For this reason, I, Paul, the prisoner of Christ Jesus for the sake of you Gentiles— Surely you have heard about the administration of God’s grace that was given to me for you, that is, the mystery made known to me by revelation, as I have already written briefly. In reading this, then, you will be able to understand my insight into the mystery of Christ, which was not made known to people in other generations as it has now been revealed by the Spirit to God’s holy apostles and prophets. This mystery is that through the gospel the Gentiles are heirs together with Israel, members together of one body, and sharers together in the promise in Christ Jesus (Ephesians 3:1-6).

Most Bible scholars believe that, with verse 1, Paul intended to begin his prayer which concludes the chapter. But he interrupts himself to write about the role he’s been given in God’s great work of redemption. Because of this role, he has become a prisoner in a Roman jail. Imprisonment is no big deal for him, it simply offers a different venue by which to carry out the mission he has been given.

Paul’s role of administering God’s grace is his concern in these verses. He calls it “the mystery of Christ.” This mystery is what all those saints in the litany of faith from Hebrews 11 were looking forward to. It is something that used to be hidden, but which now in Christ has been revealed.

This ‘mystery of Christ’ has to do with these Gentiles (non-Israelites). What God has revealed is that in Christ these Gentiles are now included in God’s great work of redemption. That is, the work begun in and through Israel as recorded in the Old Testament. To know what God is doing in Christ, we need to be familiar with that story.

But, of course, the fact that the Gentiles were going to benefit was already known long ago. God had promised Abraham, “all peoples on earth will be blessed through you” (Genesis 12:3). So, what new thing did Paul learn?

The very same thing that all of us learn at the heart of the Christian faith: that in the cross of Christ, all things are reconciled, including Jews and Gentiles. When Paul says the word “mystery,” he very often means “the cross of Christ.”

When Christ tore down the “dividing wall of hostility” through his cross—he not only took the penalty for our sin and defeated death—he also joined once disparate peoples together. In his cross, he overcame great divisions. The people of God is now composed of both Abraham’s descendants and everyone else who believes. They all become “the church” together.

In an age in which division perforates the church, it is important for us to hear this message of the gospel. The divisions we feel are not primarily about Jews and Gentiles (though that has recently arisen again as a point of contention)—but about politics, ethics, and national identities.

But no matter ones’ politics, ethics, or national identities—all those who come to Christ in faith are nevertheless made into one body. Through the gospel of the cross of Christ, we all become “heirs together with Israel, members together of one body, and sharers together in the promise in Christ Jesus.”

We are, therefore, to live unity. We are not asked to like other Christians, to be like them, or agree with them—but simply to recognize that humbling fact that we are one with them as sharers of the same Lord and the same benefits. This is indeed a great mystery. But it is the mystery of the cross, the mystery we have been given. May God’s kingdom come and will be done—even in this, on earth as it is in heaven.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

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

In Christ Jesus the whole building is joined together and rises to become a holy temple in the Lord. And in him you too are being built together to become a dwelling in which God lives by his Spirit (Ephesians 2:21-22).

What images come to mind when you hear the word ‘church’? For many, it’s a building, such as the one at 61 Mohawk Road West, Hamilton, where the Immanuel congregation, which I pastor, gathers to worship God on Sundays, where we go for mid-week ministries and meetings. After all, we often refer to such a building as ‘our church’. We invest ourselves into that building and the things that happen there. Time, money, talents are all committed to ensure that things continue to run as smoothly as possible.

For others, the word church summons up images of people. The ones who sit around us on Sundays. Those that we have become friends with over the years, maybe some we grew up with. Some have walked with us in tough times. Others were our teachers in spiritual things. They nurtured our faith; they helped us grow as Christians.

Yet for others, church conjures up difficult images. Disappointment from being neglected in a time of need. Rejected because we walked away at one time. Shame for not measuring up. Or deep hurt from being used or abused by those in authority. Though it may seem all put together on the outside, often the church has dark stains hiding underneath the carpet.

Such are the things that the word church suggests to us. Yet in today’s text we are invited to view the church from a different perspective. To see what lies behind the building, beyond the people, deeper than the dark stains that deeply damage the church’s witness.

We are often tempted to believe that our time, talent, and treasure are what hold the church together and keeps her going. As useful and necessary as these are, it is Christ Jesus that binds and sustains the church. It is not primarily the preachers that bring in the people, it is Jesus. It is Jesus who builds his church. Even though we will continue to say, ‘my church’, and ‘your church’, we must recognize that these phrases are inaccurate. The church, the congregation, does not belong to us, nor to the pastors. People may come and go from our fellowship and church buildings will continue to be built and sold for other purposes. Despite the apparent transitory nature of things, Christ holds his church together.

