“Rooted in Grace”

It’s a humbling thing to stand before you this morning—for the first time as your pastor. If I haven’t said it enough yet, let me say it again: thank you for the kindness, the prayers, and the warm welcome you’ve extended to my family and me. These first couple of weeks in Midland have already confirmed what we sensed all along—God is at work here, and we feel called to be part of it.

And I’ll admit, when you step into a new role like this—especially as a pastor—there’s a swirl of excitement and expectation in the air. People are hopeful. They wonder what the future holds. Some are energized by change; others may still be catching their breath from the last season. But here’s what I want to say clearly, and I hope I say it often: this church doesn’t need a new personality at the center. It needs the same Person we’ve always needed—Jesus Christ.

If you walk away from this day more impressed with me than with him, then we’ve missed it. If we’re not as consistent in our disciplines as we think we should be, we wonder if God is disappointed. from this day more impressed with me than with him, then we’ve missed it. Because as much as I care for you, and as much as I’ve prayed for this moment, I cannot transform hearts. I cannot save souls. I cannot give you peace or power or purpose. But Jesus can. And he does. And he will.

That’s why today, we’re beginning a new series in the book of Colossians. It’s called Christ Above All—and that’s exactly what this letter proclaims. Colossians was written to a church that had started well but was in danger of drifting. Other voices were tempting them to shift their focus, to move on from the simple, powerful truth of the gospel. But Paul writes to say, “Hold fast. Stay rooted in what you first received. Don’t move from grace.”

Church family, this is the foundation I want us to build on together. I’m not here to reinvent or impress—I’m here to lift up Jesus. He is the source of our hope, the heart of our mission, and the reason we gather. And as we look at Colossians 1:1–8 this morning, we’ll see that everything starts—not with effort, not with energy, not with a new plan—but with this: being rooted in grace.

And while I believe that with all my heart, let’s be honest—we all like to see progress.

Whether it’s watching your yard finally green up after weeks of heat, seeing a kid go from clumsy to confident on a bike, or tracking how much equity you’ve built in your home—growth feels good. It tells us we’re headed somewhere. That things are working. That our effort is paying off.

And the truth is, most of us bring that same mindset into our spiritual lives. We want to know: Am I growing? Is my faith stronger than it was last year? Am I doing enough? Giving enough? Serving enough? And maybe deeper still: How do I know I’m really changing?

Those aren’t bad questions. In fact, Paul cares about those questions too. In this opening section of Colossians, he celebrates what he sees in the believers at Colossae—faith, love, hope, and fruitfulness. There’s growth happening. But here’s the thing: Paul doesn’t start by talking about what they’ve done. He starts by talking about what they’ve received. Grace.

And that’s where the tension lives for us. Because we often assume that Christian growth is something we have to manufacture—something we have to get just right if we’re going to see results. If we don’t feel inspired during worship, we think something must be wrong. If we’re not as consistent in our disciplines as we think we should be, we wonder if God is disappointed. If our family still struggles, or our habits don’t change overnight, we start to question whether grace is actually working.

And in those moments, it’s easy to drift. To start looking for a spiritual upgrade. A new formula. A more exciting method. Something more than this old gospel we first believed.

But Paul writes to say: Don’t move. Stay rooted. You don’t grow by moving past grace—you grow by going deeper into it.

So the question we need to wrestle with this morning is this: What does it really look like to be rooted in grace—and how can we be sure that we are?

Let’s look again at

Colossians 1:1–2 ESV

Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, and Timothy our brother, To the saints and faithful brothers in Christ at Colossae: Grace to you and peace from God our Father.

The Gospel Plants Us in Grace

Before Paul says anything about what these believers are doing, he reminds them of who they are—and where they stand. They are saints and faithful brothers and sisters in Christ. And the reason they can be called that is because of one thing: grace.

Now we hear “grace and peace” and sometimes treat it like a polite greeting—like “Hey y’all” in a churchy tone. But this isn’t just a warm hello. It’s a spiritual reality. Paul is saying, “You’re already standing in the favor of God. You’ve already received peace with God.” And not because you cleaned up your life, but because Jesus stepped in and saved you.

Grace is what starts it all. And to drive that home, Paul includes Timothy in the greeting. That’s not just filler. Timothy is exhibit A. A young man with a nervous stomach, mixed heritage, and not a ton of natural charisma—but he became a faithful leader. Why? Because the grace of God grabbed hold of him. Just like it did with Paul. Just like it did with the Colossians. Just like it has with many of you.

