Keep It Simple, Soul

A Reflection on the Second Reading for Sunday, July 13th, 2025:
​Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

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Colossians
​1.15-20

Christ is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers — all things have been created through him and for him.

Christ is before all things, and in him all things hold together. He is the head of the body, the Church; he is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that he might come to have first place in everything.

For in Christ all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his Cross.

Pause. Pray. Reflect.

In the last century or so, this passage has come to be known as portraying the “Cosmic Christ” (which makes me think of Jesus playing mini putt under a black-light—but I don’t think that’s what they mean). Along with the first chapters of John’s Gospel, these lines form the foundation of our New Testament Christology and His significance in all of the cosmos. Jesus, who is man, is also God, who is life and existence and being itself.

When we look at Christian art that depict Jesus as creator of the world, He’s often standing next to it, or above it, perhaps holding a mathematical compass. He stoops in concentration, like a jeweller refining a diamond, or a model builder painstakingly applying the final details. This, as humans, is how we understand what loving, attentive, watchful care looks like. When we invest ourselves in creating something complex—be it computer code or a jigsaw puzzle—we delve into a million details. For most of us, we gain our enjoyment of creation by immersing ourselves into something satisfyingly complicated and bringing something beautiful and ordered out of it.

And I think it’s easy to impose this idea onto our Creator. Surely, with billions of souls, on Earth and Heaven, God likes complicated. God must get absorbed in our lives like a child  (or adult) gets absorbed in building lego.

But God is simple. He is who is. The higher we transcend towards God, through the celestial beings, the ontologically simpler creation gets. There are no “parts” to God; nothing to piece together, solve, or figure out. So, perhaps, He doesn’t think we’re all that complicated either.

Someone dear to me recently told me about a conversation she had with a wise friend. My loved one just had to say goodbye to her dog of twelve years. The dog was always high-energy and full of personality. He brought laughter and joy to his humans, especially during some tough years. You couldn’t be anxious or angry when you were playing fetch with him. He was just pure ‘now’ and pure ‘alive.’ And sure, sometimes he did things that were a little exasperating. But you couldn’t be mad at him, it was just who he was. We loved him even more.

Her wise friend made the observation that, perhaps, that’s how God looks at us. Not  squinting critically at a problem or a project, but just lost in smitten, goofy, love. And yeah, sometimes we do stuff that’s exasperating, or we wander off, or roll (metaphorically) get ourselves covered in something revolting. And He just goes, “Yeah, that’s Kate, she does that sometimes. And gosh, she’s cute. I love her, and I’m never tired of being with her.”

People are complicated, but not to the One who made us. We’re just a delight. And if we remember that, maybe we’ll be a bit more eager to run to God with our big slobbery tennis ball (a metaphor open for your interpretation) and just be ‘now’ with him, too.





Kate Plumb

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