In our text, notice that we Christians are not doing anything. All the action belongs to Christ, and to God. The church is not primarily what we do, but what God does to us and for us, she is the grand work of God. Five passive verbs are used to tell us how we get included in the action: we are brought near (13), the Spirit gives us access (18), we are built upon the foundation (20), we are joined together (21), we are built together (22). When we are pulled into the action, it is God who pulls us in. Already now, despite all our imperfections and distorted power plays and wrangling over the most minor issues, we are being gathered as the temple of God; the Holy Spirit already lives within the church.

The church is much more than what meets the eye, it is more than the building and more than the people. It is the work of Christ, who is ‘growing up’ a people who worship him, a people who are learning to follow his Word and Spirit, a people who increasingly live under the sway of his kingdom. People who are not static, but people who are maturing, who begin as acorns and grow to be oak trees.

It is not our actions but God’s that are most important in the church. There is far more to the church then what we see. Like an iceberg, we only see the tip. We see the people, the buildings, the programs, but underneath, far larger and for more important and influential is the Holy Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The church is not a building. Rather, we are the building material Christ is using to build his church. It is the place where God welcomes us home. Next time you hear the word church, imagine that.

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

Consequently, you are no longer foreigners and strangers, but fellow citizens with God’s people and also members of his household, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the chief cornerstone. (Ephesians 2:19-20)

If you recall from last week, Paul reminded these gentiles in Ephesus of how they were once defined by all the things they were not: “Not-Jews” “Uncircumcised.” “Separate from Christ.” “Excluded from citizenship.” “Foreigners to the covenants of the promise.” “Without hope.” “Without God in the world.” Seven negative identity markers covering all the things that the Ephesians were not.

How many of us define ourselves this way—by our deficiencies, by what we are not or by what we do not have? “Not skinny enough.” “Excluded from the property market of our peers.” “Not part of the group.” “Don’t belong.” “Not enough money.” “Not what she has.” “Not what he can do.” “Not happy.” “Without the right job.” Many of us do this. It is much easier to see what’s lacking in our lives than to see all the things we do, in fact, have.

How many of us define our experience of church the same way? By what it isn’t? “Not welcoming enough.” “Not my style.” “Not progressive enough.” “Not conservative enough.” “Not loving enough.” “Not serving enough.” “Not enough money.” “Not enough volunteers.” “Not the right programs.” “Not diverse enough.” “Not doing enough.” “Without all the people who used to attend.” “Without hope.”

Our eyes get good at seeing the things we pay attention to. And what we human people tend to pay the most attention to are all the things that aren’t there. The things that should be better, fuller, faster, more pleasing, and more aligned to our values, but aren’t. As Christians, this simply is the wrong way to see the world. It is an immature way of using our capacity of attention.

Paul will have none of it. In Jesus Christ, neither we nor the church are defined any longer by what we are not, but instead, by what we are. We are defined by what he has made us to be. So Paul now begins rattling off the positive identities we have received in Christ through the peace and salvation he has given. We are “fellow citizens.” “With God’s people.” “Members of his household.” “Built on the foundation of those faithful ones who have gone before throughout the generations, including Jesus Christ himself.”

We are to train our attention on the unseen things, yes. But not the unseen things that are missing. Our eyes are to be trained for the unseen things that are there: reality as it really is. Like a Holy Spirit stirring about, forming Christ in us. A God who has always provided and will continue to do so out of his Creation of abundance. A living Lord who beckons us to see his gifts that are abundantly more than all we could ask or imagine.

If we are to live Christian lives, we need to know who and what we are, not what we aren’t. And we need to know what the church is too, rather than what it isn’t. The church is the place where we citizens of God’s household and Kingdom gather to train our eyes to see the unseen reality of a living God at work, making us ever more fully into who we already are in Jesus Christ: giving us every good gift with which to bless this world along the way.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

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

He came and preached peace to you who were far away and peace to those who were near. For through him we both have access to the Father by one Spirit (Ephesians 2:17-18).

Jesus is our peace. He has done it. He has destroyed the barriers and dividing walls of hostility, putting them to death in his cross. And not only the barriers that stand between us people who are often harboring hostile feelings toward one another—but also the barriers between us and God. In his flesh, he has forged all of us into one single, new humanity, and reconciled us to God through the cross.