Here’s a way to picture what I’m talking about: Think about transplanting a young tree. Let’s say it was originally planted in rocky ground. Maybe it looked healthy for a little while, but it wasn’t getting the water it needed. Its roots were shallow. Its leaves started browning. So what would a gardener need to do to give that tree life? The gardener would gently dig the tree up and move it somewhere better. Somewhere rich with soil. Somewhere where the roots can go deep and soak up what gives life.

That’s what grace does. That’s what God did when he saved you. He lifted some of you out of a world where you did religious things with the hope of making God happy. For others, he lifted you out of guilt…out of sin—and planted you in the soil of Jesus. He didn’t just give you a second chance. He gave you a new location for your life. He placed you in Christ.

That’s why Paul calls these believers “in Christ at Colossae.” It’s a spiritual address. Yes, they live in Colossae, a small, mostly forgotten Roman city—but their real home is Christ. And church family, that’s true for us too. You live in Midland—you work in the oilfield, in schools, in hospitals, in homes—but you are rooted somewhere else entirely. You are in Christ.

And listen, this matters. Because when you forget where you’re planted, you’ll start trying to grow in the wrong direction. You’ll hustle to prove yourself. You’ll compare your walk with someone else’s. You’ll think God’s love rises and falls with your spiritual performance. And you’ll miss the peace that comes from grace.

But here’s the truth: You were not saved by trying harder. You were saved by trusting Jesus. And that same grace that saved you is the grace that will grow you.

Now, I cannot assume to know any of your hearts, so in hearing me explain that the gospel plants us in grace, you have to reflect upon this:

Have you truly let God transplant you into the soil of grace?

Or are you still trying to grow out of rocky ground? I’m not talking about shallow faith like in Jesus’ parable, but the kind of life where religion or sin chokes out grace—until God moves you.

That’s such an incredibly important question to answer, because when you know you’ve been planted in grace, it changes everything. You stop living to earn God's favor and start living out of it. And the moment that shift happens, something begins to grow—not from pressure, but from promise. Grace doesn’t bypass effort—it redirects it. We don’t grow because we’re trying to earn something, but because we’ve already received everything in Christ.

And that’s exactly what Paul points out next.

Colossians 1:3–6 ESV

We always thank God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, when we pray for you, since we heard of your faith in Christ Jesus and of the love that you have for all the saints, because of the hope laid up for you in heaven. Of this you have heard before in the word of the truth, the gospel, which has come to you, as indeed in the whole world it is bearing fruit and increasing—as it also does among you, since the day you heard it and understood the grace of God in truth,

The Gospel Produces Fruit That Lasts

Paul thanks God—not the Colossians—for what’s happening in their lives. That’s a key pastoral insight. He’s not praising them for trying hard; he’s praising God because the gospel is doing what only the gospel can do—it’s bearing fruit.

And what kind of fruit does Paul see?

He names three things: faith in Christ, love for God’s people, and hope in God’s promises. Sound familiar? That’s the trio we see all through the New Testament: faith, hope, and love. Paul says, “This is real. We’ve heard about it. It’s spreading. It’s lasting.”

And then he says something even bigger—this gospel that came to you in Colossae? It’s doing the same thing all over the world. It’s not just a local movement. It’s a global, multiplying, fruit-bearing force. Why? Because the gospel doesn’t expire. It doesn’t depend on politics, culture, or economy. It grows wherever it’s planted.

Let me give you an illustration.

Imagine someone gives you a seed—just one. You don’t know what kind it is. You’re told it’ll grow if you plant it, water it, and wait. So you give it a shot. A few weeks go by… then something breaks the soil. And over time, it turns into a tomato plant. It bears fruit. And inside each tomato? More seeds. Suddenly, one seed becomes dozens. Plant those, and now you’ve got hundreds.

That’s how the gospel works.

It doesn’t just affect one life—it reproduces. It spreads. It bears fruit. And Paul is saying, “That’s what we see in you.” Not just changed individuals, but a growing, contagious kind of grace that’s impacting the whole community.

Notice how it happens, though. Colossians 1:6 says the gospel bears fruit “since the day you heard it and understood the grace of God in truth.” That’s a powerful little phrase: “understood the grace of God in truth.” The original word for “understood” here implies more than intellectual agreement—it means a heart-level grasp. It’s when the light bulb comes on and you realize, This grace is real. This is for me. This changes everything.

Church family, this is why I don’t want us to be a church that just knows the gospel. I want us to be a people who live it. A people who keep growing in faith, love, and hope—not because we’re trying to impress anyone, but because the grace of God is taking root and bearing fruit.

Let me ask you this: If someone looked at the fruit of your life—

What kind of fruit is growing in your life?

