Holiness of Heart: The Reign of Christ Within

Me: Orientation

When I was a senior in high school, I carried around a fear that most people never saw.

It wasn’t a fear of a person.

It wasn’t even a fear of rejection in the abstract.

It was the fear that who I really was might cost me my family.

I had known for years that I needed to come out to my dad...

...but I waited… and waited… and waited...

I told myself it would be safer to do it right before college, just in case it went badly.

Looking back, I realize how much shame I was holding...

...shame that didn’t come from my home...

...but from the world around me.

The world told me what “success” should look like...

...marriage...a certain kind of marriage...

...kids...

...a good job...

...a big house...

...and in Texas, those houses are practically castles...

... the higher the hair, the closer to God...

...and the bigger the home, the closer to the American dream.

But admitting my sexuality out loud felt like betraying that script.

It felt like breaking some unspoken rule.

So I lived with this internal enemy…

...fear…

...much longer than I needed to...

When I finally mustered the courage to tell my dad, I braced myself.

I had rehearsed every possible negative outcome.

But what I found… was grace...

My dad was completely at ease.

To break the tension, he even joked, “Well, I can’t blame you… Women can be hard to get along with.”

It was classic of him.

...and in that moment, I realized something I hadn’t seen before...

The real enemy I needed saving from wasn’t my dad...

It was the fear and shame that had built up inside me.

I wasn’t being held prisoner by a person, but by an expectation.

By a story about myself that wasn’t true.

And once that fear started to loosen its grip, something else began to grow in its place...

...peace.

A peace that brought me closer to my family.

A peace that let me step into a more authentic version of myself.

A peace I didn’t know I needed until Christ’s mercy made room for it.

We: Identification

...and while my story is my own...

I don’t think I’m alone in knowing what it feels like to carry an internal struggle.

Most of us have had moments when the most brutal battles weren’t with another person at all...

...but with our own fear, shame, or expectations...

For many of us… this week brings its own mix of emotions.

Whether we are preparing to travel, host, or gather with people we love...

...and people who exhaust us...

Some of us are carrying grief to the table...

...grief for someone who won’t be sitting there this year...

...or grief for a season of life that has changed...

Some are trying to rebuild life after a setback.

Some are working hard to create stability for their families.

Some are making a fresh start after incarceration.

Some are living in temporary housing, longing for a place to call home.

Some students are coming home this week carrying more stress than they are willing to admit...

...stress about grades, identity, family expectations, or simply trying to figure out who they’re becoming.

And then there are the quiet private struggles...

...the old family expectations that still echo in our minds...

...the shame we’ve carried longer than we want to admit...

...the fatigue that won’t let up...

...the anxiety that greets us before we even get out of bed...

In one way or another, all of us know what it feels like to long for a peace that holds us together...

...not just around us… but inside us.

God: Illumination (Luke 1:68-79)

In the midst of all we carry, God speaks a different kind of peace.

Let’s turn to our texts and hear what God says to us.

When Zechariah sings this blessing over John...

...he names a salvation Israel has longed for.

“that we, being rescued from our enemies, might serve God without fear.”

Most people in his world thought the “enemies” were Rome, corrupt rulers, or political instability.

But Zechariah’s song reframes salvation...

...the Messiah comes not to overpower others, but to liberate us from the fear inside us.

Fear that keeps us from living authentically.

Fear that keeps us from trusting God’s mercy.

Fear that keeps us from imagining something better than the scripts we inherited.

And notice the tenderness...

“Because of the compassion of our God...”

“...the dawn will break...”

“...to give light to those who sit in darkness.”

This is not a God who intimidates us into holiness...

This is a God who awakens us with mercy.

A God whose reign begins with comfort, not coercion.

A God whose rule looks like light breaking into shame, fear, and despair.

Here is where our Methodist heritage speaks so clearly...

Wesley would say this is holiness of heart and life...

...a salvation that doesn’t just change our status with God...

...but restores the inner freedom to love God and neighbor without fear.

That is the beginning of the Reign of Christ right here, within us.

Before there is peace around us,

God brings peace within us.

God: Illumination (Psalm 100)

Luke shows us a God who brings light into our inner darkness....

...and Psalm 100reminds us what that light makes possible...

...a life rooted in joy, belonging, and gratitude.

Psalm 100 is a psalm of thanksgiving…

It’s written for people who have known exile, instability, and pain.

Yet it declares…

“It is God who made us, and we are God’s.”

We are God’s people, and the sheep of God’s pasture.”

This is a belonging language.

Identity language.

Healing language.

It’s the opposite of shame.

