Psalm 48:1-14 · 2 Samuel 5:1-5, 9-10 · Mark 6:1-13 · 2 Corinthians 12:2-10

The theme for this week is God is with us despite our flaws. Psalm 48, our call to worship, reminds us that while people can let us down, God is our Guide who will never fail us. David’s rise to power, as discussed in 2 Samuel 5, occurred because “God was with him” despite his flaws. In Mark 6, Jesus shares his disappointment with the people’s hardheartedness. Our sermon text comes from 2 Corinthians 12 where Paul tells the story about how weakness can actually be connected with power.

Beauty in Imperfection

2 Corinthians 12:2-10 (NRSV)

Kintsugi (pronounced kin-SOO-kee) is a Japanese art form that repairs broken pottery by mixing gold dust with lacquer. Instead of hiding the cracks, the art form highlights them. Kintsugi reportedly started around the 15^th century in response to a pottery repair for the Japanese leader (called a shogun) that was mishandled by using ugly metal staples. By the 17^th century, kintsugi was not only used for repair but also to decorate and make ceramics used for tea more beautiful.

Kintsugi is more than just aesthetics. It also is linked to Japanese philosophical ideas, such as wabi-sabi (pronounced WAH-bee-SAH-bee) which accepts imperfection as part of life and advocates seeing beauty in the imperfect.

When we think about our personal imperfections, we don’t want to highlight them with gold dust. We would prefer to keep them in the dark. However, social scientist and researcher Brené Brown believes that imperfection can be a gift. She’s written a book called The Gifts of Imperfection, and in that book, she links our imperfections with our ability to be vulnerable, and our vulnerability with our ability to connect to others.

Vulnerability is an English word that has a negative connotation. Most dictionaries define it as having a quality that makes you weak, easily hurt, or attacked. That’s the way most of us view vulnerability: a trait that seems to work against our survival.

As Christians, we struggle with the idea that we are enough. We know our “dark side,” and we somehow feel we’ve failed God by not having our flaws under control. It’s hard to be vulnerable about our struggles, especially in church, because we want people to think well of us. We want to be better.

But it’s there, in that place of being both very good and very flawed, that the apostle Paul speaks to us in 2 Corinthians 12. In this passage, Paul talks about a mystical experience he had and a weakness that was a point of vulnerability that God used.

What can we notice about this passage?

 I know a person in Christ who fourteen years ago was caught up to the third heaven—whether in the body or out of the body I do not know; God knows. And I know that such a person—whether in the body or out of the body I do not know; God knows—was caught up into Paradise and heard things that are not to be told, that no mortal is permitted to repeat. On behalf of such a one I will boast, but on my own behalf I will not boast, except of my weaknesses. But if I wish to boast, I will not be a fool, for I will be speaking the truth. But I refrain from it, so that no one may think better of me than what is seen in me or heard from me, even considering the exceptional character of the revelations. Therefore, to keep me from being too elated, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to torment me, to keep me from being too elated. (2 Corinthians 12:2-7 NRSV)

Although Paul talks about this in the third person, as if it happened to someone else, he is evidently talking about himself. (Simply knowing a person who had a vision isn’t much of a basis for boasting, nor of being too elated.) Paul is, in an indirect way, saying that he had this vision, but that it is not a experience in which he can boast – it does not make him better than other people.

Paul had a mystical experience where he heard someone speak to him. This reveals that there is a time and space that is a mystery to us. Notice that Paul does not dwell on the experience itself. He doesn’t use the experience to set himself apart as “special.” By not sharing the details of this mystical experience, Paul emphasizes that our belonging isn’t affirmed by having a mystical experience but by our inclusion in Jesus Christ. He further emphasizes that God will do what it takes to keep us from becoming too self-focused so that we can keep our focus on Jesus.

Three times I appealed to the Lord about this, that it would leave me, but he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” So, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me.  (2 Corinthians 12:8-9 NRSV)

Paul asked God to remove this undefined weakness from him three times, but God said that his grace was enough. Typically, we assume that “weakness” means something that we can’t do. While weakness usually refers to a physical ailment, it can also refer to a lack of courage or determination when faced with hardship. This might look like our human vulnerabilities and flaws, the eccentricities that can bother others and discourage us. Paul says that he will boast in this vulnerability because it is an area where others can see how Paul falls short even while he asserts that God is working through him.

