: 6th Sunday after Pentecost
Text: Colossians 1:21-29
Preaching Occasion: Immanuel Evangelical Lutheran Church, Frankentrost, MI
Appointed Scriptures: Genesis 18:1-14; Colossians 1:21-29; Luke 10:38-42
Sermon Hymn: LSB #536 One Thing’s Needful
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
St. Paul begins our epistle reading this morning with a stark and sobering description of our condition apart from Christ. He writes, “And you, who once were alienated and enemies in your mind by wicked works, yet now He has reconciled” [Col. 1:21]. The word “alienated” vividly captures the spiritual reality of sin—it describes not just distance but estrangement, hostility, and a deep inward rebellion. In the pattern of our first parents, Adam and Eve, we didn’t wander off like lost sheep not knowing any better; we actively set ourselves against God, constructing walls of pride, resentment, and self-justification.
Yet Paul immediately turns our eyes from this alienation to the gracious work of Christ. He tells us that God has reconciled us “in the body of His flesh through death, to present you holy, blameless, and above reproach in His sight” [v. 22]. Reconciliation, then, is not achieved by our moral efforts or spiritual potential but entirely through Christ’s physical sacrifice on the cross. His real, tangible flesh was given up so that we who were enemies of God might stand holy and blameless before God.
This reconciliation is beautifully foreshadowed in Genesis 18. There, in the heat of the day, the Lord appeared to Abraham and Sarah as three visitors—the mystery of the Holy Trinity. Abraham runs to them, bows low, and prepares a meal. It’s a scene of humble hospitality and divine condescension [vv. 1-8]. In this meeting, God delivers an impossible promise: that Sarah, despite her old age and barren womb, would bear a son. When she laughs, the Lord asks, “Is anything too hard for the LORD?” [v. 14]. Just as God promised life from a barren womb, so He brings spiritual life to our dead hearts through Christ’s death and resurrection. The laughter of disbelief is transformed into the laughter of joy and fulfillment.
Paul calls us not simply to acknowledge this reconciliation as a past event but to remain in it actively. “If indeed,” he says, “you continue in faith, grounded and steadfast, and are not moved away from the hope of the Gospel which you heard” [Col. 1:23]. Here, he underscores the necessity of perseverance. The Christian life is not a one-time confession followed by forgetfulness—it is not a “once saved always saved” as if faith were an insurance policy, but a lifelong grounding in Christ’s promises by grace through faith.
In Luke 10 this morning, we met Mary and Martha, whose example teach this lifelong grounding in Christ’s promises. I’m sure you’re already well familiar with the story. Martha is busy, distracted with much serving; Mary sits at Jesus’ feet, listening to His Word. Jesus gently corrects Martha, telling her that “one thing is needful,” and Mary has chosen it, and it will not be taken away from her. In this account, we see the danger of being moved away from the hope of the Gospel by the distractions of even good, well-intentioned service. Martha’s problem was not her desire to serve. After all, we all busy ourselves when we have a guest over, cleaning up all our clutter. Imagine if it were the Lord Himself! Her problem was that her service became disconnected from hearing and resting in Christ’s Word.
The Sabbath, and particularly our gathering each Sunday, is given so that we might be re-grounded in this “one thing needful.” As Jesus says in Mark’s Gospel, “The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath” [Mark 2:27]. In this Divine Service, God’s hospitality continues: He speaks, and we listen; He gives, and we receive. We come weary and anxious, and He grants us rest and renewal in His Word and Sacraments.
Paul then describes his own ministry of Word & Sacrament: “I now rejoice in my sufferings for you and fill up in my flesh what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ” [Col. 1:24]. We must read this carefully. Paul isn’t saying that Christ’s atoning work was insufficient. What he’s saying is that he participates in Christ’s ongoing ministry of love and sacrifice for the Church. Just as Abraham offered cakes and a tender calf to the Lord, and just as Martha served Christ in her home, so Paul—and every faithful pastor after him—offers himself in service for the good of God’s people. The pastor’s calling is not to complete Christ’s sacrifice but to distribute its benefits through Word & Sacrament, bearing burdens, teaching, and pointing always to Christ.
And that is the heart of the Gospel mystery, which Paul says is “Christ in you, the hope of glory” [v. 27]. This is the astonishing result of reconciliation: not merely a God above or beside us, but Christ dwelling within us through faith. The same Lord who visited Abraham and Sarah under the trees, and the same Lord who sat in Martha’s living room, now dwells in the hearts of His baptized people—your hearts. This indwelling is not a vague feeling or an emotional high but a concrete reality, anchored in the Word and Sacraments so that when you hear Absolution, whether publicly or private, you hear the words of Christ Himself; and when you were baptized, you were clothed with His righteousness; and when you receive the Lord’s Supper, you receive His very body and blood for the forgiveness of sins, life, and salvation.
Paul’s aim in his ministry, he declares, is “to present every man perfect in Christ Jesus” [v. 28]. So the goal is not outward moral improvement or spiritual performance but to be presented fully mature in Christ, clothed in His righteousness. Abraham and Sarah saw God turn the impossible into reality, fulfilling His promise in their son Isaac. So too does God take those who were enemies—you and me—and turn them into His holy children, and the laughter of disbelief becomes the joy of the redeemed. {ad lib justification by faith courtroom imagery}
And Paul concludes, “To this end I also labor, striving according to His working which works in me mightily” [v. 29]. Here, we see the divine paradox: we labor, yet it is Christ’s strength at work within us; we serve like Martha, but in the strength of Christ who calls us first to sit and listen like Mary. Our efforts are no longer driven by anxiety or self-justification but flow from the wellspring of Christ’s love and power in us.
So, dear saints, you may feel today like Abraham and Sarah—barren, doubting God’s promises, wondering how He could bring life from your deadness. You may feel like Martha—overwhelmed, burdened by endless demands, convinced that your worth depends on your productivity. Or you may feel like Mary—drawn to rest at Christ’s feet but urged to be pulled away by the noise of daily life.
To each of you, Christ comes. He enters your tent and your home. He sits with you in your weariness. He looks into your heart and says, “Is anything too hard for Me?” He reconciles you, makes His home in you, and promises that His presence is your hope of glory. So, remain in Him. Let His Word dwell in you richly. When you stumble, return to His mercy. When you rejoice, give thanks for His grace. When you serve, do so from His strength, not your own.
And on that final Day when He comes again in glory, you will be presented holy and blameless—not because your hands were always busy or your faith always unwavering but because Christ has chosen to make His dwelling within you. Then your laughter will echo Sarah’s joy. Then you will sit eternally at the feet of Jesus like Mary. And then, free from all anxiety, you will serve joyfully like Martha in the eternal feast of His kingdom, which has no end.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
The Lutheran Column 