Original Meaning

Introduction to the Prayer (1:15–16)

“FOR THIS REASON” points back to the doxology, which affirms the foundational character of that passage. The theology of the doxology motivates everything else in the letter and should be reread in connection with each new section. The way God has worked to accomplish salvation motivates both Paul’s praise and his intercession. The intent of this prayer is that people will know in their own lives the benefits mentioned in the doxology.

“Faith in the Lord Jesus” is not Paul’s usual way of talking about Jesus as the object of faith, though other passages in the Pauline letters do occasionally speak of Jesus in this manner (1:13; Col. 1:4 [cf. Philem. 5]; likely Rom. 3:25; Gal. 3:26; 1 Tim. 3:13; 2 Tim. 3:15). The designation “the Lord Jesus” appears in Ephesians only here, but it does occur in Paul’s other letters, especially the Thessalonian correspondence. At times the name “Jesus” may carry an emphasis on the historical character of the person, but no such nuance seems intended here. Variations in the names for Jesus and their order occur with no distinction intended.

Faith in Christ leads unavoidably to “love” for others whom God has set apart for himself in Christ. Note the trilogy of faith, love, and hope that appears here and in at least nine other New Testament passages.2 Whereas in this text Paul has heard of his addressees’ faith and love and prays they may know hope, in Colossians hope seems to be the basis of faith and love. A variety of nuances exists in the ways the trilogy is used. That these three occur together so frequently in early church writings is no accident. They are foundational terms for Christianity, and along with grace and truth, summarize the gospel and its consequences.3

Verses 15–16 suggest Paul may not have even known the recipients, but he has heard of their faith and life. On that basis he has a rapport with them and intercedes for them. That Paul does not stop praying for them is a figurative way of saying that he prays for them regularly. Similar ideas are expressed in many of the opening prayers of his letters (see esp. Rom. 1:9–10).

Bridging Contexts

BRINGING THIS PASSAGE into our modern world involves analysis of both the biblical culture and our own. In bridging by necessity we look at ourselves. Sometimes the ancient culture is not distant, and the process seems more like looking in a mirror. That will partly be the case in this passage.

Paul’s prayer in 1:15–20 is directly relevant and easily appropriated—as relevant for us now as it was when it was first written. It reveals both a conviction about the importance of prayer and a commitment to other believers. The emotional tone of 1:15–16 shows how encouraging the news was that Paul had received about his readers’ faith and love. It also shows the depth of relation he felt with people he probably had never met. They were important to him and his faith, and they were an occasion of thanksgiving that bound him closer to God. Paul’s example encouraged his readers to pray continually for all of God’s people (cf. 6:18, where this becomes an exhortation).

Paul speaks of the love his readers have “for all the saints” (1:15). Did they limit their love to the saints? Some critics complain that the New Testament authors were too internally directed. But letters like Ephesians are not full explanations of the church’s thinking. Especially in writings directed to believers, we should expect to hear of love for believers, and surely it is appropriate for them to take the approach reflected in Galatians 6:10 (“Let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers”). People concerned to share the message cannot remain focused on their own little group (see 3:8–9; 6:18–20). But we cannot know and care for everyone at the same level. Knowledge about people and respect for them leads to commitment to them and concern for them. That is what is reflected in this prayer.

Like the doxology in 1:3–14, Paul’s prayer is theocentric and Trinitarian. His understanding of God and of God’s actions is the basis of his prayer and shows through in his prayer. True prayer is always this way; it expresses a theology and therefore requires careful reflection and meditation on the kind of God to whom we are praying. We must examine the theological assumptions on which the prayer rests.

The Spirit and insight. Paul’s request that God give a Spirit of wisdom and revelation is not a prayer for a second work of the Spirit or for something special for a few Christians. Rather, he wants all his readers to know the continual revealing work of God’s Spirit and by that know God. One of the main tasks of the Spirit is to help Christians know what God has given them (1 Cor. 2:12). Philip Melanchthon said, “To know Christ is to know his benefits.”29 Paul’s prayer in effect says, “By knowing God’s benefits, you will know God.” As in the doxology, God is viewed as a giver, who by giving makes himself known. Knowing God happens neither accidentally nor by magic. The Spirit makes possible knowledge of both God and his benefits.

