What Jesus Over Everything Means For Your Monday
As Christians, what we do matters. But if our actions are motivated by anything other than our identity in Christ and our love for him, then we're in danger of making the story about us rather than pointing back to Him.
I listen to a lot of soundtracks while I work.
One of my favorites is Howard Shore’s score for The Lord of the Rings. It’s hard to overstate how much care went into that music. Shore wrote over a hundred distinct leitmotifs (musical themes tied to specific characters, cultures, and emotional moments) across the three films. Nothing in that score is accidental.
One of my favorite details is the Shire theme, which begins with the same structure as the hymn This Is My Father’s World. It’s subtle, but once you hear it, you can’t unhear it. Every time I listen, I feel the weight of those notes. I’m inspired by the courage of characters who choose hope, even when darkness feels overwhelming.
And so, when I heard that Howard Shore would also be composing the music for The Hobbit, I was thrilled. Same composer. Same world. Same level of technical brilliance. And yet, in the many years since, I’ve listened to The Hobbit soundtrack only a handful of times. That bothered me when I realized it.
Why does one soundtrack land with such weight while the other feels thinner (like butter spread across too much bread)? It’s not that the music is poorly composed. The craftsmanship is there. The difference, I think, is the story behind the music.
Music doesn’t exist in a vacuum. It takes on meaning from the story it serves. When the story is rich, the music gains meaning. You can hear that same tune years later, far removed from the screen, and feel something stir. Often, the specific notes don’t make the music memorable. It’s the story behind them that does.
The Story
We are, in a way, Christ’s music in the world. Our habits, reactions, and priorities weave a song for the world to hear. The question isn’t whether we’re making noise. Rather, it’s whether we truly know the story behind the song we’re singing.
Paul gives us that story in Ephesians 1.
That power is the same as the mighty strength he exerted when he raised Christ from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly realms, far above all rule and authority, power and dominion, and every name that is invoked, not only in the present age but also in the one to come. And God placed all things under his feet and appointed him to be head over everything for the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills everything in every way.
Our story, Paul says, is one of victory.
Jesus isn’t waiting to be crowned. He reigns now, over governments and cultural movements, over successes and failures, even over death itself. When we talk about power, we often think small: money, influence, stability, control. But every power we can name already sits beneath Christ’s feet.
His reign isn’t temporary or fragile. It spans both the present age and the one to come. Which means that all the pressures and anxieties we face are, and always will be, under his dominion.
That is the story our lives are meant to serve.
Tuning Our Lives
Musicians don’t tune their instruments by instinct. They use a reference point, like a tuning fork, to establish what “true” sounds like. Without that, everything drifts. That drift might be slow and subtle, but it’s also inevitable.
Ephesians 1 functions like a tuning fork. It comforts us by reminding us that Christ is in charge. But it also challenges us. For if Christ is truly over everything, then nothing else can be our conductor.
If anything other than Christ gives us identity, security, or hope, we quietly fall out of tune. Our notes might still be correct. Our actions might still look Christian. But our song loses its weight because it no longer serves the right story.
In Ephesians, Paul reminds us that the Church is Christ’s body. It’s God’s chosen instrument for making Christ’s reign visible in the world. That means our lives don’t just need to sound good. They should resonate.
Our actions, in themselves, aren’t the point. They’re meant to serve the story. And when our lives are tuned to the reality that Jesus already reigns, even ordinary obedience begins to carry weight.
What This Means for your Monday
Whether we intend it or not, our lives are creating music. So when pressure hits this week – when deadlines loom and anxiety creeps in – pause for a moment. Ask yourself what story is shaping your responses. What power feels loudest in the moment?
When we focus our song on our own wants and goals, we deny Christ his rightful authority. But when our lives are tuned to the truth that Jesus is already over everything, even small acts can resonate. A good piece of music doesn’t draw attention to itself. It draws the listener into a greater story.
This week, let your life serve the story of the One who reigns over it all.