In v. 9 where the NRSV translates “for power is made perfect in weakness,” power is being redefined. Power is found by admitting fallibility and working in spite of it. This is the essence of vulnerability: acknowledging one’s shortcomings while understanding that we can still be used by God to help others. As proof, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit love us just as we are, as shown in Romans 5:8. The Son of God didn’t wait for us to be worthy before he became a human through the Incarnation. In fact, the incarnation offers further proof that being embodied, being human, with all its weaknesses and vulnerabilities, is not an obstacle to God’s work.

The Expositor’s Greek Testament reports that the Greek word used in the latter part of v. 9 and translated “dwell” hearkens to the imagery of the Shekinah, the glory of God as it rested in the Holy of Holies of the Temple. Paul said that similarly, Christ’s power was staying in him.

But his point is that God’s power was perfected in Paul’s weakness. God’s power was able to be used in a right way because of Paul’s weakness. This reminds me of the lyrics from Leonard Cohen’s song Anthem:

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.

Perhaps our “cracks” or weaknesses work both ways: they allow God to enter and work in us, and they are the way that his work is extended out of us (Christ in us, the hope of glory – Colossians 1:27). As Christians, we are witnesses to the world that God works in everyone despite their weaknesses.

Therefore I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities for the sake of Christ; for whenever I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Corinthians 12:10 NRSV)

Paul says that he is “content” with being vulnerable (which sometimes includes sufferings). Not hiding his weaknesses and vulnerabilities helps him preach the gospel of love for all humanity. He is a more effective Christian leader because he doesn’t have to hide his vulnerabilities, and he is more relatable because of those shortcomings.

Application:

• Vulnerability is not weakness as we typically define it. It can be our best witness for the gospel. When we humbly acknowledge our mistakes and struggles, we are living proof of God’s grace and love.
• Vulnerability can make us more effective as leaders. Whether we are parents, managers at work, or church leaders, being vulnerable helps our relationships. It isn’t easy, and it takes courage to admit that we don’t always have all the answers or to ask forgiveness when we misjudge. Letting others extend grace to us when we slip up reminds us of God’s grace to all humanity.
• Vulnerability embraces truth and rejects secrets. When we think we have to hide parts of ourselves because they aren’t acceptable to God, we are weighed down with secrets. Vulnerability is based on the truth that humanity is imperfect but still very good in Christ and that the beautiful world we live in is imperfect, too. We reject the idea that we must hide our “shadow sides” from God, who knows us from our very conception and formed us in the womb (Psalm 139:13-16). We are held firmly by Jesus Christ, and we are made new in him (2 Corinthians 5:17-19). Believing we are loved—flaws and all—opens the door for the Holy Spirit to gently transform us.

Redefining weakness and reorienting our minds to see vulnerability as part of being human rather than a character flaw enables us to share the goodness of God’s grace with others. It makes us witnesses to the great love of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit for all humanity when God’s light shines through our cracks to illumine and encourage us and those around us.

For Reference:

https://www.forbes.com/sites/carleysime/2019/03/27/could-a-little-vulnerability-be-the-key-to-better-leadership/?sh=6617222f783e

https://biblehub.com/commentaries/2_corinthians/12-9.htm

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Small Group Discussion Questions

Psalm 24:1-10 · 2 Samuel 6:1-5, 12b-19 · Mark 6:14-29 · Ephesians 1:3-14

The theme for this week is our redemption story, strange and beautiful. We are reminded that God’s romance with humanity is both familiar and uncanny. Our call to worship Psalm gives us insight into God working through the dynasty of Israel through the centuries. 2 Samuel 6 describes the sacred and dangerous work of moving the Ark of the Covenant. Mark 6 tells the tragic end of the story of power and pride. Our sermon is on Ephesians 1:3-14, in which Paul tells the compressed story of our faith from before creation and into eternity.

The Choice, the Plan, the Inheritance

Ephesians 1:3-14 ESV

Begin with a reading of Ephesians 1:3-14 ESV.

Ever since human beings could talk, we’ve been telling stories. These narratives—everything from heartbreaking romances to bad jokes—are the air we breathe. In Hawaiian pidgin dialect, the slang term for having a casual conversation is to “talk story.”

We tell these stories to restate our identity—to establish our image against the ever-changing background of life. This can be especially at work during family gatherings. You’ll hear (yet again) the story how your grandparents fell in love or when your uncle headed off to war or when your great aunt nursed the family through the scarlet fever.

Some of the most poignant of these tales end with some connection to the larger world. “I learned to ride a bike the day they announced the end of World War 2 on the radio” or “I started my job/retired/fell in love the afternoon the space shuttle went down.”

