“The Meaning of Life” - Colossians 1:15-20

He stood there silent and frozen. Only six feet of dirt separated her from him, yet the distance was truly immeasurable. The muffled sobs of those scattered around the yard voiced the hopelessness and helplessness that seemed to envelop the world. Exposed by the tragedy, the questions which had been buried deep within broke forth in his mind: “Why am I here?” “What is my purpose?” “How can everything just slip away so suddenly and meaninglessly into death?” “Is there even any point to going on?” “What is there left to live for?”

It is in moments like these when the primary question of mankind bears its razor sharp teeth: “What is the meaning of life?” This is the most fundamental and yet most challenging question in life. It is the question which lurks in the background of life, patiently waiting to throw itself upon us. But often times it takes the most tragic situations to bring it out. Wars, famines, plagues, earthquakes, tsunamis, hurricanes, and even terrorist attacks unsympathetically burden their victims with this inquiry. In order to stop the driving force of this question all the weapons of mankind—science, philosophy, and theology—are unleashed against it. And yet despite mankind’s best efforts, countless people are still tossed aside, empty and disillusioned, in the wake of its fury. The 19th century Russian author, Leo Tolstoy, hit the nail on the head: “Without knowing what I am and why I am here, life is impossible.”

When was the last time we ourselves confronted this question? We so overwhelm ourselves with the day-to-day rat race of work, school, hobbies, family, and bills, that we hide behind our daily life and never take a moment to reflect on the meaning of all that we do. We leave this enormous question lurking just out of reach because we fear that we will not be able to answer it adequately. And even as Christians, do we allow this question its full claim upon us? Or do we also prefer to keep it at arms length?

If we do consider this question, what are our answers? “What is the meaning of life?” Is it happiness? Is it love? Is it doing what we are passionate about? Is it being a good spouse? Is it raising well-trained children? Is it doing good deeds for our neighbors? Though these answers seem pretty good, they come up lacking. These answers are all rooted in fleeting things which may come or go in our life at any time. If we look for meaning here, we will ultimately be broken when these supports are unexpectedly knocked out from under our feet: The death of a child—the loss of a job—a family disaster—a lack of appreciation for all our hard work.

So today I challenge you to confront this question: “What is the meaning of life?” Surprisingly enough the answer to this question is right before us today in our text. Paul comes to our rescue and gives us the answer to this world-shattering question in the words of an ancient Christian hymn that he quotes to the church at Colossae.

[Jesus Christ] is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through him and for him. And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in everything he might be preeminent. For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross. (Colossians 1:15-20)

But you might ask, “Where is the meaning of life in that?” Indeed, at first glance it is not obvious because the answer is so different from all our previous inclinations. Our expectations are completely shattered by God’s answer because he plainly declares that the meaning of life is not centered around us or any part of our lives at all.

“He is before (or above) all things.” The first half of the hymn finds it summary in these words. Three other phrases expand on this: “By him all things were created.” “Through him all things were created.” “For (or toward) him all things were created.” All of life and creation revolve around Jesus Christ. And therefore in these three lines we see the declaration of Jesus Christ as our limit.

But what exactly does it mean that Jesus Christ is our limit? It means that in the person of Jesus Christ God himself sets the boundaries to our life. The extent of our freedom as individuals is suddenly brought to its limit in him. Our self-seeking lives are abruptly confronted by something else which makes a claim and demand upon us.

Our protests echo forth: “But I don’t live just for myself! I am constantly bending over backwards for my job, friends, spouse, and children!” Certainly this is true, but how often does this service result with us centering our lives on our spouse and our love for them? How often do we find our meaning as a person rooted in the raising our children? The totality of Jesus Christ’s claim and limit upon our life speaks unrelentingly against us: “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple” (Luke 14:26). And even if everything we had in life—parents, home, job, spouse, children—was torn away from us, that would not be enough. The claim of Jesus Christ even demands that one thing which is left when all else has faded away: our life.

