Worthy of the Lord: Living as Citizens of a Greater Kingdom

There’s something deeply symbolic about a passport. It’s more than just a travel document; it’s a declaration of identity. I remember the first time I held my U.S. passport. It felt amazing—not because of the paper and ink, but because of what it represented. It was a symbol of belonging, protection, and access. With it came the privileges and responsibilities of being a citizen of a particular country.

Now, imagine someone born into a war-torn nation, someone who has never held a passport, someone without legal status, access, or rights. They live as outsiders, unable to enjoy the basic freedoms others take for granted. But then, something incredible happens. They’re rescued. Not just temporarily welcomed or offered a visitor’s visa—but granted full citizenship. They didn’t earn it. They didn’t work their way into it. Someone else stepped in and made a way. They received a passport not because of what they had done, but because of what someone else did for them.

This is the picture Paul paints in Colossians 1. We were once outsiders—cut off from God, living in the domain of darkness. But through the mercy and grace of Jesus Christ, we’ve been rescued. We’ve been transferred into the kingdom of the Son He loves. We didn’t fill out the paperwork. We didn’t meet all the criteria. We were qualified—by grace, not by merit. God stamped our spiritual passports, not with our performance, but with His mercy.
Paul writes to the believers in Colossae to remind them—and us—that we’ve not only been saved, we’ve been called. We’ve been made citizens of a new kingdom, and we are now called to live lives worthy of the One who rescued us. In a world full of division, injustice, and spiritual confusion, this message is more vital than ever. It invites us to anchor our identity not in where we’re from, or what we’ve done, but in who we belong to.

Let’s explore what it truly means to live as citizens of this greater kingdom. What does it look like to walk worthy of the Lord?

Chosen and Rescued by Grace

Paul begins his letter to the Colossians not with rebuke, but with gratitude. He thanks God for the faith, love, and hope that is already taking root in the lives of these believers. They’ve heard the gospel. They’ve responded to it. And now they are growing—bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in their knowledge of God.

But Paul doesn’t stop there. He doesn’t just affirm their salvation—he points them toward transformation. He reminds them of the rescue mission God undertook on their behalf:

“He has rescued us from the domain of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of the Son he loves. In him we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.” (Colossians 1:13–14 CSB)

There is no earning in this process. No jumping through hoops. No spiritual background checks. Just grace. Just a Father who enables us, qualifies us, and welcomes us in.

Think for a moment about what it takes to become a citizen of a new country. The process is rigorous—interviews, documentation, tests. You have to prove yourself. And even then, there are no guarantees. But in God’s kingdom, we are welcomed through the door of mercy. Jesus has submitted the paperwork. Jesus has paid the price. We are accepted, not based on our performance or our past, but based on His perfect sacrifice.

This is radical grace. And it’s rooted in a deeper truth: we didn’t just need a little help—we needed rescue. We were stuck in darkness, lost without a home. But God intervened. He transferred us into a kingdom defined not by fear, but by love.

Amos 7 paints a sobering picture. The prophet is given a vision of a plumb line—God’s standard of righteousness. And Israel doesn’t measure up. The result? Judgment. Exile. Consequence. Why? Because Israel failed to care for those most in need. Psalm 82 echoes the same cry: God holds the unjust accountable—not for lack of religious ritual, but for their treatment of the vulnerable. The widow. The orphan. The poor.

This isn’t just Old Testament judgment—it’s a warning. God’s plumb line still stands. And none of us measure up. But in Christ, the judgment has already fallen. On Him, not us. So now, instead of rejection, we receive qualification. Instead of exile, we receive adoption. Instead of condemnation, we receive redemption.

That’s the power of the gospel. And it changes everything.

Redemption Means Real Freedom

To be rescued is one thing. But to be transferred is another. Paul says we haven’t just been saved from something—we’ve been saved for something. We’ve been transferred into a new domain. A new kingdom. A new allegiance.

This is about identity.

You are no longer under the rule of sin. You don’t carry the name of your past. You don’t live under the banner of shame. You have a new King. A new home. A new future.

Tim Keller once said, “The gospel is not just the A-B-C of the Christian life, but the A to Z.” It’s not just the entry point—it’s the whole journey. It redefines every aspect of our lives.