We often connect our personal narrative to something the whole world was watching. We root ourselves in history.

You could offer a family story at this point as an illustration.

In a way, this is what Paul does at the beginning of Ephesians. He recites the story of God’s history of salvation from before the earth all the way through the end of time. This psalm starts the letter with a note of praise that sums up the larger gospel, and the rest of the book shows the Ephesians their place in the picture. These verses are one long, complex sentence in the original Greek!

Story experts will sometimes talk about the essentials we find in every story. They might break down the billions of narratives in history into a few basic elements. Many stories deal with the past, present and future, which is what Paul does in reciting our story of faith in Ephesians 1. He starts with a blessing and a statement:

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places. (Ephesians 1:3 ESV)

Paul is saying we are blessed in Christ, and because of that we bless God our Father. Further, he says we are blessed with spiritual blessings in heavenly places. Then to explain this, he looks at the past, the present and the future.

• Past—the great choice God made before time.
• Present—the great plan to bring the kingdom into the world.
• Future—the inheritance of the redeemed universe that we will enjoy as redeemed people.

Paul’s story restates our faith and connects us to the great epic in a way that speaks to our day as well as to his.

The Past

Even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love he predestined us for adoption to himself as sons through Jesus Christ.” (Ephesians 1:4-5 ESV)

The past in a narrative is often told through the back story—the background that drives the action. In Star Wars, Luke Skywalker’s Jedi lineage connects him to the past. Romeo and Juliet’s rival families create the background and the tension of their tragic romance.

In Paul’s story, it’s the choice. This choice was made before the foundation of the world—before creation. This is the metaphysics of this story, the deep narrative behind it.

This is the kind of verse that has made for a lot of difficult discussions in Christian history. Did God choose us or did we choose him? Is it his grace reaching down to us or our will reaching back toward him?

Which is it? The short answer is both. We don’t know how it all works and we never will, but somehow these two forces work together. While this idea leads to a larger discussion in theology and philosophy that’s very important, we will only look for a moment to the theme Paul is talking about in this letter. The story of our salvation starts with God’s choice because of God’s love.

From humanity he chose Israel. From Israel he chose one lineage. From that lineage he chose one family. From that family, he chose the womb of one teenage girl and through her came to us himself.

The story of salvation is not a mess of false starts and Plan Bs. It’s not God giving us law, us screwing it up and then God having to send Jesus as the contingency plan. God’s choice ran through it all, telling the story with intention and love before the world began.

Why did he do this? Why did he make this choice to save us, knowing the loss and pain that would come in the process?

In love he predestined us for adoption to himself as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace (Ephesians 1:4-6 ESV)

In love…his will…to the praise of his glorious grace. Nowhere in here does it say that God chose us because we were the best and brightest, or the most lovable or the most righteous. Nor does it ever say that he needs us somehow for his plan to come together.

No, God did not choose us because of who we are but because of who he is. Because of his love, his will, his glory—these things will never change. He loves us because he loves to love. He makes us worthy of his love, we don’t achieve that worth somehow. And we can never lose it.

The Present

In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace, which he lavished upon us, in all wisdom and insight making known to us the mystery of his will, according to his purpose, which he set forth in Christ as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth. (Ephesians 1:7-10 ESV)

The present—where we find the rising action. The quest, the conflict—is a central element of every story. There’s no Star Wars if Luke never starts his quest to become a Jedi. There’s no It’s a Wonderful Life if Jimmy Stewart doesn’t meet his guardian angel.

Paul brings us from the past—God ‘s loving choice of us, to the present—God’s plan to transform the world in the here and now with us working in participation with him.

Throughout these words of hope, Paul describes us caught up in the work and will of God. He picks this theme up several times in the book:

For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them. (Ephesians 2:10 ESV)

“Created in Christ Jesus for good works”—there is nothing here about pleasing God or earning his favor through these works. These works are an invitation for us to join in his work in the world.

In the modern church, we can over-focus on the initial experience of salvation—“getting saved.” Crusades, Christian rock concerts, youth events all focus on this transactional moment where people get a “ticket to heaven.”

This can leave a new Christian saying: “Okay, what happens now?” Maybe there’s some besetting sin they need to take care of—don’t sleep around, don’t drink too much, don’t say swear words. But surely there’s something more to life in Christ than not doing stuff?!