The opposite of the internal enemies we often carry.

The psalm calls us to “enter God’s gates with thanksgiving.”

...not because life is easy...

...but because God’s love is bigger than the things that break us.

Thanksgiving here is not forced positivity.

It’s the gladness that grows when we remember...

...we are not alone,

...we belong to God,

...and God’s fidelity does not depend on our perfection.

Psalm 100reminds us that gratitude is not the denial of darkness...

...it is light in the midst of it.

Joy is what happens when God’s mercy begins to loosen fear’s grip.

God: Illumination (Colossians 1:11-20)

Psalm 100 roots us in the joy of belonging to God.

...and Colossians takes that belonging even deeper...

...reminding us that the One who claims us is also the One who holds all things together.

Paul writes to a community trying to make sense of a changing world.

New pressures, new ideas, new identities, new fears...

Instead of giving them a new list of rules...

...Paul gives them a bigger Christ.

“He is the image of the invisible God...

the firstborn of all creation...

in him all things hold together...

and through him God reconciles all things to himself...”

Christ does not reign like Caesar.

Christ does not dominate, manipulate, or coerce.

Christ reigns by reconciling.

By healing.

By gathering all the fragmented, weary, anxious pieces of creation...

...including our own hearts...

...and holds them together with compassion.

Paul gives us a cosmic Christ for a reason...

...so we know our inner chaos is not bigger than Christ’s peace.

The reign of Christ is not about Christ reigning over us....

It’s about Christ reigning for us...

Holding us...

Healing us...

Reconciling us...

Reassembling us...

...and freeing us from the internal enemies that keep us from living as God’s beloved.

You: Application

If Christ is the One who holds all things together...

...then the question for us becomes simple...

Will we let Christ hold us together, too?

So here’s the invitation for you this week.

Where do you need Christ to bring peace inside you?

Where do you need the Reign of Christ...

...not the reign of fear...

...not the reign of shame...

...not the reign of expectations...

...but the Reign of Christ… to settle your spirit and steady your steps?

Maybe for you… The enemy has been that quiet voice of fear you’ve carried for years.

Maybe it’s the pressure to keep the family peace at the Thanksgiving table.

Maybe it’s the stress of returning home after a semester that pushed you past your limit.

Maybe it’s the weight of grief… or the exhaustion of holding it all together...

Perhaps it’s a matter of wondering whether you truly belong… Go God, to others, to yourself.

Wherever that place is, friend…

I want to invite you...

...gently and honestly...

...to let Christ meet you there.

To let Christ hold together what feels scattered.

To let Christ soften what has hardened.

To let Christ speak peace into the places where anxiety or shame has been running the show.

This week, would you be willing to name one place in your life where you long for inner peace...

...and ask Christ to hold you together there?

Just one.

Not everything.

Not the whole list.

Just the one place where the Spirit nudges you.

Because the reign of Christ begins right there...

…in the small, simple places inside us where mercy starts to take root.

We: Inspiration

Imagine with me for a moment...

...what could happen in our church, in our families, in our city...

...if all of us allowed Christ to hold together the places where we feel most fragile.

Imagine what our Thanksgiving tables might look like if fear didn’t have the final word...

...if shame didn’t direct the conversation...

...if grace set the tone.

Imagine what would happen in this congregation...

...a community where some are rebuilding their lives...

...some are searching for home...

...some are grieving...

...some are exhausted...

...some are returning from school...

...and some are quietly holding things they’ve never spoken aloud...

...if we let Christ reign inside us with mercy and peace.

Imagine a church where the Reign of Christ looks like...

People forgiving each other.

People showing up for one another.

People listening with tenderness.

People choose mercy rather than defensiveness.

People practicing peace before they preach it.

This is precisely the kind of community Wesley imagined...

...a whole community that opens itself to the transforming love of Christ.

Where we would become a people perfected in love.

A community where God’s mercy shapes everything.

Not flawless people, but people rooted in love that our lives witness to the Reign of Christ.

Imagine a community where no one has to pretend...

...where belonging is not earned but given,

...where reconciliation is not rare but normal,

...where the light of Christ dawns in our inner lives and shines outward into a world hungry for home.

Friends… if Christ truly holds all things together...

...then Christ can hold us together.

Hold our homes...

...our relationships....

...our fears...

...our futures...

...our hearts...

This is what the Reign of Christ looks like...

...not domination,

...not fear,

...not coercion...

...but a mercy deep enough to transform the world, one heart at a time.

May that reign take root in us...

...and may the peace of Christ… the peace that holds all things together...

...shine through us this week and always.

In the name of our Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer. Amen.