READING:
Colossians 3:1–11

Clothed Anew in Christ:

A Gospel for Transformation

Love it or loathe it, many people gain huge enjoyment from retail therapy. Clothes shopping in particular can make us feel good about ourselves. It’s no surprise, then, that whole industries have been built around helping people discover what colours and styles suit them. At one time—perhaps when there was more funding in the care system—people recovering from life-changing surgery were offered “Colour Me Beautiful” style consultations to help restore confidence and a sense of self. And for many, it really made a difference. There’s something surprisingly powerful about wearing clothes that fit well and feel “just right” for you. New clothing can sometimes help us see ourselves anew.

Today’s reading from Paul’s letter to the Colossians takes its time before it arrives at its most tender invitation: “You have clothed yourselves with the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge according to the image of its creator.” At first glance, the reading can feel like a stern summons to behave better. But beneath the language of “putting to death” and “taking off the old self”, a deeper and more liberating message emerges—one that invites us to live from a truer centre: our hidden life in Christ.

Reframing Vision: Seeking What Is Above

The reading opens with a poetic command: “Seek the things that are above, where Christ is…” This phrase has often been misheard as a call to escape the world—to spiritualise faith, to deny the body, to look upwards to heaven while ignoring the earth. But a more faithful reading, grounded in the belief in a God of love made known in Jesus, offers us something much more compelling.

To “seek what is above” is to seek God’s reign—not in some distant afterlife, but as a reality being shaped here and now by justice, mercy, and compassion. The challenge is to see “the things above” not as abstract or otherworldly, but as the visible signs of God’s love breaking into human lives. This is the love that dignifies the marginalised, reconciles enemies, heals wounds, and offers hope.

Imagine remembering the phrase “seek what is above” every time you see a community feeding the hungry or welcoming the stranger. This is not a Christian faith of escapism; it is about deep engagement with the world’s wounds. It means choosing to live as Christ would live—with open eyes, tender hands, and courageous hope.

Dying to the False Self

“You have died,” Paul writes, “and your life is hidden with Christ in God.”

This isn’t a threat or punishment—it’s an invitation into a different way of being. It speaks of the death of the false self: the self that always strives to perform, to possess, to compete, to dominate. In theological terms, this surrender is known as kenosis—a self-emptying that makes space for the presence and grace of God to grow within us.

To say that our life is “hidden with Christ” is to affirm that our truest identity is not something we build or earn. It is given. It is found in relationship—with God, with others, with creation. It is steeped in mystery and in love. Rowan Williams once said that the Christian life isn’t about self-improvement—it’s about learning to dwell in the presence of the Other: God, neighbour, stranger.

We are invited to lay down our masks and defences. Beneath them, we discover a self that is not solitary but communal; not rigid but responsive; not anxious but at peace in God.

Redeeming, Not Rejecting, the Earthly

Paul’s strong words—“put to death whatever in you is earthly”—have often been misused to shame the body, suppress desire, and exclude difference. But these interpretations distort both the text and the gospel.

In this context, “earthly” does not mean physical or human—it means dehumanising. Paul is naming the destructive patterns that dominate life under empire: greed, exploitation, objectification, and violence. These are systems that commodify people, degrade the earth, and fracture relationships.

When Paul names “greed” as idolatry, he confronts the core of today’s consumerist culture—where human worth is measured by productivity, profit, and power. Properly understood, this verse becomes a call to dismantle both personal habits and societal systems that treat people as disposable.

The gospel is not a rejection of the body, but a redemption of our whole selves. It invites us to allow the Spirit of Christ to reorient our longings toward justice, compassion, and healing.

Clothed with the New Self

At the heart of this passage lies Paul’s beautiful image: “Clothe yourselves with the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge according to the image of its creator.”

This is not a one-time event. It is a lifelong process—a dynamic, evolving, communal transformation. The “new self” is not about moral superiority or perfect behaviour. It is about becoming more deeply human in the light of Christ’s love.

And, just like the styles and sizes of clothing we wear over the years, our spiritual “fit” changes, too. We are not fixed beings. We are being formed and re-formed in dialogue with God, with others, with our context, and with our conscience.

I wonder: what experiences have changed and shaped you over the years? Who or what has helped you grow into a truer version of yourself?

To be “clothed anew” is to choose, each day, to put on Christ’s values. It is to live with Christ’s compassion, to act with Christ’s courage, and to be held by Christ’s joy. A humble, confident self—clothed and re-clothed in love. No need for the retail therapy of “Colour Me Beautiful” any longer. You are already clothed in Christ.

Christ in All: The End of Exclusion

Paul’s final words in this reading are nothing short of revolutionary: “There is no longer Greek and Jew… slave and free… but Christ is all and in all.”

This is not a polite call for tolerance. It is a theological earthquake. It dismantles every system that divides, ranks, or dehumanises. It insists that Christ is not confined to the religious elite or the morally upright, but dwells in every person—especially those denied dignity by society.

For a church committed to justice and inclusion, this is the centre of the gospel: Christ is found in every colour of skin, in queer and trans lives, in refugees and prisoners, in the elderly and the young, the doubting and the disabled, the addicted and the recovering.

This is a gospel that says: everyone belongs. Everyone bears the image of Christ.

Final Word

Colossians 3 is not a call to tidy behaviour. It is a summons to die to illusion and rise into Christ’s radical love. It invites us to lay down the garments of fear, division, and ego—and to be clothed instead in mercy, humility, and holy courage.

This is not abstract spirituality. It is lived, embodied, and grounded. It is a gospel not of escape, but of transformation. Not of perfection, but of communion. Not of exclusion, but of a widening table—where Christ is all, and in all.

So I wonder: what article of clothing might you wear each day to remind you that you have put on Christ? And what simple prayer might you whisper as you dress, grounding your day in the gentle but powerful truth that Christ walks with you?