The answer is yes, of course, and part of that is the “good work” we were created in Christ Jesus to do before the world was made. God’s kingdom is breaking into the world, and we are called to be part of that work—not because he needs us, because he wants us, and he wants us to experience the joy in participating in what he is doing.

So what does that mean for you? Maybe you don’t have a legendary deep jungle mission or a huge church at your disposal. You may work 40 hours a week.

There’s a story about the great theologian, Martin Luther, in which a man approached him at the end of a sermon. He told the old German, “I’ve become a Christian, what should I do now?” Luther asked him what he does for a living and the man said that he was a cobbler. Luther responded, “Then make a quality shoe and sell it at a fair price—to the glory of God.”

The kingdom comes in inches, not miles. Living and working to the glory of God, treating those we come across with grace and love, this is usually how the kingdom appears rather than dramatic crescendos.

The “good work” God has prepared for us in Christ will range from the exciting to the ordinary, but don’t discount everyday acts of obedience. This is the plan—as we see in verse 10—the present part of the story.

The Future

In him we have obtained an inheritance, having been predestined according to the purpose of him who works all things according to the counsel of his will, so that we who were the first to hope in Christ might be to the praise of his glory. In him you also, when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and believed in him, were sealed with the promised Holy Spirit, who is the guarantee of our inheritance until we acquire possession of it, to the praise of his glory. (Ephesians 1:11-14 ESV)

Every story has an ending. Bad endings, cheap endings, happy-ever-after endings—there’s all kinds. There’s conflict and then there’s resolution—the cool down, the ride off into the sunset.

Again, this story Paul tells is one long sentence in Greek—verses 3 through 14. This is the gospel in microcosm, and the ending of the story points to the future. The ride off into the sunset here is actually into the sunrise.

The word he uses twice here is “inheritance,” which should get our attention. Inheritance in the ancient world is different than the way we might think of it today. In our modern world, the inheritance is usually cash or something that can be sold.

In the ancient world, you inherited a business or property or both. But you were never supposed to sell these things and move onto a different life. You inherited a legacy—the property and life you were meant to carry on.

This is the kind of inheritance Paul talks about here. One of the main issues we run into at this point is the modern misconception of “going to heaven.”

Our ultimate hope is not some far-away place where we will leave this world behind. Our hope is the new heavens and the new earth as described in Revelation 21. Our ultimate hope is this world, right here, resurrected under the rightful rule of the true Lord.

This world, because of sin, is corrupted. However, it wasn’t meant to be destroyed, but resurrected. Like Jesus’ post-Easter body, the resurrected earth will incorporate this earth somehow. God’s dimension and our dimension will be reunited at long last.

This is our inheritance. This is our true identity as the resurrected royalty of the new heavens and new earth. Our past, which began even before Abraham, connects with our present, where the kingdom breaks into the world by the power of the Spirit. Our future is the coming together of our universe and God’s dimension completely. As Paul puts it:

…making known to us the mystery of his will, according to his purpose, which he set forth in Christ as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth. (Ephesians 1:9-10 ESV)

“To unite all things in him.” Jesus is the lynchpin, the centerpiece that brings the whole story—and all the universe—together. The human story, shattered at the Tower of Babel and so many other places, is brought back together in Christ.

The choice. The plan. The inheritance. This is the gospel story—the past, present, and future of the human story. What looks like wandering, disparate stories is one long epic.

You feel like royalty because you are; and this grand story feels familiar because it’s yours.

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Small Group Discussion Questions

Psalm 89:20-37 • 2 Samuel 7:1-14a • Ephesians 2:11-22 • Mark 6:30-34, 53-56

This week’s theme is Jesus the true king. The call to worship Psalm 89 pairs with the story in 2 Samuel, which recounts Nathan’s prophecy of the shepherd David being chosen as king to rule over God’s people along with God’s affirmation and confirmation of it. The Gospel reading in Mark also draws on the shepherd motif where those “like sheep without a shepherd” and shows the true shepherd king providing compassion and healing to the people. Paul’s Letter to the Ephesians announces Jesus as our peace who has broken down the wall of hostility that divides.

Jesus Is Our Peace

Ephesians 2:11-22 (ESV)

A sermon titled “Jesus Is Our Peace” may perk our ears in hopes of hearing some encouragement to counter all the division and polarization we see in our world today. Maybe this is the title that will relax deeply held loyalties and differences that divide us. Perhaps the mere announcement that “Jesus is our peace” will help pacify and alleviate the hostility built up between people. If that is what you hope this passage will do, you may want to choose another passage to read.