Through our Prince of Peace, we have been brought near both to God and to one another—no matter the diversity or hostility that might still separate us. Foreigners and citizens, Catholics and Protestants, estranged family members, folks with differing political leanings—no matter: all who are in Christ have been made one and the most significant word about our relationships is spoken by him— “Peace.” This peace is a grace God has worked into us. Our calling is to work it out in our daily living. That is why later we read about lifestyle, words and actions—working this peace into our lives till it becomes natural.

Jesus does not force us into this peace. He comes and preaches it. Offers it. And like a Sunday sermon—no one is obligated to take it, agree, or do anything with it. Jesus will not coerce us into working out what he has worked in by his grace. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be grace, just another form of slavery.

Remember that Jesus did not create peace in Jerusalem by overthrowing the Roman occupiers and taking control of the city, enforcing his kingdom and its peace on the population. Rather, he created peace by taking all their violence and hostilities upon himself as they cursed, condemned, whipped, and crucified him. In Luke’s telling, Jesus weeps over Jerusalem, saying “If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace—but now it is hidden from your eyes” (Lk 19:42).

But note what Jesus did do: he came to Jerusalem and preached his kingdom of peace. They rejected it and killed him. But peace was made all the same—it happened through the cross, through the putting to death of these hostilities. And on the other side—the possibility for a new, peace-laden resurrection life. Jesus again came and preached his kingdom of peace, even to those who had betrayed and abandoned him. Jesus continues to come preaching peace to all, both far away and near, offering his new life.

The peace of Christ is on offer. Will you accept it? If we receive and believe that Jesus really has accomplished a peace between God and us and everyone else—then by the Spirit, the working out of this peace that has been worked in will transform us and all our relationships.

And, because the source of this peace is in Christ, it is an inexhaustible gift. It continually flows from his life into our lives through the power of the Spirit, and from us into the lives of others—enough of it always, to cover every new hostility and division. As Isaiah puts it in some of our favourite Advent verses: “Of the greatness of his government and peace there will be no end” (Isaiah 9:7).

Hard to believe. Certainly. But listen:

God can do anything, you know—far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us. Glory to God in the church! Glory to God in the Messiah, in Jesus! Glory down all the generations! Glory through all millennia! Amen (Ephesians 3:20-21 MSG).

For he himself is our peace, who has made the two groups one and has destroyed the barrier, the dividing wall of hostility, by setting aside in his flesh the law with its commands and regulations. His purpose was to create in himself one new humanity out of the two, thus making peace, and in one body to reconcile both of them to God through the cross, by which he put to death their hostility. (Ephesians 2:14-16)

Can Christians claim to be people of peace? Some say that Christians are the problem, having created many conflicts. From the crusades to colonial campaigns, from the bloody religious wars during the reformation to residential schools in recent memory—we Christians have little track record to draw on when it comes to peace.

It’s true that in many places and times, Christians have not been agents of peace and reconciliation. Not even in our own lives. Today is Valentine’s Day. Even for many Jesus’ followers, it’s a bitter and lonely day. Broken relationships and divorce litter our families too.

How often have you or I not added bricks to the walls of hostility that divide us from others? Even our efforts at good produce unintended harms more often than we would like. Can we say anything when it comes to peace? Are we just as much part of the problem as the next person?

But if we, followers of the Prince of Peace, cannot talk about peace, who can?

It is an important question. Violence continues to erupt all around us, embodied in wars in Gaza, Ukraine and many other places. Can we speak peace into these situations, tainted though our actions have been? Can we speak a word of reconciliation—of forgiveness or confession—among relationships that are broken and breaking, even though we ourselves have helped fortify walls of hostility?

When it comes to these questions, Paul helps us out. At the beginning of this chapter, he reminds us that left to ourselves, we are dead in our transgressions. Our history is littered with sin, discord, and division. Thankfully however, peace does not begin with us. It begins with God. Christ accomplishes it.

He is our peace. He is the one who tears down the dividing walls of hostility and destroys the barriers. He is the one who unites deeply divided ethnic groups into one new humanity within his church. And he does it through his cross where all the hostilities we can muster are put to death—whether the hostilities of our past, present, or future. All of them die in the death of Christ on the cross. His victory over human hostility is total. None of it survives, such that what remains, is peace. The peace he gives, he gives freely to all, as a gift of this new resurrection life.

This is the reality in Christ which will be seen fully at his second coming. For now, though, amidst the continuing hostilities of our lives and world, take heart that we Christians can still speak of peace. The way we do it is not by pointing to ourselves, but to Jesus—reminding ourselves and others that “he is our peace.” Of course, we must do so with humility. Confession and repentance are also requirements. For if Christians will not humble themselves in confession and repentance, who will?

