This is the 8th sermon in a series on Ephesians. When we talk about gifts and grace, the tendency is to idealize harmony—to assume that Christian community is a supernatural gift of the Holy Spirit that “just happens” then the Spirit moves. The reality is frequently very different. The harmony and unity that we think should be the hallmarks of Christian community are often hard work and heavy lifting. Peace is often preceded by conflict. Unity is often preceded by discord. The tensions can be internal, between only a couple of members of the community, or rampant throughout the community.
Peace and unity do not come through masking problems; rather they come through identifying problems, dealing with them, and becoming reconciled to one another.
Ephesians 4:1-6
Commentary
v1 This is the second time in the letter where Paul refers to himself as a prisoner (see also Eph 3:1). The word prisoner is part of the word group from the verb desmeo, meaning to tie up. There is a pun at work here that will be picked up again in v3. A prisoner for the Lord is not just in prison due to willingness to be a martyr for God; a prisoner for the Lord is also one who is willing to be have life & liberty tied up, or constrained by God, in the service of God.
What is at stake here is one’s recognition of the sovereignty of God. Are we, like Paul, willing to be prisoners for the Lord—not just suffering for him, but also being willing to be bound to that time, that place, that person to which he has called us?
v2 Be patient. The word used here is a compound word made up of the words for long/far and incense. Since incense is symbol of and vehicle for prayer, the kind of response to problems being extolled here is an attitude that drives one to continual prayer over a long period of time.
We live at a frantic pace. We buy ever more powerful microwave ovens so that we can heat our foods ever more quickly. “Simmer” is too agonizingly slow. We want to zap our dinner and get on with the enjoyment of eating it. With our preoccupation for instant results, counting to 10 sounds like the pinnacle of patience. The kind of patience being extolled here might be more like counting to 1,000,000 ... and praying all along the way.
v3 Make every effort. There is a sense of urgency here as well as the word can also be translated “make haste.”
Unity. Literally the word here is oneness.
Bond of peace. This is the key phrase in the entire passage. The word for bond is a compound word made up of the words with and tied up. Here we pick up the wordplay from v1. If we are a prisoner, then we are part of a chain gang. If we are a prisoner for God, then we are tied to the people with whom God has placed us.
The Greek metaphysical notion of a bond is crucial here. A bond is a third entity, joining two other objects together to form a new thing—think of a weld joining two pieces of metal together to form a tool, or a biscuit & glue joining two pieces of wood together to form a piece of furniture.
v4-6 In Greek metaphysics, the highest form of beauty for a bond was to join the 3 entities (the two parts, plus the bond itself) into a single new object with no seams, no boundaries, no indication where one object ended and the other objects began—truly making a new creation.In the bond of peace, we are the parts, the bond is the Spirit of peace, and what is created is a new community in the Spirit.
Application
Al Pacino in the movie Any Given Sunday, plays a football coach who gives his team a pep talk, saying, in part:
Application
Al Pacino in the movie Any Given Sunday, plays a football coach who gives his team a pep talk, saying, in part:
We can fight our way back into the light, we can climb out of hell, one inch at a time ... Life is a game of inches, so is football ... The inches we need are everywhere around us. They’re in every break of the game, every minute, every second ... When we add up all those inches it will make the [sic] difference between winning and losing, between living and dying ... It is the guy who is willing to die who is going to win that inch. I know if I am going to have any life anymore, it’s because I’m still willing to fight and die for that inch. Because that’s what living is: the six inches in front of your face ...
Unity comes not through denial of conflict; rather, it comes through persevering through conflict and taking on an attitude of humility, even meekness, in the midst of conflict. The conflicts rarely come in great battles; rather, they usually come in skirmishes that happen every day. The conflicts rarely come in great changes that happen overnight; rather, they usually come in small increments—inches really—that add up over time. Because that’s what living is: the next inch in front of your face.
The conflicts may be internal: where do you need to hold your tongue, or stay the course for another hour, or resist that temptation one more time? The conflicts may be external: whom do you need to encourage, or forgive, or ask forgiveness from?