The Spirit has both been given to us as the seal and guarantee of salvation (1:13–14) and is being given to us as the one who helps us understand God. Christian living requires a continual openness to the Spirit and his communication to us, not about strange mysteries, but about what Christians have in the gospel and about its significance for life. The gospel tells us what God has revealed about his character and his intent for humans.

Christians continually need insight into the faith, for they have a darkness that needs enlightening (1:17–18). This darkness is the result of sin as well as a human inability to grasp the magnificence of God and the enormity of his work in Christ. Despite our twentieth-century advance of knowledge, this is as true now as it was in the first century. God addresses our limitation and darkness and through his Spirit helps us to overcome this deficiency and to keep us ever learning about God and Christ.

Hope. Our culture offers no basis for hope. Meaninglessness we know; hope we do not. Death haunts all of us. For all its advantages, our society is frayed and has problems so enormous we have given up on solving them. Crime, poverty, human stupidity, racism, terrorism, and various other “isms” threaten to undo us. The elderly read the obituaries first. The young have lost a sense of hope of making a difference or of being “successful,” and their music shows it. Middle-aged people are bored. In other countries the addition of war and famine to the list make the situation absolutely stifling. We have a sense that we cannot solve our problems—either individually or socially. This loss of hope for the present is based on a loss of hope for the future. It is as if society has AIDS and seeks only to drain out of the present all it can. Is hope possible?

Hope was as rare a commodity in the first-century world Paul addressed as it is today. Fate, determinism, and despair dominated the ancient world. People had little hope of being able to better their situation. A common epitaph read, “I was not, I was, I am not, I don’t care.” Life—for all its joy—has always been difficult and oppressive. People felt manipulated by unseen forces, and religion was a only way to find protection from bad luck, sickness, and evil powers.

Religion has always been and still is the means by which people attempt to deal with meaninglessness and evil, and rightly so. Karl Marx is noted for saying, “Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people.”30 The truth is that all humans live as oppressed creatures, oppressed by meaninglessness and evil—both our own and that of other people. In our society we attempt to insulate ourselves from despair with movies, television, and other forms of entertainment. We are taught from an early age that “they all lived happily ever after,” and we pursue this illusion. While life and God’s creation are good and are to be enjoyed, we must always remember the truth that there are no happy endings—at least in this life. We must all deal with meaninglessness, evil, sickness, and death.

God’s work in Christ addresses our meaninglessness, the problem of evil, and death. Christianity is a great religion for people who know they are desperate, and the truth is that all humans feel desperate—even when they try to deny it. Even Martin Luther’s last words on his deathbed were, “We are all beggars.”

But death is not the end. We can look forward to a happy ending of life with God. Hope is therefore a positive force. God has built a bridge from no hope to hope in his creation of life in the midst of death. Hope is a life-changing experience. Paul does not present an other-worldly, pie-in-the-sky theology, but he does view God’s work in the resurrection as a cosmic event that has changed the course of history. He therefore prayed that people might know what God’s call meant for their future and, therefore, for their present. In our society, people—including Christians—care primarily only for the present. But if God has called us to be among his future people, hope changes everything and becomes the basis from which we live in the present.

Paul’s prayer points to God’s power to bring life from death—a power available both now so that we can deal with the death in which we live and for the future when the dead are raised. In 1:21 Paul points to the present age and the one to come. The early church believed that the new age had already begun because of two events—the resurrection of Jesus and the pouring out of the Holy Spirit (see 1:13–14, 20–21; cf. Acts 2:17–36; 1 Cor. 15:20–28). The hope was grounded in Christ’s resurrection and in Pentecost. Because of their hope Christians live “between the times”—residents of both this age and of the coming age. The next chapter (2:6) will assert that Christians too have already been raised and exalted with Christ. The future has already been set in motion by God’s resurrection of Christ, and Christians live from their future, the future God has established for them. This requires a change in our worldview—a change from meaninglessness to an awareness that God’s new age has begun and hope is given to us.