Where Jesus’ resurrection life is present among us, glimpses of that peace shine through.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God first given in this letter:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.

Therefore, remember that formerly you who are Gentiles by birth and called “uncircumcised” by those who call themselves “the circumcision” (which is done in the body by human hands)—remember that at that time you were separate from Christ, excluded from citizenship in Israel and foreigners to the covenants of the promise, without hope and without God in the world. But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far away have been brought near by the blood of Christ. (Ephesians 2:11-13)

Wilderness Wanderings will be wrapping up soon as I (Pastor Anthony) take a call to Orillia. So: in these final installments, we will be reflecting on the letter to the Ephesians—particularly those verses that lead us into Paul’s prayer from the end of chapter 3.

In some ways, the verses from today’s text are a repeat of the verses that began the chapter where Paul wrote “you were dead in your transgressions and sins.” Paul begins with the past tense in both places to heighten the contrast: because in Christ, things look a lot different!

The point Paul was making at the beginning of the chapter was about death and life, sin and salvation. But now he begins to work his way into the implications—what does it mean to practice this resurrection life we’ve been given? Firstly, it means working out the grace that God has worked into us. That’s what the verses before this describe. But it also comes with a change in status and relationship.

Here Paul comes with a litany of things that the Ephesians were and weren’t before Jesus entered the picture: “Gentiles.” “Uncircumcised.” “Separate from Christ.” “Excluded from citizenship.” “Foreigners to the covenants of the promise.” “Without hope.” “Without God in the world.” Of course, what one realizes is that this list only makes sense from the point of view of an insider to all these things, that is, a Jewish person.

Pious Jews were accustomed to praying a daily prayer of thanks to God for not being created as a gentile. The Temple courts, likewise, were divided into inner and outer courts. One for gentiles on the outside, and one for Jews on the inside. Gentiles could not pass through the dividing wall on the penalty of death. Warnings were posted in Greek and Latin to make sure they knew. Hostilities ran hot between insiders and outsiders. As they did at some level between many different ethnic groups.

But here’s the thing—Jesus tears down all these ethnic hostilities and barriers. He strips these believing gentiles of all their former disqualifications. Not only that, he has the audacity to bring these gentiles who were once far away—not just into the inner court, but into the very presence of God! He tears the veil to the Holy of Holies and by his own blood, invites them right in!

This is not merely an interesting point of ancient history or Biblical research. It is emblematic of something much deeper. In his cross, Jesus shatters all ethnic and national boundaries inside his church. Not just then, but also today. And not firstly by giving courses on EDI or anti-racism to tell us of our biases or how to treat one another. No, it begins more subversively than that. Jesus begins simply by bringing those who were once far away, near. Near enough that we all have to encounter one another and contend with the fact that we’re all now siblings of the same saved family on the same basis: faith in Jesus.

Together in the presence of Jesus, stuck now with hated enemies, immigrants, and foreign outcasts who have become our sisters and brothers: this is where transformation into the life of resurrection begins. Will you submit to the encounter?

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you : wherever he may send you.

May he guide you through the wilderness : protect you through the storm.

May he bring you home rejoicing : at the wonders he has shown you.

May he bring you home rejoicing : once again into our doors.

For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart (Hebrews 12:2b-3).

What images come to mind when you hear (or read) the name ‘Jesus’? A little lad hanging onto his mother’s leg in the marketplace, unnerved by all the noise, smells and people? A teen learning trades from his father? A dusty-footed traveller wandering the paths of Judea and Galilee followed by a gaggle of uncomprehending disciples? A preacher sitting in a boat? A feeder of thousands? A healer of the sick? A shepherd of his flock? An innocent person, arrested, tried and crucified? Or resurrected appearing to his bewildered disciples who in hiding?

All valid images. All valid portraits of Jesus, our Lord and Saviour. But coming towards the end of his letter, our author wants us to see something different, to focus our attention not on Jesus’ humiliation, but on his glory. Not because his humiliation was not important, nor because it doesn’t have great value for our faith and life and contemplation. He draws our attention to the truth that Jesus was able to endure all these humiliations because he knew that at the end of the race there was joy.