The conflicts may involve giving an inch—the Bible calls it dying to self—getting out of the way of another, or letting another advance at our expense. The conflicts may involve taking an inch—the Koran calls it the greater jihad, the jihad of the soul—becoming complete, as our Father in heaven is complete (Matt. 5:48).
In the conflict, we admit our weakness; we admit our need for the Spirit of Christ to work in our lives. We draw near to God and let God draw near to us (James 4:8). In the conflict, God’s Spirit is the bond—the metaphysical glue that joins us one to another—that changes us from a rag-tag collection of individuals into a new creation under God: a community.
Sports teams call it team spirit; the Marines call it esprit de corps; Christians call it koinonia. We know it when we see it, as the community has a oneness, a life of its own.
Points to Ponder
Unity does not mean that we all have to be alike—cookie-cutter copies of each other. Unity does not mean that we have to walk, talk, and act the same. Paul’s main metaphor for Christian community is a body (1 Cor. 12:14-27) where diversity within the body is part of God’s design. Rather, unity with diversity requires that we are willing to struggle to gain an inch for our Christian brothers, to give an inch of ours to our Christian sisters, as much as we are willing to fight for our own. We struggle for the inch all the while knowing that the other is distinct and different in their walk, their gifts, and the outworking of their faith.
Preacher Fred Craddock, in an address to ministers, once said:
The conflicts may be internal: where do you need to hold your tongue, or stay the course for another hour, or resist that temptation one more time? The conflicts may be external: whom do you need to encourage, or forgive, or ask forgiveness from?
The conflicts may involve giving an inch—the Bible calls it dying to self—getting out of the way of another, or letting another advance at our expense. The conflicts may involve taking an inch—the Koran calls it the greater jihad, the jihad of the soul—becoming complete, as our Father in heaven is complete (Matt. 5:48).
In the conflict, we admit our weakness; we admit our need for the Spirit of Christ to work in our lives. We draw near to God and let God draw near to us (James 4:8). In the conflict, God’s Spirit is the bond—the metaphysical glue that joins us one to another—that changes us from a rag-tag collection of individuals into a new creation under God: a community.
Sports teams call it team spirit; the Marines call it esprit de corps; Christians call it koinonia. We know it when we see it, as the community has a oneness, a life of its own.
Points to Ponder
Unity does not mean that we all have to be alike—cookie-cutter copies of each other. Unity does not mean that we have to walk, talk, and act the same. Paul’s main metaphor for Christian community is a body (1 Cor. 12:14-27) where diversity within the body is part of God’s design. Rather, unity with diversity requires that we are willing to struggle to gain an inch for our Christian brothers, to give an inch of ours to our Christian sisters, as much as we are willing to fight for our own. We struggle for the inch all the while knowing that the other is distinct and different in their walk, their gifts, and the outworking of their faith.
Preacher Fred Craddock, in an address to ministers, once said:
To give my life for Christ appears glorious. To pour myself out for others … to pay the ultimate price of martyrdom—I’ll do it. I’m ready, Lord, to go out in a blaze of glory. We think giving our all to the Lord is like taking $l,000 bill and laying it on the table—‘Here’s my life, Lord. I’m giving it all.’ But the reality for most of us is that he sends us to the bank and has us cash in the $l,000 for quarters. We go through life putting out 25 cents here and 50 cents there. Listen to the neighbor kid’s troubles instead of saying, ‘Get lost.’ Go to a committee meeting. Give a cup of water to a shaky old man in a nursing home. Usually giving our life to Christ isn’t glorious. It’s done in all those little acts of love, 25 cents at a time. It would be easy to go out in a flash of glory; it’s harder to live the Christian life little by little over the long haul.
What would Craddock think of Al Pacino’s speech as a metaphor of unity?
End Notes
1 - Counting to a million non-stop at one number per second would take 277.8 hours, or about 11.5 days if one never took a break. How does that change our sense of patience?
End Notes
1 - Counting to a million non-stop at one number per second would take 277.8 hours, or about 11.5 days if one never took a break. How does that change our sense of patience?
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