Faith in Christ? Love for others? A real, grounded hope in heaven?

That’s not about perfection. It’s about direction. It's about evidence that the seed of the gospel has truly taken root.

The gospel doesn’t just grow fruitfully—it grows relationally. It spreads from life to life, from person to person. And Paul knows exactly how the gospel reached Colossae. It wasn’t through a celebrity preacher or a flashy revival. It was through one faithful man named Epaphras.

Colossians 1:7–8 ESV

just as you learned it from Epaphras our beloved fellow servant. He is a faithful minister of Christ on your behalf and has made known to us your love in the Spirit.

The Gospel Is Carried by People of Grace

We don’t know a lot about Epaphras, but what we do know tells us everything we need. He’s called a “beloved fellow servant” and a “faithful minister of Christ.” He wasn’t an apostle. He didn’t write a book of the Bible. He wasn’t a name people recognized outside his city. But he loved Jesus, loved people, and he carried the gospel home.

That’s the kind of person grace uses.

Epaphras likely heard the gospel during Paul’s ministry in Ephesus, believed, and then returned to Colossae with the good news. He shared it. He lived it. And because of his faithful presence, a whole church was planted.

Let that sink in: one man, rooted in grace, carried the gospel home—and it changed his whole community.

You don’t have to be impressive to be impactful.

You don’t have to be a scholar to be a servant.

You don’t have to go viral to be valuable.

You just have to be rooted in grace and willing to carry it.

Here’s the image that comes to mind: Think of a relay race. In a relay race, speed matters—but the handoff is everything. If the baton is dropped, the race is lost. But if it’s passed—faithfully, securely, in stride—the team keeps moving forward. Epaphras passed the baton—and the gospel kept moving.

And now Paul, who received word back from him, says: “He’s made known to us your love in the Spirit.” In other words, Paul says, “Epaphras didn’t just bring the gospel to you—he brought news of your growth back to us.”

That’s what gospel people do.

They don’t just carry grace to others—they celebrate grace when they see it growing in others.

If you’re not aware, our church’s mission is

Helping people become more like Christ

And church family—what better way to do that than by celebrating grace wherever we see it growing? We don’t just talk about the gospel. We pass it on. We share it at the kitchen table. We show it in hospital rooms. We live it in our workplaces. We point it out when we see it in our children and our neighbors and our fellow church members.

Paul didn’t bring the gospel to Colossae. Epaphras did.

And maybe—just maybe—you’re someone else’s Epaphras.

Someone in your life needs to hear the gospel—not from a pulpit, but from your porch.

Not in a sermon, but in a story. Not in a program, but in a personal moment of grace.

Because the gospel spreads through people who are rooted in grace and willing to carry it.

When we look at God’s Word here, it’s clear—this church in Colossae wasn’t thriving because they figured out a spiritual hack or leveled up in keeping the right religious rules. They were thriving because someone planted the gospel, and they stayed rooted in it. Epaphras brought the message. The Spirit produced the fruit. And grace did the heavy lifting.

That’s still how it works today.

The gospel comes to us. It plants us. It bears fruit. And it spreads through ordinary people like you and me. But only when we stay grounded in what we first received.

Now let’s make this personal. Quietly, honestly, ask yourself this: Have I moved on from grace? Have I drifted from the simple, powerful truth that Jesus is enough?

Sometimes we move on subtly. We don’t say it out loud, but we start to live like grace is the starting line, and now the rest is up to us. We try to make the Christian life about managing behavior instead of deepening belief. We shift our focus to appearances. We compare our growth to others. We work harder, but pray less. Serve more, but rest less. We feel stuck—and so we chase spiritual upgrades instead of spiritual roots.

But Paul’s message to Colossae—and to Fannin Terrace—is this:

You don’t grow by moving past grace—you grow by going deeper into it.

Let me make this plain:

If you want to grow in holiness, start by going deeper into what Christ has already done for you.

If you want to love others better, root yourself in the love he has shown you.

If you want to become more like Jesus, don't focus on your effort—focus on your Savior.

That’s how gospel fruit grows—not through guilt, not by grit, but by grace.

And the more you return to the gospel, the more it will shape everything: how you parent, how you work, how you speak, how you suffer, how you pray, and how you treat people who disagree with you.

So don’t miss this moment. As we begin this new season together—pastor and people—let’s begin right where Paul begins: grace. Let’s refuse to get distracted by flashier things or newer ideas. Let’s be a people who are rooted, grounded, and growing—because we are going deeper into the grace that first saved us.