Power and the powers (1:19–21). Perhaps the greatest difficulties in hearing this text come at two points: belief in the power of God, and the question of the relevance of the rulers and powers. (1) Belief in God’s power may be easy in the abstract, but can people today really believe in the resurrection or in the availability of God’s power for living? Christianity is a religion about power,31 for it focuses on the resurrection and exaltation of Christ. Modern Christianity sometimes makes the mistake of focusing on the death of Jesus or on various ethical ideas, treating the resurrection as almost an afterthought. Instead, the focus must be on the “twin event”32 of the death and resurrection, with the understanding that a third event, the pouring out of the Spirit, flows directly from the resurrection. All else derives from these three events.

The ancient world was no more eager to believe in the resurrection than we are, for it did not fit their worldview. But we must not judge this teaching from our old worldview. The death and resurrection of Christ assault our worldview and value system and replace them with a worldview and values that do justice to the God who gives life in the midst of death. Faith affirms the life-giving power of God, available both for living and dying, and looks beyond death to resurrection and future life. This conviction rests on the witness of the early church, the Scriptures, and the present work of God, though it awaits verification at the end of time.

(2) The text does not give a full explanation of power and its effect in the lives of believers. Rather, the focus is on freedom from spiritual powers. In the ancient world people had an extraordinary fear of hostile spiritual powers. Health, love, and success were all at the mercy of spiritual influences. This is the reason that magic, amulets, charms, astrological beliefs, and certain religious practices were so important, especially in Ephesus. “Less advanced” cultures today may still have similar attitudes, but much of the modern Western world has nothing matching this inordinate fear.

At the same time, surprisingly, our culture is schizophrenic in its attitude toward spiritual powers. On the one hand, our “scientific” worldview rejects any belief in spiritual beings, demons, angels, and the like. On the other hand, much of our society still is superstitious, accepts astrology, and is fascinated with thought about spiritual beings. The “psychic network” is a multimillion dollar industry. The recent influence of the new age movement has made language about “spirit guides” and angels common. Right in the middle of our “scientific” culture, major news magazines and television series focus on angels. In most cases, however, despite movies about demon possession, our culture focuses only on positive spiritual powers. Our society does not fear spiritual forces or blame them for things that go wrong; rather, it looks to them for assistance and good luck.

On the other hand, some Christians in recent years, unlike the surrounding culture, have focused more on the negative role of spiritual forces. Instead of helpers, Christians view these forces as oppressive and threatening beings, and they become concerned with “binding Satan,” identifying “territorial spirits,” and wrestling with evil. This current focus does not derive from the Bible, or it is at least unbalanced. Far more attention is being given to demons than the New Testament evidence warrants.

How should we deal with the New Testament evidence of spiritual powers? Is our atmosphere filled with good and evil forces that impact our lives? Or should we “demythologize” principalities and powers and understand that we are not dealing with spiritual beings, but with structures and systems in society and in life—governments, political structures, the character of companies or industries, historical constraints, racism, and the like?

As might be expected, these subjects are receiving increased scholarly attention. The largest recent study is the three-volume work by Walter Wink.33 He has tried to deal with principalities and powers without demythologizing them, but in the end he does. He brackets the “ontological” question of whether such spiritual beings exist so that he can deal with the fact of evil and spiritual realities. One can appreciate his attempt. All of us—regardless of our beliefs—have to deal with the fact of evil. But, we cannot investigate spiritual powers by any empirical method, and therefore we can never prove or disprove their existence. No appropriate lab exists in which to do the research. However, we cannot bracket the ontological question, for if we do so, we can as easily bracket the ontological question with regard to the existence of God.

The problem is that we think we must explain all things. We cannot. Being human means being incomplete and not knowing all the answers. This is one area where answers are difficult to find, and the danger is always of saying more than we are entitled to say. Especially with this subject, we should “not go beyond what is written” (1 Cor. 4:6), for when we do, we are almost certainly wrong. Frank Peretti’s novels focusing on demons and angels are a violation of Christian thinking, for they engage in speculation that does not do justice to the balance and reserve of the Bible.34 Christian thinking must always ask, “Where is it written?”

The problems increase when our experience of evil goes beyond what the text treats. Not everything is in the Bible, but we must be careful of canonizing experiences we may have interpreted through distorted lenses and under the influence of ideas derived from other people, be they Dante or Peretti. Anchoring our thinking to the biblical concerns will not be as much fun, but it will give us what we need for life.

