The Mystery: Christ In You

INTRODUCTION

Church, I come to you today not as a lecturer or entertainer, but as your pastor—a shepherd under Christ who, like Paul, labors, strives, and struggles with everything in me to fulfill one great purpose: that I may one day present you mature in Christ.

That is the aim of ministry. That is the direction this church must walk in. That is what your life, your salvation, and your calling are about—not just being informed about Jesus, not just being inspired by Him, but being formed into His likeness.

I am not here to feed a spiritual nursery, to fill bottles with religious formula and call it Sunday. We are here to see people grow up into Christ, chew on the Word, and be shaped by the mystery of the gospel. Too many churches have become spiritual daycares—safe, sanitized, and shallow. We don’t need more lullabies in the pulpit; we need battle cries.

So where does that kind of maturity come from? Paul doesn’t leave us guessing. He points us to the very source of transformation: Christ in you—the hope of glory.

I. THE MYSTERY REVEALED: CHRIST IN YOU (v. 27)

Paul writes: “To them God chose to make known how great among the Gentiles are the riches of the glory of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.”

For generations this mystery was hidden, longed for, prophesied, hinted at—but now it has been revealed, not just to the elite, but to the Gentiles. To people like us. And what is the mystery? Not Christ for you, though that is true. Not Christ above you or beside you. But Christ in you.

Imagine your heart not as a storage closet Jesus visits once a week, but a throne room He now rules from. The glory of the gospel is not simply that Jesus died for your sins, though He did. It’s that the risen Christ now lives in you through the power of the Holy Spirit.

What does that mean for a single mom, a skeptical teenager, or a man with a dying marriage? It means that when the enemy whispers lies, when shame grips your soul, when life crushes you—He’s not outside you. He’s indwelling you. The same power that raised Jesus is now your internal resource.

Leonard Sweet once said, “Jesus is not just a model to imitate but the mind to inhabit.” Many of you try to follow Jesus by copying His actions: love your neighbor, feed the poor, forgive enemies. That’s model-based discipleship—looking at Jesus like a moral example to mimic.

To “inhabit the mind of Christ” (cf. Philippians 2:5: “Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus…”) means your inner world—your thoughts, attitudes, desires—are shaped by His Spirit. It’s not just, “What would Jesus do?” It’s, “How would Jesus think, feel, respond, love, suffer, and lead?”

Think about driving with a GPS.

You type in the address.

The voice tells you where to go: “Turn left in 500 feet.”

You follow directions—step by step, externally.

That’s like imitating Jesus. You’re relying on external instructions. You obey the commands, but you don’t necessarily understand the map or why the turn matters. If the GPS shuts off, you’re lost.

Now imagine instead that you become the GPS—you’ve internalized the map.

You know the terrain.

You understand detours, traffic, weather conditions.

You’re not just reacting to commands—you’re navigating with wisdom, anticipation, and instinct because the map lives in you.

That’s what it means to inhabit the mind of Christ. God wants more than robotic obedience. He wants to upload the whole map into your soul. To make you not just a follower, but a carrier of His wisdom, His love, His mindset. Jesus is not just your moral GPS—He wants to become your internal compass. That’s the difference between imitation and inhabitation.

If Christ is in us, then we cannot remain the same. So what does this gospel reality demand from ministry, from me as your pastor, and from you as Christ's church? Paul tells us plainly: the mission is maturity.

II. THE MISSION OF MINISTRY: TO PRESENT YOU MATURE (v. 28)

Paul says, “We proclaim him, warning everyone and teaching everyone with all wisdom, that we may present everyone mature in Christ.” Notice the three verbs:

We proclaim—we preach Christ boldly.

We warn—we confront shallow living with grace and truth.

We teach—we form minds and hearts through wisdom, not slogans or superficial takes.

And why do we do this? So that we may present everyone mature, or whole, complete, Christ-shaped.

That’s my goal for you. I don’t want to pastor a spiritual daycare where we pass out goldfish crackers and lullabies. I want to shepherd a vineyard of ripening fruit.

God did not save you to remain infants, drinking milk from bottles. Some of you have been in church for 20 years, and you still need someone to burp you spiritually. It’s time. No more pacifiers. No more bedtime stories. You were born again for battle, not for bibs. You were saved for substance, not sentiment.

He saved you to become people who bear fruit in every season, who live rooted in the Word, formed by His Spirit, and overflowing with love, wisdom, and power. Spiritual maturity is not a bonus—it is the very goal of the Christian life.