Let me explain. It may escape our attention when we read Paul’s announcement, “Jesus is our peace,” that in Paul’s context he has made one of the most politically charged statements someone could make. For the church in Ephesus, the tension in Paul’s letter would not have gone unnoticed. Instead of alleviating tension, it probably raised it. If you were living in Asia Minor during Paul’s day you would be living under the iron fist of Rome’s rule. More to the point, you would be very familiar with phrases and terminology that would be considered “fighting words.”

For example: Rome’s emperors—Augustus in particular—saw themselves as the divine saviors of the world who were bringing “peace” to their newly conquered domains. They were self-proclaimed inaugurators of a worldwide peace that would once and for all settle the disputes between rivalries. Their concept of “peace” of course was proclaimed with a sword. The blood of their rivals paved the way to unity. Using their military power, and more specifically, the terror of crucifixion, the Romans declared peace to all who would bow to their rule, or death to those who would not. The proclamation of peace by the emperor was an ingrained rhetoric all would know. Elaborate celebrations, like the emperor’s birthday, would have public speeches that praised the emperor’s “lordship” and lauded him as the “peace-bringer.”

Paul brings up other terms that would draw on very sensitive issues in their culture like “strangers,” “aliens,” and “citizens.” Citizenship for example was highly valued by foreign people who had been conquered by Rome. Citizenship would bring many benefits from the emperor and it would bring you some sense of peace now that you are not marked as an “outsider” of the state. Citizens were treated very differently than foreigners. The dividing wall between the two was significant.

So, imagine now that you are gathered in someone’s home to hear the letter that has just arrived from Paul. As you are listening to the letter being read out loud, Paul proclaims, “But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. For he himself is our peace…” Fighting words. You may be tempted to tell the reader to whisper or skip over that part. You may steal a glance at the door to see if it was locked. To be listening to such a proclamation could land you in treasonous waters. And that, brothers and sisters, is the text we have before us today.

The language in Paul’s letter may not rile up the political elites of our day like they would in Paul’s. But the content and message of his letter still does. Any proclamation of another Lord than the idols the rulers of our day would have us bow down to will be a threat. Like it or not, to proclaim Jesus as Lord, the one who is our peace, is to become an outsider in a world bent on control and power. We would be naïve to think it will not. But we have no control over how the world and its self-appointed leaders will respond to the gospel. We have only ourselves to respond with. After all, this letter was not sent to Augustus—it was sent to believers like you and me, in a small church gathered to hear some good news. And let’s face it, we are not far removed from the divisive and controlling ways of the world. Here too, we would be naïve to think our culture does not rub off on us. Paul has some reminders we need to hear today just as much as our brothers and sisters in Ephesus needed to hear in their time. Notice how Paul begins this section:

Therefore remember that at one time you Gentiles in the flesh, called ‘the uncircumcision’ by what is called the circumcision, which is made in the flesh by hands—remember that you were at that time separated from Christ, alienated from the commonwealth of Israel and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world. (Ephesians 2:11-12 ESV)

Paul begins by reminding the Gentiles where they had come from. He is trying to guard them, and us, from making the same mistake the Jews did with their differences. The Jews were called to be a blessing and a light to the nations. This is why they were made to be “different” or set apart. Their differences were never intended to become walls of division that separated them from the Gentiles. But that is what happened. The Jews made their distinctives as a dividing point between them and those they were called to bless. Instead of being a light to the nations and pointing them to God, they instead pointed to themselves as the “circumcision, which is made in the flesh by hands.” They saw themselves as special. Everyone else became in their eyes, “the uncircumcision.” Anyone different from them got generalized with a label that indicated that they were not one of them.

We see this same dynamic played out in our world today. Labels are used to draw lines in the sand between anyone we see as different from ourselves. Think about some of the labels floating around today that shut down conversation and reduce people to simple categories. “Democrats and Republicans.” “Liberals and Conservatives.” “Pro-Trumpers and Never-Trumpers.” And that is just some current American political labels. I’m sure you can think of many others that may be even more divisive. If hearing those labels made your blood pressure rise a little, then maybe you are seeing why Paul needs to address the issues. This type of division should never be taking place in the church. But it does, and Paul is addressing it here.

