Ephesians – Page 2

There’s a Christian song that begins with the following lines—

“What gift of grace is Jesus my redeemer;
There is no more for heaven now to give.”

I appreciate the sentiment expressed here. The Bible reminds us that Christ is indeed all (Col 3.11) and that his sacrifice and grace are infinite. This is the theme of entire books of the Bible—Colossians, Ephesians, and Hebrews come immediately to mind, but others could be named as well—and multiple songs of multiple styles have been written on the theme.

But for some time I’ve been impressed with a surprising statement in the classic list of the elements of salvation in Ephesians 1. The passage lays out a partial list of what God has done for us—from what Paul calls “all spiritual blessings” (Ep 1.3)—and organizes those elements under the rubric of the Trinity. He begins with the work of the Father (Ep 1.4-6) in choosing and predestinating us to adoption; he then moves to the Son’s work (Ep 1.7-13a) in redeeming us, earning our forgiveness and accomplishing our unification in him. But in this latter section he also speaks of more to come—an “inheritance” (Ep 1.11).

And here is where he says something I find surprising, perhaps even shocking. Moving to the role of the Holy Spirit, the third person of the Trinity, who “seals” us (Ep 1.13), confirming our genuineness and accomplishing our security, Paul describes the Spirit as “the earnest of our inheritance until the redemption of the purchased possession” (Ep 1.14).

The KJV, which I’ve quoted here, has the word “earnest,” which we don’t use much in this sense these days except in real estate transactions, when we speak of “earnest money” paid by a buyer as a demonstration that he’s serious about buying and will show up for the closing. Other English versions use a variety of terms here—“guarantee” (NKJV ESV), “pledge” (NASB), “down payment” (CSB), “deposit” (NIV). You get the idea.

I’ve heard lots of teaching on this concept, but one day, well into adulthood, it struck me what a surprising metaphor this is. If I were evaluating a student’s sermon, and he used this metaphor, and it weren’t in the Bible, I’d take him aside afterwards and say to him, very paternally and condescendingly, “Now, young man, the Holy Spirit is a personal member of the Godhead, equal in every way to the Father and the Son, and it’s really not appropriate to speak of him as a ‘partial’ payment for anything. That’s irreverent.”

And I would be wrong, because the Bible does indeed use this metaphor, demonstrating that it is appropriate. And further, the person of the Godhead who uses this metaphor is the Spirit himself, who inspired Paul to write it (2P 1.20-21).

The Trinity, the Godhead, gives us the Spirit himself, who indwells us, teaching and convicting and directing us through this life, and he himself says that he’s just a portion of what God has in store for us—there’s more to come.

This is astonishing.

There is, indeed, more for heaven to give.

Now, I’m not criticizing the song. The lyricists, Australian Anglicans Richard Thompson and Jonny Robinson, have very precisely, and I think correctly, written, “There is no more for heaven now to give.” Good for them.

But it does us good to remind ourselves of the limitation of that key word now. There is, indeed, more—much more, infinitely more, in store for God’s people from the abundant storehouses of heaven.

Though we have eternal and abundant life now (Jn 10.10; 1J 5.13), there is a level of life awaiting us that we cannot imagine (2Co 12.4).
Though we know Christ now, we shall see and know him in unprecedented ways then (Mt 25.34; Rv 22.17).
Though we fellowship with the indwelling Spirit now, we shall know him much more intimately then (Re 22.17).

God has given us a down payment of his very person in the Holy Spirit. He’s really serious about his relationship with us. Let us embrace him and anticipate all that is to come.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

Part 1: Introduction | Part 2: Christ As Firstborn | Part 3: Every Knee Will Bow

Our first two New Testament hymns were from Colossians and Philippians respectively, and they meditate on the person and work of Christ—the first on his exalted status as the perfect revelation of the glorious Father, and the second on his humility in becoming a servant, humility that results in the Father’s extravagant exaltation of him.

There’s another NT letter written about the same time as these two—perhaps even on the same day as Colossians—where a third hymn appears. It’s much briefer than the first two, and it can serve well as a simple response to them—an application of their teaching, if you will.

If Paul focuses in Colossians on Christ’s role as head of the church, in Ephesians he focuses on the church’s role as the body of Christ. In its first half he lays down the doctrine that Christ’s work has brought together disparate peoples into a unified body, something that only God could do (Ep 3.10). At the letter’s midpoint (Ep 4.1) he pivots to application—how should members of such a body behave in the world? Well, they ought to live differently in specific, practical ways (Ep 4.17-32). And these differences spring from the fact that whereas we used to walk in darkness, we now live in the light of Christ (Ep 5.7-13).

At this point Paul draws on what is apparently another hymn of that day:

Awake, sleeper,
And arise from the dead,
And Christ will shine on you! (Ep 5.14).

Why do we usually end our church services with a song?

There are several reasons:

Singing focuses our thoughts on the song’s message, encouraging us to meditate on it—and, if the song has been deftly chosen, on the key thought of the service.

A thought sung typically stays with us longer than one spoken—that’s why you can remember childhood songs decades later—and so will bring the key thought to us long after we’re “home from church” (now there’s an unbiblical expression!) and in need of applying it.

Music moves our emotions as well as our intellect, serving to motivate us to put into action what we have been convinced of as true. This is persuasion at its best and most legitimate.

Now that Paul has laid the intellectual foundation for our changed behavior, and has given us the imperative to live in a new way, he moves us to action with a simple statement in hymnic form, one that is dense with theological implication:

We have been sleeping. Worse than that, we have been “dead in trespasses and sins” (Ep 2.1), by nature destined for God’s wrathful judgment (Ep 2.3).

But Christ has awakened us. We have risen with him (Ep 2.6) and are now alive (Ep 2.5) to the same degree to which we were previously dead. We can see, and hear, and smell, and taste, and touch. A world that was previously dark is now bright and colorful and filled with potential.

Christ is the light. Christ, the Bible tells us (Jn 1.3; Co 1.16; He 1.2), is the Elohim of Genesis 1, the one who on the first day cried out, “Let there be light!” (Ge 1.3). He is the one who revealed himself briefly to three of his disciples as shining with the radiance of God’s glory (Mt 17.2). He is the one who will be the light of the heavenly city, which will have no more need for the sun itself (Re 21.23). And, to Paul’s point here in Ephesians, he is the one who lights our path through a dark world, enabling us as we walk to be lights to those around us (Mt 5.14).

Darkened soul, behold his glory!
Blinded eyes, receive your sight!
Sinner, leave your seat of darkness!
Rise, and come to the light!
(Eileen Berry)

Sing of him. Sing of his marvelous works.

Sing it in private and in public. Sing it to those you love, and to those you don’t. Make it what everyone who knows you thinks of when they think of you.

Sing.

Part 5: Manifested, Vindicated | Part 6: Eternal Glory | Part 7: If and Then | Part 8: God and Us

Photo by Michael Maasen on Unsplash

Dan Olinger

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