This journey to maturity is costly. It requires everything—and it’s worth everything.

III. THE STRUGGLE IS REAL—AND WORTH IT (v. 29)

Paul writes, “To this end I strenuously contend with all the energy Christ so powerfully works in me.”

He doesn’t say, “I hope people like my sermons.” He says, “I’m toiling. I’m agonizing. I’m sweating. I’m working with every ounce of strength Christ gives me so that you might grow up into Him.”

Why? Because maturity in Christ costs time. It requires repentance. It demands unlearning false patterns. It insists on obedience. It must be practiced in community. And it calls for full surrender.

And yes, it brings opposition. The enemy would rather you be a comfortable Christian than a Christ-formed disciple. He’s just fine with you staying religious, as long as you stay shallow. But the Spirit of God works in us powerfully. Paul doesn’t strive alone. He says, “I labor with His energy.”

That’s the promise of grace: God’s strength fuels our growth. He does not expect you to grow on your own. He gives His power, His presence, His Spirit. He works in you what He calls you to become.

So what does maturity actually look like in real life? What does a grown-up Christian sound like, act like, think like? Paul doesn’t just point to a process—he points to a picture.

IV. WHAT MATURITY LOOKS LIKE

Let’s be clear: maturity is not about perfection. It’s not about having a list of doctrinal facts memorized. It’s not about being impressive. It’s about Christ being formed in you. It’s about moving from infancy to intimacy. Maturity means being spiritually nourished—able to digest the meat of God’s Word, to discern truth from error, to bear the fruit of the Spirit with consistency, to hunger for depth and holiness, to live the Beatitudes, not just quote them.

Mature Christians don’t merely admire Jesus—they embody Him. They make peace instead of provoking fights. They practice meekness instead of demanding their way. They walk humbly, serve faithfully, forgive freely, give generously. They don’t get tossed by every wind of teaching or every cultural trend because they’ve been rooted in Christ.

Maturity is not linear, but it is a progressive process. Some of you are in a winter season—quiet, still, waiting. Some are in spring—new sprouts of growth. Others are in the summer, persevering in hard work. And some are in fall, bearing visible fruit. Wherever you are, the invitation is the same: keep growing.

And growing will require flexibility. Jesus said you can’t pour new wine into old wineskins. Some of us are holding onto forms and traditions that can’t carry the weight of what God wants to pour out. Maturity means we stay formed, not fossilized. It means we allow God to reshape our expectations, our thinking, and even our methods of ministry, worship, and leadership.

Imagine your soul like a house. Before Christ, it was condemned property. But the moment you believed, Jesus didn’t just forgive you from afar—He moved in. Room by room, He’s doing a renovation. He tears down strongholds in the attic. He replaces bitterness in the kitchen. He hangs new hope in the hallway. Christ in you is the divine HGTV—but it’s holiness, not home décor.

CONCLUSION I need you to hear this: maturity delayed can become maturity denied. There’s a warning in Amos 8, where God shows the prophet a basket of summer fruit. It looks good, but the season has passed. It’s spoiled. It’s no longer useful. Amos says there will come a time when people seek the Word of the Lord and do not find it—a famine not of bread, but of hearing God’s voice. That is the danger of spiritual immaturity. It’s not just weakness—it’s waste.

If we stay in the Milky Way, if we cling to shallow faith, we rot. We spoil. We miss our moment.

Beloved, I don’t want to stand before Christ one day and say, “Here are the people You gave me, and they stayed babies.” I want to present you mature. Not perfect, but pressing in. Not accomplished but aligned. Not puffed up but rooted and grounded in love. I want to see Christ fully formed in you. That’s why I preach like this. That’s why I push. That’s why I pray. Because He’s worthy and because you were made for more.

Let’s renounce shallow spirituality. Let’s kill the Milky Way. Let’s say together: “No more milk. No more shallow faith. I want Christ—formed in me, living through me, growing me into His image.”

Maybe you’ve been satisfied with milk. Maybe it’s been easy, familiar, comforting. Maybe you’re afraid of the work that growth requires. But I need to tell you: what maturity costs is nothing compared to what it gains.

You were not saved to coast. You were saved to carry Christ. You were made to be a dwelling place for the living God. You were made to grow up into Him who is the Head, Christ. So today, if you’re ready, ask Him: “Lord, no more milk. I want meat. Form me. Fill me. Mature me. Let Christ be formed in me.”