Do you see how Paul addresses the issue? He doesn’t tell them to stop being divided, but he reminds them of who they are in relationship to God. He reminds them that they were once separated, alienated without hope and without God. That sounds harsh, but it is an important reminder of God’s grace to us. No one is included or special by the works of their own hands. Paul goes on to tell them and us:

But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. For he himself is our peace, who has made us both one and has broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility by abolishing the law of commandments expressed in ordinances, that he might create in himself one new man in place of the two, so making peace, and might reconcile us both to God in one body through the cross, thereby killing the hostility. (Ephesians 2:13-16 ESV)

Notice that Paul is not talking about something they should strive for or telling them about some potential or possibility if they would just work hard at getting along. No, he tells them what is true. He tells them what has already been accomplished in Christ. There is no room for pride here. It is a gift of grace to be received.

Here are some of the things Paul wants us to take seriously:

First, everything he is speaking of is “in Christ Jesus.” We will not find a solution to our divisions and conflict anywhere else. The church need not follow the ways of the world in attaining peace. Peace has been obtained by the blood of Christ. Notice the contrast here between how Christ establishes peace and how the Roman emperors sought to establish peace. The elite rulers of this present evil age, like Augustus, will require your blood for peace whereas Jesus gives his own blood to establish peace. Peace comes by grace, not by the works of our own hands.

Second, in Christ Jesus we “have been brought near.” Paul doesn’t say how we can be brought near or how we can bridge the gap between us and God. Again, he states what is already true in Jesus. This is a gift of grace to receive, not a task to achieve. This may offend our pride as we want to have peace on our terms. But that is not how Jesus brings peace. As Paul emphatically states, “For he himself is our peace.” Again, peace is not found anywhere else—it is to be received in Christ.

Also, in Christ Jesus, he “has made us both one.” Paul also includes that Jesus creates “in himself one new man in place of the two.” So, this is something new that Jesus has done. We often think the only way to peace is that one side comes over to the other side, like the foreigners under Roman rule would try to become citizens of Rome. But Jesus does not establish peace by having one side join the other, creating winners and losers. He creates a third “new” place of peace in himself for both sides to flourish and be a blessing to the other. He is not trying to do away with differences. Differences are meant for blessing.

The church will become better as we come to “remember” that each of us and our God-given differences, not differences “made in the flesh by hands,” are blessings for the other. Whatever group you are in, do you view the other groups as blessings? Do you seek to be a blessing to them? To be Black or White, for example, should not be a point of division but a distinct gift for the other. The same can be said of all nationalities. Also, male and female are differences that are intended for blessing. These differences should not be smoothed out in some androgynous pursuit to peace. This is one reason it is critical for the church to maintain the distinction between male and female. It’s not a political thing—it’s a reality thing. If any of this language makes you uneasy, just remember, Paul is not trying to smooth out feathers here. He is making a clear distinction between what it means to be the church in the culture of the Roman empire. A little discomfort is par for the course in this text.

One further thing to bring out is that Paul reminds us the “dividing wall of hostility” has been broken down. Further, Paul says the “hostility” has been killed. Notice it is not the differences that are destroyed but the hostility we have over those differences. What a wonderful reminder of reality we have from Paul’s provocative letter. We do not have to cling to any hostility we may have over our differences. Differences are no threat to who we are in Christ. Instead of fighting others to acknowledge and praise your differences or to denounce theirs, in the church we can be thankful for one another in Christ. We can accept one another as the gift we are from God to the other. Any hostility we may have has been destroyed, so don’t try to hang on to it. It’s going away. Like holding on to a sinking ship, holding on to hostility will only drag you down with it.

Let’s finish the passage:

And he came and preached peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near. For through him we both have access in one Spirit to the Father. So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus himself being the cornerstone, in whom the whole structure, being joined together, grows into a holy temple in the Lord. In him you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit. (Ephesians 2:17-22 ESV)

The peace we have in Jesus adds up to a beautiful picture to live out as a witness to a hurting and divided world. In Jesus we all “have access in one Spirit to the Father.” Now there’s some unity for you that runs deeper than anything we could accomplish ourselves. This means we “are no longer strangers and aliens, but fellow citizens.” This means we acknowledge that Jesus is the chief cornerstone of this spiritual temple.

This is a great picture of the permanence of belonging we have in Christ. This is a belonging that cannot be shaken. When we see each other in Christ, with all our God-graced differences, we can look each other in the eye with thankfulness and call each other brothers and sisters. What refreshing good news this is for all who are “strangers and aliens” in this world! What a refreshing call to belonging for any who are labeled as outsiders and feel “far off” from belonging. Paul may be agitating some sore points, but he does so to call us to a family where lasting peace is enjoyed. We will not find it anywhere else. Only in Christ can we be “built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit.”

