He 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

He is the image of the invisible God… so why can’t I see him? He made my eyes and formed my ears, but all I see is the inexorable passage of time. Colossians 1:15-20 is an extraordinary passage, but sometimes I read it and think, Really? In six short verses, it describes the supremacy of Christ with soaring elegance, but do I believe it? Do I live it? As a matter of fact, how do you live it? When, like today, it’s dreary and cold, and everyone in the grocery store looks like they’re on autopilot, these words are still true. But somehow, the dusty linoleum and the squeaky cart take all my attention and focus. All things were created by, through, and for Christ, but I’m staring at 47 different types of cereal while trying to decide whether to buy the “large” size of Cheerios or the “family.”

It’s a nicer environment when I get home and turn on the space heater in my study, but my whole reality seems to be the noise of my pencil scratching out the same ideas I wrote down yesterday. Why did God give us passages like this, when I spend most of the time enveloped by a small world of noise and laughter and pain? If Christ is in all things, why can’t I hear him? And yet, the text still speaks. All things, it says. All things, all things, all filled with the fullness of the invisible God.

Unfortunately, I don’t usually feel folded into the arms of an all-powerful God. I feel stress and anxiety that I won’t finish my lesson plan in time. I feel hunger and the conflicting desire to eat healthily or to eat nachos. I feel my lungs expand and my heart pound when I exercise. But I don’t feel the literal presence of Jesus in every particle of dust and cat hair floating around my house. I believe in him, but I’m mostly just thinking of what’s for dinner.

When I start to feel the deep wheel ruts of the wagon of my life, I usually turn to exercise or nature. If my body will cooperate, I go for a hike or a run. It’s not just the endorphins that stir up my tired faith. Being under the trees reminds me that the Lord started with a void and made it into tall trees, bright sunlight, and the purple clouds of a coming thunderstorm. When I contemplate whether the biologists and physicists are right – that the complex beauty of this world appeared out of nowhere through mere chance – I remember the intellectual reasons I believe God is who he says he is. It’s so hard though, that God gave us eyes that can’t see him.

He is the image of the invisible God, but he has risen and ascended and now resides in heaven. How many people around the world search the sparkling canopy of the night sky to find comfort and hope? Creation without revelation holds no answers, but it always points to the source of truth. The Lord Jesus Christ, my Bible says, is the only thing holding this world together. Grocery stores, redwood trees, pencils, and oceans exist second-to-second only by his power and might. All things seen and unseen are intimately linked to the presence and glory of Christ Jesus, the image of God. He made all things, and so he is present everywhere – even Food City at 9:30 at night.

When Christ died to redeem all who believe in him, he reconciled not just people, but fallen creation itself, to the Father God. For us, God’s children, there is no longer a gap between the sacred and the common. After all, “the mountains and the hills… break forth into singing, and all the trees of the field… clap their hands [in praise]”¹ I am made in the image of God, always surrounded by his love and power. Though the path of my life is often uphill or marred with months and years of wheel ruts, at least I know where I’m going. Visible or unseen, speaking or silent, Christ is with me, literally. I am a priest in God’s kingdom and all the earth is now hallowed ground.

¹ Isaiah 55:12