You might be here today feeling dry. Maybe spiritually exhausted. Maybe you’ve tried to do all the right things, but grace feels distant—or even forgotten. Or maybe you’re quietly wondering if grace is still for you. If that’s you—I want you to hear this clearly: it is. Grace is still for you. Right now. Right here.

If you’re beginning to feel the weight of how easy it is to drift—how natural it is to move on from grace—don’t hang your head. Look up. The very fact that you’re aware of that drift is a sign that grace is already at work in you. Because grace doesn’t just rescue—it restores. Grace doesn’t just plant—it pulls us deeper, again and again, into the heart of Christ.

And when we look to him—when we fix our gaze on Jesus Christ, not on ourselves—we remember the truth that steadies everything:

He is enough.

He is enough for the weary believer who’s wondering if they’ve made any progress at all.

He is enough for the new Christian still learning what this life looks like.

He is enough for the seasoned saint who’s tempted to rest in reputation rather than the Redeemer.

He is enough for the parent who feels like they’ve failed.

He is enough for the man or woman who quietly wonders if grace could still be for them.

Loved ones, Jesus doesn’t save you so you can go back to trying harder. He saves you so you can rest in him—and then walk in him.

This is what Epaphras believed when he went back to his hometown with the gospel.

He took that glorious message of the gospel: the good news that Jesus Christ—fully God and fully man—lived the life we couldn’t, died the death we deserved, and rose again so we could be made new. By grace, through faith, anyone can be saved—not by trying harder, but by trusting him.

This is what the Colossians discovered when grace took root and bore fruit.

And this is what I believe God wants to do right here at Fannin Terrace Baptist Church.

If we stay rooted in grace, the fruit will come. The gospel will grow. Jesus will be glorified.

Not because we made the right plans or found the right pastor or pulled off the right programs—but because we kept coming back to the only one who is always enough: Christ above all.

So if all of this is true—if Jesus is enough, if the gospel is still growing, if grace really is the soil where our faith flourishes—then the question becomes: What will you do with what you’ve heard?

Because grace doesn’t just call for belief. It calls for response.

So here’s the call today:

Stay rooted.

Don’t move on. Don’t look for upgrades. Don’t measure your life by comparison or performance. Instead, press deeper into what you first received—Christ Jesus the Lord. Return to him in prayer. Revisit his promises. Rest in his sufficiency. And then let that grace bear fruit in how you live, speak, love, serve, and lead.

Maybe that means coming to Jesus for the first time—not to clean yourself up, but to be made new by grace.

Maybe it means re-centering your life around Christ, not Christian activity.

Maybe it means reconnecting with your church family—not to perform, but to belong.

Or maybe it means simply returning to your first love, because the gospel is still bearing fruit in you.

Whatever it looks like for you—don’t wait. Don’t just admire the truth—act on it.

Let the Word you’ve heard today take root. Water it with repentance. Feed it with obedience.

Because here’s the bottom line one more time:

You don’t grow by moving past grace—you grow by going deeper into it.

As your pastor, I’m committing to root every sermon, every ministry, and every vision in this grace. Not in me. Not in hype. But in him.

And by God’s grace, that’s exactly what we’re going to do—together. Because Christ is enough. Christ is Lord. And Christ is above all.

If the Spirit is stirring in you today—if you know you need to come, return, or root your life in Christ—I want to invite you to respond as we pray, sing, and walk together in grace.

Closing Prayer

Father in heaven, we thank you this morning for your Word—that it is alive, that it is true, and that it is filled with grace. We thank you for the reminder from Colossians that everything we need begins, continues, and grows in the soil of your gospel.

Lord, we confess that too often we drift from grace. We trade trust for effort. We chase approval. We live as though the good news that saved us somehow isn’t enough to sustain us. Forgive us for the ways we’ve moved on from what we first received.

But today, by your mercy, we turn back.

We return to the place where life begins—at the feet of Jesus.

We come with our questions, our struggles, our pride, our weariness—and we ask you to root us once again in your grace.

Make us a church where fruit grows from gospel soil.

Let faith rise up in our hearts. Let love overflow from our lives. Let hope anchor us in the promises you’ve made.

Help us not to chase spiritual fads, but to cling to the old, rugged cross where our Savior bled and died—and rose again to give us peace.

And Lord, if there’s even one here today who has not yet received that grace, draw them in. Open their heart. Let today be the day they are planted in Christ.

We love you, Jesus.

You are not only the reason we’re here—you are our life, our joy, our Lord, and our reward.

Keep us rooted in you.

In the magnificent name of Christ Jesus we pray,

Amen.