As our Creator, Mediator, and the goal of all creation Jesus Christ boldly claims and calls us, “Follow me” (Luke 9:23), “you are not your own, for you were bought with a price” (1 Corinthians 6:19-20). We no longer belong to ourselves. We no longer belong to our family, friends, or job. We can no longer live based on our own will and desires. We can no longer order our lives based on our family, friends, and job. We have run headlong into the claim of Jesus Christ. The buck stops here. He is the limit: our community and loneliness, our strength and weakness, our joy and sorrow, our life and death, our whole existence has this singular limit. He demands the center of our life.

This limit is absolutely suffocating for us because of our desire to be free from God’s claim over our life. We feel the infinite God bearing down upon us and squelching out every last bit of room and space in our lives we thought we once had. The air is being squeezed from our lungs; our ribs are being compressed against our vital organs; a weight far greater than any we might imagine is crushing every last fiber of our selfish beings. The voice of the Almighty God rings forth: “You are not your own creator. You are not the mediator of your life. You are not the goal and end of all that you do and live for. You stand judged in your rebellious attempt to be the center and director of life. You are not your own lord. Jesus Christ is your Lord.”

And here we arrive at the center of the hymn, dead and crushed beneath God’s claim which stands against our self-seeking existence.

Thankfully at this breaking point the hymn continues, “In association with him all things hold together.” These words breathe new life into us, resuscitating us from the asphyxiation of our selfishness. Though we stand condemned and judged under the burden and demand of God, there is relief. The hymn uses three phrases to elaborate on this liberation that comes in Jesus Christ: “He is the head of the body, the church.” “He is the firstborn from the dead.” “He is reconciler of all things, in heaven and on earth.”

These words lift the burden of the infinite God from our backs. The limit of the Almighty God ceases to be only judgment upon us and becomes our salvation in Jesus Christ. In the humility of a servant Jesus Christ bodily steps into our midst and holds our lives together through baptism, the Lord’s Supper, and the Church community. He is the glue, sustenance, and bond of our lives. In his body he lifts, bears, and carries our humanity out of the graves of our self-centeredness by being present among us and grafting us into his body, the Church. In this reality of his Church he walks on earth with us and guides us today just as he did his first disciples.

Jesus Christ became a real man on our behalf, was crucified on our behalf, and has been raised to new life on our behalf. Every act he did was done on behalf of our humanity that he bears in his body. Therefore because we are in his body, the Church, we too walk with him, are crucified with him, and are resurrected with him. Like him who has gone before us, we too have died to self and are raised in the promise of new life. We will be resurrected and our bodies will be restored on the last day. Through the manger, cross, and empty tomb, he reconciles all things to himself and restores all creation.

So what is the meaning of life? Is it to do good things? Is it to find love? Is it to enjoy life while it lasts? Is it simply to be happy? No. It is none of these. The meaning of life is Jesus Christ. It is his very person. In the person of Jesus Christ our Creator comes down to us in human flesh, enters into our lives, and stands in our place in both life and death. He judges us in our self-seeking and yet rescues us from meaninglessness and death by refocusing us upon his person. The meaning of life no longer orbits around our own selves and lives; the meaning of life revolves around Jesus Christ alone. It is towards him, the center of all life, that all things drive and from which all things must come. Jesus Christ takes a hold of us in the very center of our lives so that there is nothing separate from his judgment or apart from his blessing. He is the goal, purpose, and point of our lives. In him we are restored to live meaningful everyday lives today in harmony with all creation and with the hope of the resurrection of our bodies and a new life to come.

All that we do and every facet of our lives now finds its meaning only in him. We can now love our spouse, raise our children, do our job, serve our neighbors, and even enjoy our recreation, all within the meaning and security of Jesus Christ. Outwardly things may look almost exactly the same, but in reality everything has changed. Now when our time comes to stand in grief over the graves of our loved ones, we will be able to stand firm in the hope of the meaning of our life—Jesus Christ. Dietrich Bonhoeffer may have said it best: "If we behold Jesus Christ going on before step by step, we shall not go astray. But if we worry about the dangers that beset us, if we gaze at the road instead of at him who goes before, we are already straying from the path. For he is himself the way, the narrow way and the strait gate. He, and he alone, is our journey’s end." Amen.