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Small Group Discussion Questions

Psalm 14:1-7 • 2 Samuel 11:1-15 • Ephesians 3:14-21 • John 6:1-21

The theme this week is God gives us all we need, and then some. The call to worship Psalm is a reiteration of faith in the God of Israel who will provide more than they need. 2 Samuel 11 is the painful story of David going around God’s provision to steal another man’s wife. John 6 tells of Jesus providing a feast for a crowd from a sack lunch. Our sermon comes from Ephesians 3, Paul’s prayer that this church can explore the unreachable depths of identity in Christ.

Paul’s Crescendo of Prayer

Ephesians 3:14-21 ESV

Any symphony will have a crescendo—perhaps a few, as the piece goes on. You know it, it’s the loud part—that deafening roar at the end when the kettledrum booms and the violins wail and the conductor’s hair falls out of place. It’s a musical summary where the composer revisits the theme of a piece and resolves the tension in conclusion, or before moving on to another part of the symphony.

It would be fun to play a well-known crescendo here from classical music or otherwise. Remember these are loud by nature and might be too long. Try to keep under a couple of minutes—this clip from the  William Tell Overture Is a good example.

In this section of his letter to the Ephesians, Paul enters a crescendo of prayer for this community. He brings the themes of Ephesians to a high pitch and draws together the story before moving on with the rest of the letter.

Ephesians, which was written by Paul in prison, falls into roughly two parts. He spends the first few chapters developing the theology of the message, then after this prayer at the end of chapter 3, he moves on. The last three chapters of the book are the practical implications of this theology.

Like a crescendo between movements of a symphony, this song of prayer brings us from one discussion to the next. Paul tells us what it means to be God’s people, and then he shows us.

Let’s look at this brief crescendo of prayer and the different themes Paul hits within it. These themes have echoed down through the centuries to us and continue to be our music.

Let’s look at:

• New family
• New identity
• New heavens, new earth

Paul’s crescendo of prayer begins with the choreography, which tells us where to start: “For this reason I bow my knees before the Father” (Ephesians 3:14). That’s where it all begins and ends—Paul is so overcome with what he’s asking and who he’s talking about that he can’t help but fall to his knees.

Theologian Tim Keller says it well: “Prayer is awe before an infinite force, and yet it is intimacy with a personal friend.” Prayer begins with awe and wonder and ends in love. Holding onto awe-filled worship and the warmth of relationship at the same time is a primary tension of prayer.

Paul knows that he’s out of his depth and all he can do is pray. Let’s look at his themes.

New Family

For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named. (Ephesians 3:14-15 ESV)

One of the things about the ancient world that we don’t understand as moderns is how disparate and divided it was. The tribes, the locales and the different strata of society stayed separate from each other.

One of the major distinctions of the early Christians was gathering around the communion table as equals. Greeks, Jews, Romans, Macedonians, as well as masters and slaves met as one family in worship. This was unheard of in the time Paul wrote this letter and was highly disruptive to the social order.

Religion in that society could be very divided as well. It was often tied to your local or tribal identity. The idea of one supreme, unifying truth was foreign to them. One of the issues of the early church was that people wanted to add Jesus to the collection of gods they already had. The gospel called them to worship the one true God.

The fragmentation of the world is a common theme in Ephesians. Paul writes a few chapters before “… as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth” (Ephesians 1:10). Jesus is the lynchpin of the universe, the key that opens the door. The Greek here says that everything “comes to a head” in Jesus.

Paul also connects them to the past. He talks about how every family in heaven and on earth takes its name from God. He’s writing to a Gentile audience, and one of the early discussions was how their story connected with the thoroughly Jewish story of Jesus.

Paul, the apostle to Gentiles, works on this connection through this writing. He proclaims here that all the families in the diverse, disconnected ancient world have one name. The Israelite story brought us Jesus and he is Lord of all.

A new family—a new unity that heals the fragmentation of the world. And if segmentation and fragmentation don’t remind you of the modern world, then you haven’t been looking around.

Most of the developed world spends 6-10 hours a day online. There are over 14 billion mobile devices (cell phones, etc.) in the world today. Television did enough to kill conversations when we all watched shows together, now everyone has their own screen in their pocket!

Instead of a harmonious, connected world, we live in the age of distracted co-existence. Instead of messages, we tweet. Instead of conversations, we text.

