The Preeminence of Christ
Commentary for the February 21, 2026, Sabbath School Lesson
"For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together." Colossians 1:16-17
This week's lesson is a complicated one. This is not because it has not been addressed before. In fact, it has been addressed continually for almost two thousand years. Its roots are founded in the controversy over whether Jesus was the promised messiah, and if so, what does that even mean? What is the nature of this messiah physically and spiritually? What role does divinity play in the relationship between God and humanity? Is Jesus' nature divine, human, or both?
The synoptic gospels deal mostly with Jesus' biography as history and providing junctures between his life and the writings of the ancient prophets. While glimpses of his nature may be seen in those accounts, it is more often the other way round, as revelations of his nature shed brighter light on those gospels. It is John who penetrated most deeply into Jesus' nature even using the metaphor of light and its illumination of the darkness to reveal Jesus' purpose and character. It is also John, in his first epistle, who succinctly sums up that character in only three words-- "God is love." (1 John 4:8) Despite this simple answer and John's light metaphor, the controversy over Jesus' nature has produced far more heat than light in the years since those first century experiences.
The arguing became so bitter that Emperor Constantine I was called upon to intervene, and he presided over the First Council of Nicaea in 325. Although hundreds of bishops attended the council, the leaders of two factions in Christendom spearheaded arguments for their cases before the emperor. Arius, a presbyter or elder from North Africa in an area we now refer to as eastern Libya, argued that Jesus was a fully human created being and not divine, while Athanasius, a theologian from Alexandria in Egypt maintained that Jesus' nature consisted of underived divinity. After hearing the arguments, Constantine ruled against Arius, confiscating his lands and titles. Later, repentant for that ruling, he restored what he could to Arius, realizing that the imperial throne had been used to settle scores by Athanasius. While church historians like to point to Paul's journey to Jerusalem to visit the apostles residing there as the first church council, it was never debated by the entire church. It was only a discussion by Jews who followed Jesus and whether they would recognize Gentiles on an equal footing as God's chosen. A sect of Jewish Christians who came to be known as Ebionites rejected that idea and demanded circumcision and other Mosaic legal requirements be fulfilled for fellowship as Christians. Coincidentally, they also believed like Arius that Jesus was human and not divine. Although there are no records that trace the connection, this may have been the pot that served up the stew that Arius was sharing. With this controversy stirring up so much greater participation from across the empire, Nicaea seems a better candidate for first church council.
Paul, ever the diplomat seeking to build up what others threatened to tear down with their warring factions did not help matters when he wrote of Jesus, "The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation." (Colossians 1:15) This passage continues to be a touchstone for conflict with some translators giving us "of all creation" and others giving us "over all creation." The key to translation depends upon the theological bias of the translator. Those who continue to side with Arius choosing "of" and those siding with Athanasius and the Nicaean Creed voted by the council favoring "above." For centuries after Nicaea, Rome and Byzantium went with the council's decision and rejected Arianism, while North Africa sided with Arius. The Vandals who swept through Iberia and North Africa adopted Arianism and became ardent enforcers of that dogma, deposing bishops and destroying churches that refused to reject the Nicaean Creed. This continued until Emperor Justinian I of Byzantium conquered them in 534. But conquering through warfare rarely extirpates competing theologies. It only drives them underground where they continue to grow. As Tertullian wrote in his "Apologeticus," "The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church." He was referring to martyrdom of Christians in general, but the same has proven true even for sects within Christendom. The teachings of Arius did not die out and are still taught by the Jehovah's Witness denomination.
It is a defining attribute of religion that once something has been declared truth that it takes on a life of its own and becomes unassailable from within the fellowship of believers that proclaimed it. While egos and politics are certainly factors, the declaration of any dogma to be a foundational pillar of a denomination makes it impossible to fine tune that "truth" beyond the moment it was set in concrete. It mandates that any advance beyond the limits of existing doctrine is heretical and anathema. Deemed an existential threat, such explorations are excised as though malignant that the existing doctrines be preserved in all their purity and not be allowed to be contaminated by the thinking of the naïve or the weak. While hundreds of thousands have died in inquisitions, holy wars, and excommunications that left individuals and families destitute of means of support, nothing was changed by these battles. Ancient practices considered heretical are still observed today. If that were the case, witchcraft and paganism, would have long disappeared from the face of the earth, but both continue to find new adherents.
Advances in theology also continue despite the challenges they raise to orthodoxy. Those denominations structured for expansion find themselves fitting more diversity under the big tent fellowship they foster. Unitarian Universalists attempt to achieve this and perhaps they do in some locations, but their local church spends a lot of energy on self-righteously bashing Christianity for their intolerance while not seeing the irony. The idea is inclusive, but the application, if done poorly, can engender more bitterness than healing.
Our problem in arguing over the nature of Christ seems to emanate from our limited perception of God. We are like two-dimensional beings arguing over the nature of three-dimensional space and the beings that inhabit it. To us, a line drawn on a sheet of paper would be a physical barrier to movement. We would not possess the ability to move in the third dimension that would allow us to simply step over it. Further, a three-dimensional being stepping over that line would move in and out of our two-dimensional world magically appearing and disappearing at will. We would not have the tools to explain that. We might describe the ability as god-like. We might extrapolate all sorts of god-like abilities based on our limited observations. We might even go further than that and declare that those who challenge such constructed explanations as being heretics. This criticism is made easier because they can no more disprove our claims than we could prove them because they are limited to the same set of tools we all possess.
Once we accept that we do not have the tools to define God beyond the limited constructs we attempt, maybe we can finally arrive at the point where we can stop pulling out by the roots anyone that does not look like a believer that accepts our construct over those of others. A key problem with such constructs is that they need defending, and since God is not inclined to defend what we think he should be defending, we appoint ourselves vicegerents to fill the need, not realizing that it is our construct of God that we are defending and not God himself. He must weep to see us willing to die for a construct instead of abandoning those constructs for reality. If we were created in God's image (Genesis 1:27), and "God is love," (1 John 4:8) then that image is love. For us, that seems as difficult to define as God. It means no one need die fighting over God's nature. Doing so is to define us as ungodlike and therefore neither Christian nor destined for heaven where failing to love would prevent us from finding root in an environment permeated with love.
This life is a school. With helps like the Bible and the Holy Spirit, we are given the opportunity to develop a character that will mesh completely with the love of God. We will find joy in companionship with him as Adam and Eve once did in Eden. But we cannot develop that character by seeking to roast others because they do not measure up to what we think they should be. As we grow in Christ, we discover that we do not measure up in every respect either. That is where grace is made possible by God's love even beyond our understanding. If we were treated as we treat others, we would have no hope, no future. But at every instant, God offers us the opportunity for repentance and change. We can live in bitterness of spirit, or we can walk toward God and become more loving, more in his image with each step. This is vital. Fighting with others over the nature of our constructs is not.
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This Commentary is a Service of Still Waters Ministry
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