So, when you wake up tomorrow, don’t let shame convince you that you’re still part of the old regime. You’re not. You’ve been transferred. Your spiritual passport says Kingdom of Heaven. That changes how you walk. How you work. How you parent. How you forgive. How you serve.

Viktor Frankl wrote, “Life is never made unbearable by circumstances, but only by lack of meaning and purpose.” And this is what Paul offers in Colossians—a deep, sustaining sense of purpose. You’re not just wandering aimlessly. You’ve been called to live a life worthy of the Lord.

Empowered to Walk Worthy

What does it mean to walk worthy of the Lord?

Paul gives us a clear picture in verses 9–11. He prays that the believers would be filled with the knowledge of God’s will, with all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so that they would live lives that please Him. And then he outlines what that kind of life looks like:
  • Bearing fruit in every good work.
  • Growing in the knowledge of God.
  • Being strengthened with all power.
  • Enduring with patience.
  • Joyfully giving thanks.

A life worthy of the Lord is not flashy or self-promoting. It’s faithful. It bears fruit. It reflects the heart of the King we serve.

Psalm 82 challenges us not to settle for a life of religious routine that neglects the vulnerable. God holds leaders accountable. He holds people accountable. Not just for how they worship, but for how they treat others. And Jesus illustrates this perfectly in Luke 10 with the parable of the Good Samaritan.

A man is beaten and left for dead. Religious leaders pass by, unwilling to get involved. But a Samaritan—a social outsider—stops. He crosses the road. He bandages wounds. He offers his resources. He shows mercy. That’s what a worthy life looks like. It doesn’t wait for applause. It moves toward pain. It crosses boundaries. It reflects the mercy of God.

In your own life, who is God calling you to cross the road for?

Who are the people in your neighborhood, your workplace, your community that others overlook—but God is asking you to notice?

When we carry the passport of heaven, we reflect the values of heaven:
  • Justice for the oppressed.
  • Mercy for the wounded.
  • Compassion for the broken.
  • Love for our neighbors.

And we do this not in our own strength, but in the strength God provides.

Endurance and Joy in the Journey

Paul doesn’t just pray for fruitfulness—he prays for endurance. And not just any endurance, but joyful endurance.

“Being strengthened with all power, according to his glorious might, so that you may have great endurance and patience, joyfully…” (Colossians 1:11 CSB)

This isn’t about gritting your teeth and pushing through. It’s about being transformed from the inside out. Joy in trials. Patience in pressure. Hope in hardship.

That’s not human willpower—that’s Spirit-empowered life.

This is what spiritual maturity looks like. Not a perfect life. Not a pain-free life. But a life anchored in God’s power, marked by joy even in the midst of struggle.

And here’s the good news: you don’t walk alone. You’re not wandering without a home. You’re part of a kingdom. A family. A people rescued and redeemed. And the King walks with you.

Before we close, let’s consider a few personal questions:
  1. Where are you still living like a citizen of the old kingdom? Are there areas in your life where shame, fear, or sin still have too much influence? What would it look like to fully embrace your new identity in Christ? 
  2. What kind of fruit is growing from your life? Are your words, actions, and relationships bearing the fruit of the Spirit—love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, and so on? Where is God calling you to grow next?
  3. Who is God asking you to “cross the road” for? Like the Good Samaritan, who is God placing in your path that needs compassion, presence, or practical help? How can you reflect the mercy and love of your King this week?

A Life That Points to the King

You’ve been rescued. You’ve been redeemed. You’ve been qualified—not by merit, but by mercy. And now you’ve been invited to live a life that reflects your new identity.

You carry a new passport.

A new name.

A new allegiance.

So live in a way that reflects your citizenship in the Kingdom of Heaven. Not as a tourist, but as a full participant. Not as someone trying to earn their place, but as someone who knows they already belong.

This week, choose one area of your life—your family, your job, your neighborhood—and ask: What does it look like to walk worthy of the Lord here?

Then take one Spirit-led step in that direction.

Why? Because your life is a signpost. A beacon. A witness. In a world full of darkness, confusion, and fear, your citizenship in Christ offers hope. It points people toward the King. And when they see your love, your endurance, your joyful service—they catch a glimpse of the Kingdom that is already here, and the King who is coming again.

You’ve been handed a new passport. Now live like someone who knows where they belong.
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