Paul calls us to live against this. To meet for worship and prayer together, to depend on each other, even belong to each other (Romans 12:5). He calls us to express what is the very center of the triune God—unity.

New identity

So that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith—that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. (Ephesians 3:17-19 ESV)

The poor beggar is a secret prince. The chambermaid is a princess. The estranged stepdaughter is magical royalty. The ugly duckling is a swan. The theme of identity—forgotten and remembered, lost and discovered—weaves throughout the myths and narratives of all of history. The human longing for true identity drives stories all across the world. The current fascination with super-heroes speaks to this as well.

Paul’s crescendo of prayer moves on to his audience discovering their true identity in Christ. He acknowledges this driving need of our humanity and says that it finds its end in Jesus.

His prayer is not for them to start a huge successful ministry. His prayer also is not for healing of physical ailments or the end of political oppression. He doesn’t even call them in this moment to change their behavior.

His only call for them is to be. His prayer is that they will fully live into who they are in Christ.

Paul talks about God dwelling and interacting with us “together with all the saints” (Ephesians 3:18). He calls the Ephesians to explore that fully and he prays they have eyes to see it—to reach into its length, height and depth.

Too often we are human doings, not human beings, and the same is true in our walk of faith. Paul is reminding us to have our identity in Christ, rather than in what we do, to fully explore what it means to be in Christ, to stop and live in that. This passage calls us to live in Christ.

New Heavens, New Earth

Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen. (Ephesians 3:20-21 ESV)

Throughout the New Testament, the return of Christ is a theme of hope and mystery. From his own discussions of it to John’s cosmic visions in Revelation, the message has always been that the story is still incomplete, there’s more to come.

Having talked about the past and connected us with the story of Israel, Paul turns toward the future. He connects all the story of the human family, brought together under Christ. Then he turns to Christ, glorified through all generations.

Paul gets explicit here by talking not only about Jesus’ life and teaching, but about Jesus’ mysterious cosmic identity as the Son of God. Paul makes it clear that he’s not just talking about a local deity or a philosopher hero—he’s talking about Jesus, who sums up all there is in the universe.

This is what he wants believers in and around Ephesus to understand. Paul likely sent this letter into the area around Ephesus, to several churches he had planted in the region. As an epicenter of religions of the day, Ephesus was dominated by a giant temple to Artemis, a Greek goddess of hunting and wilderness. This temple was considered one of the wonders of the ancient world, and stood 450 feet long, 250 feet wide and 60 feet high. By the standards of the ancient world, it was a palace.

With this theological and religious culture in the air, the Ephesians needed to hear these cosmic truths about Jesus. They needed to understand he wasn’t a Jewish political figure or another prophet or one of their poets or soothsayers. Jesus is the end that all the impulses and signposts point to.

Paul’s language is what we need to hear today. In our separated, individualistic society, people regard so many things as personal choices, especially faith. What “works for me” is the new measure of reality. Matters of faith—which should involve absolute truths and coherent thought—are now just matters of opinion.

Faith then becomes as meaningful as your choice of sports team or your preference for a hairstyle. Paul’s language of a new heavens and new earth and Jesus the cosmic king of it all speaks against this. The paradox of the gospel is to hold these truths in tension—Jesus is your best friend and he’s also the emperor of the universe.

In our time, we err on the side of Jesus being our own personal experience. Jesus as my buddy who is subjective and meant for my own personal edification and comfort. At other times in history, think during the Holy Roman Empire, Jesus is portrayed as so conquering and powerful that he was unapproachable. How do we hold these realities in tension?

I think we come back to where Paul started—on his knees. “For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named” (Ephesians 3:14-15 ESV).

We need to be on our knees in worship of the God who brings us together in a new family, who gives us a new identity, and who will come again to bring the new heavens and the new earth.

New family: No matter our background or social status, if you know Christ, you are part of the family. Other people are, too – they just don’t know it yet.

New identity: People resonate with stories of hidden royalty because people yearn for a significance greater than what they currently feel. The truth is that we are more significant that what it looks like on the surface. We are hidden royalty. Christ won your identity in his finished work on the cross, and nothing can change that.

New heavens, new earth: The picture we see is incomplete. We know how this will end, but we are still in the time between the times. Jesus, who lives in our hearts and rules the universe at the same time, is still writing the story.

This is Paul’s crescendo of prayer, may it sound again and again.

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Small Group Discussion Questions