Introduction. A man once said these words: "When I got cut from the varsity (basketball) team as a sophomore in high school, I learned something. I knew I never wanted to feel that bad again. I never wanted to have that taste in my mouth, that hole in my stomach. So I set a goal of becoming a starter on the varsity." (Bits & Pieces, Vol. T/No. 16, 1998, p. 1) That man was Michael Jordan, perhaps the best basketball player the world has ever seen. In one commercial he did for Nike, Jordan said something like this: "I missed more than 9,000 shots in my career. I've lost almost 300 games. Twenty-six times I've been trusted to take the game-winning shot and missed. I've failed over and over and over again in my life and that is why I succeed."

Move 1. Like Jordan in basketball, Jesus the Christ failed many times in his life.

We can start with his birth. Jesus was born not in a palace somewhere, not even in the comfort of a home. He was born in a stable--a stinky, smelly, dirty stable. And he was born disgracefully to an unwed mother. Jesus didn’t have the best start in life.

We move to his ministry. Jesus gathered a rag-tag bunch of men as his disciples. Despite three years with them, he rarely was able to penetrate their thick skulls, as time and again his miracles, his parables, his way of life seemed to be too hard for them to grasp. And these were the ones who chose to stick with him. He had many more disciples for awhile, until he tried to explain that he wasn’t just a human being–at that point, "many…(of them) turned back and no longer went about with him." (John 6:66)

We then get to the cross. Jesus died there, with a small handful of faithful family members and friends around. He died between two criminals. He had made a huge, positive impact on a few people; some impact throughout Israel; and barely a ripple beyond Israel’s borders.

He ended his human existence on this earth not with a bang, but with a whimper. He failed over and over again in his life, and was not even shown respect in his dying hours.

Move 2. But we know "the rest of the story" (Paul Harvey). We believe that beyond the failure, Jesus succeeds. We who are followers today look at a span of 2,000 years since Jesus was born and we see not simply a human being, but a divine human, a man with God’s fullness dwelling in him.

We hear in the letter to the Colossians, part of which was read earlier, that Jesus is firstborn. He is firstborn over all creation, meaning the divinity within this Israeli man is the same divinity that existed at the dawn of creation. And we hear that he is the firstborn from among the dead. Whether this means that Jesus is actually the first one to enter into an "after-life," heaven, with many others to follow; or, simply, that he has prime status, supremacy, in a new creation, a kingdom that is already all around us, the Bible does not specify. What is clear is that Jesus is head of all that was, all that is, and all that will be.

We also hear that because of Jesus’ full humanity and full divinity, it is through him that we who are human are reconciled to God who is divine. Indeed, not just we humans are reconciled, but all things on earth and in heaven. We see that Jesus doesn’t just succeed for himself, doesn’t just conquer death for his own sake, but does so on our behalf.

We wonder, sometimes, why we need reconciliation with God. Were we not created by God, after all? Yes, and we are loved immensely by our Creator. But all we need to do is look around us and within: we continue to muck up our environment; we turn to violence to achieve our ends; at the very least, we often think of our own selves, or our particular family, or nation, as morally superior to others, and so become shameless in our self-deceit.

When we read about Jesus, hear about him, pray to him, we might be able to see ourselves as we are–sons and daughters of God, and at the same time sinners in need of reconciliation. And we are reconciled, because beyond his failure to make humanity understand–even because of his failure--Jesus, the firstborn, succeeds in bridging humanity and divinity.

Move 3. Because of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection, the apostle Paul in his letter to the Colossians, asks each person to "live a life worthy of the Lord…(to) please him in every way." He encourages them to do good works, to grow in knowledge of God, to allow God to strengthen them, to be prepared, to be joyful.

Linda Ellis has a poem called "The Dash" that goes like this:

I read of a reverend who stood to speak
at the funeral of a friend.
He referred to the dates on her tombstone
from the beginning...to the end.

He noted that first came the date of her birth
and spoke of the following date with tears.
But he said what mattered most of all
was the dash between those years.

For that dash represents all the time
that she spent alive on earth.
And now only those who loved her
know what that little line is worth.

For it matters not, how much we own;
the cars...the house...the cash.
What matters is how we live and love
and how we spend our dash.

So think about this long and hard.
Are there things you'd like to change?
For you never know how much time is left.
You could be at dash mid-range.

If we could just slow down enough
to consider what's true and real
and always try to understand
the way other people feel.

And be less quick to anger
and show appreciation more
and love the people in our lives
like we've never loved before.

If we treat each other with respect
and more often wear a smile...
remembering that this special dash
might only last a little while.

So when your eulogy is being read
with your life's actions to rehash,
would you be proud of the things they say
about how you spent your dash?

The apostle Paul asks every individual to consider their life, their dash. Paul asks not simply for the sake of a wonderful obituary, or a good epitaph on the tombstone, but for the sake of Jesus, the human-divine one, who reconciles us with God.

Move 4. But who, really, is this human-divine one–this Jesus? As we’ve already heard, the claim is made that he is the firstborn of creation and from the dead. The claim also is this–"he is before all things, and in him all things hold together." This is perhaps one of the most outrageous, audacious claims ever made, "that in Jesus Christ, God has given the world someone to prevent it from flying apart." (Gerald Kennedy, Fresh Every Morning, 1966, p. 186, taken from The Clergy Journal, May/June 2004, p. 68)

"In one of the old Marx Brothers movies, Harpo is leaning against a huge (bank building). A tough cop comes by and asks, ‘What’ya think you’re doin’, propping up the bank?’ Harpo quietly nods yes. ‘Scram,’ the cop says, with a sweep of his nightstick. Harpo obeys and walks away. The building collapses behind him!" (The Clergy Journal) Without the strength of Jesus, the church collapses; without the mortar of Christ, the world comes apart at the seams.

This is an audacious notion, indeed, for it often seems that the world is collapsing, Jesus or no Jesus. It seems that lives are falling apart, that relationships within families and communities, and between nations, are everything but held together. And so if Christ really is keeping everything together, what about the state of the world? What about reality? It seems unrealistically bold to hold such an all-encompassing belief about Christ.

The Chronicles of Narnia, a series of children’s novels written by C.S. Lewis, feature a Lion. The Lion is a Jesus-figure by the name of Aslan, who draws children into Narnia, a land of adventure where they are transformed into young people of faith and grace. In one of the novels, called Prince Caspian, Aslan welcomes Lucy back to Narnia. Lucy is a girl who had come before, who had met Aslan before. "Welcome, child," (Aslan) said. "Aslan," said Lucy, "you’re bigger." "That is because you are older, little one," answered he. "Not because you (really are bigger)?" "I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger." (C.S. Lewis, Prince Caspian, p. 136)

Could it be that as our own little dash gets longer, year after year, we are able to understand more about Christ the King, who is so much bigger than we can imagine? Could it be that my dash and your dash–and even the dash of a criminal on a nearby cross--are somehow intimately connected to the eternal dash of the Christ, who somehow holds all of our dashes together?

Conclusion. And so, at the end of the year, I wind up with more questions than answers. I move into the new year with few answers, but with a promise, that God the Father qualifies me and you. God qualifies us to share in the inheritance in God’s kingdom of light, where all things are held together. And I thank God that Jesus came to this world–not only in triumph but in failure--to help us as we spend our dash to begin to understand an eternal God who seems bigger each year.