What joy? The joy of redemption of course, not his own but ours. In Luke 10, Jesus sees Satan fall from heaven and is filled with joy, while in Luke 15, when Jesus tells stories of the lost being found, the finders are all filled with joy. Those finders represent God in the parables. Jesus was willing to endure the agony of humiliation, suffering and death because he knew that this was the road to bring us and the entire cosmos back into communion with God. And because he finished his race, shouldering the humiliation, he sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

It is this final image of Jesus in his glory and power that our author draws to our attention now. Jesus is the firstfruits of the new creation, he is the guarantee that we will be glorified too. We have a whole crowd of witnesses cheering us on, but it is not to them that we should look. No, we need to keep our eyes on Jesus. He is the prize. We see him, there, on the throne, nail scarred hands, sword pierced body, the crown of glory not hiding where the thorns pierced him. In his encouragement to us not to grow weary or lose heart, our author does not point us to the great cloud of witnesses, but rather to this one.

But it is not his battle wounds that draw our attention, its his joy. The joy that radiates from his face draws us on. Today, we might struggle. Today, we might be weary of the bills that need paying. Today, we might be weary of the brokenness we feel in our hearts and see in the lives of others. Today, we might be burdened with the endless slaughter of innocents in our world. Today, we are called to self-denial and humility, to sacrifice, to resisting the world and self even unto death. Dying is the way of the disciple.

Jesus would not have us ignore all that. But his joy draws us forward, it keeps us in the fight. It keeps us doing the right thing in the right way, just like Jesus did. His joy enables us to suffer for his cause today. His joy tells us that someday, we will be enveloped in that joy. Someday, all of creation will be filled to overflowing with that joy.

For now, we look at Him, we hear him speak, we do what he says, we follow where He leads, we trust he will provide. Looking to him and his love, till our hearts burn with it. We see him beckoning us on. His eyes are fixed on us, radiating joy, delighting in us. He is drawing us to himself, leading and perfecting our faith, changing us into his likeness from glory to glory.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God first given in this letter:

Now may the God of peace, who through the blood of the eternal covenant brought back from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, equip you with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. (Hebrews 12:1-2a)

Peer pressure is a thing. So is personal determination. The author of Hebrews draws on both, cheering us on to faith in the race of life.

Of course, peer pressure and personal determination can also undercut faith when they run the wrong way. For instance, while there are many benefits of strong Christian institutions—there can also be drawbacks. A common story in the Christian schools is one where a group of friends pushes the limits of acceptable behaviour when it comes to bullying or partying. They look around at one another and encourage one another on: I won’t tell if you don’t tell. We’re all good Christians here, and aren’t Christians permitted to be strong, have fun, etc.? As one group begins to push the boundaries of what constitutes acceptable Christian character and behavior, others follow suit. This is a negative form of Christian witness: a witness that erodes character, perseverance, and faith among the community of believers. I ought to add that it does not just happen at school.

Our personal determination can also flag. It is exhausting to fight for the good against the wrong, to take personal stands of integrity against issues, whether big or mundane, not to mention the quieter internal battles against sin and despair. Our resolve can be cut short in a thousand ways: some of us have strong internal critics that hamper our confidence in stepping forward in faith, others of us are worn out, grieving, or discouraged, others still are impacted by the seasonal blues. Great athletes tell us that endurance and perseverance in a long race is ultimately about the mental resolve to keep going and push through. There are many reasons that’s hard to do, even more so when the peer pressure we feel invites us to consider giving up.

Enter the book of Hebrews. Over chapter 11, we have been reminded that our lives participate in a much longer and larger story: the story of God in, through, and among his people. It is the story of Creation. The story of Able, Noah, and Abraham. The story of Sarah and Rahab. It is ultimately the story that culminates in the good news of Jesus—his birth, life, death, resurrection, and ascension. We await the end of the story at Jesus’ second coming to set all things right and make all things new. But until then we participate in the story by living our own lives of faith.

As we do, the writer invites us to listen to the cheers of those who have gone before us. We have a larger community than just those who surround us at school, work, or in our friend group. It is none less than Abraham and Sarah cheering us on from the crowd, together with all sorts of lesser known saints—perhaps even some of those that you have known from this life. Those dearly loved ones of ours who ran the race before them—faults, foibles, and faith all wrapped together. They cheer us on, encourage us, and continue to speak to us through their example of how to fight the good fight and finish the race. That’s the kind of peer pressure we need—a positive pressure that carries us forward through hard times and hard choices of personal character and integrity that keeps Jesus ever in the fore.

We are not to look at how difficult the race is, how loud the voices to give up and give in are, nor how limited our own resources and desire to keep going. Instead, we are to keep our head up and our eyes trained on Jesus. This, we are told, is enough. Because Jesus is not just the one we run to. No: he also run this race and by his help we are enabled to run it to.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

Now may the God of peace, who through the blood of the eternal covenant brought back from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, equip you with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.