We will be facing principalities and powers elsewhere in this letter, but here the issue is clear. Without doubt, Paul thought about spiritual beings, but their existence is of little consequence for him. He hardly cared about the principalities and powers in and of themselves. His main goal was to show their subjection and defeat, as if to say, “Whatever is there has been defeated by and is under Christ’s control.” We need to put the emphasis precisely where he did.

Christ and his church (1:22–23). These two verses may seem largely irrelevant, especially with the difficulty in knowing how to take verse 23. That Christ is called the head over all things is a metaphorical way of emphasizing one of the most important confessions of the early church—“Jesus is Lord.” If our interpretation of verse 23b is correct, Christ is the one who conveys God to us. This is a crucial theological conviction, for if Jesus is Lord and embodies the fullness of God, then he defines reality with clarity so that people know what life is really about.

Furthermore, these verses emphasize that Jesus is Lord over all things for the benefit of the church. The church is so intimately bound to Christ that it is his body and participates in his life and reign. The intimacy of this relationship goes well beyond what most Christians think they are doing when they “make a decision” to believe in Christ. If this theology is taken seriously, the church—and its individual members—occupies a place of privilege and benefit that is astounding. We are intimately involved with the One who embodies and communicates the very fullness of God.

Summary. In sum, Paul’s prayer for understanding in 1:15–23 expresses a theology that embodies the following:

An ecclesiology of interrelatedness, shown both at the beginning with the focus on love and prayer and at the end with the mention of the body drawing from the fullness that is in Christ

A theology of the Spirit as the revealer, continually at work in the lives of believers to help them understand what they have from God and thereby to know God

A theology of God, who wants his people and works to bring them to himself

A Christology of exaltation, emphasizing the resurrection and the exaltation of Christ to the highest honor with God; he is Lord, and all that exists is made subservient to him.

Contemporary Significance

THIS TEXT DOES not give specific directions for life, but it mirrors life and lays a foundation for life. The focus on the cosmic nature of God’s work in Christ will not allow an individualistic appropriation of the text. The text implies the kind of community the church should be.

(1) The church is a worldwide caring community. Markus Barth is correct in saying that we cannot love everybody.35 Our minds are too small to have a frame of reference so inclusive. But our love cannot be confined to the limits of our own specific community. We need a sense of a larger and broader movement of God and of our own involvement with other Christians. Note how Paul cared for and invested in Christians he did not even know. He was not just attempting to build an empire for himself, but he took seriously his belief in the body of Christ. Those other people were intimately involved with him because of their mutual faith. Such involvement with other Christians keeps us from being myopic and parochial, and it keeps both churches and pastors from being “lone rangers.” Loneliness, a sense of being too small for the task, and pride all have a difficult time surviving when a person has a sense of being involved with other Christians in the body of Christ.

Paul felt a deep attachment to Christians everywhere, and so should we. Although we should be involved with non-Christians, the focus in this text is on the depth of sharing with other believers that comes from belonging to Christ. Being part of Christ means being part of the others in Christ and working with them in behalf of God’s kingdom.

(2) Because Christians care for other people, the church is a praying community. To pray is to remember “who owns the house.”36 This is God’s world and the people in it are his. The church is not an independent, self-determining group; it is a community that acknowledges it is owned and therefore under direction. Our regular practice should include praying for other Christians—even ones we do not know. Through such prayers we acknowledge we all belong to the same God and that we participate together in a common God-given mission. Knowledge of the faith and love of others should lead to thanksgiving, for we benefit when they succeed. We are one with those in Christ and share life in Christ with them.

(3) The church is a thinking community. The focus on the enlightenment of the mind in verse 18 introduces an important, but too frequently ignored, part of Paul’s thinking. Too many Christians are passive in their thinking and learning or have an anti-intellectual bias. Part of this is understandable, for “intellectualism” has often been destructive and arrogant, but Christians have recoiled with an anti-intellectualism that leads to ignorance. We do not ward off intellectual attack by being less thoughtful!

Christians are not the only ones guilty of anti-intellectualism. We live in a society that has largely stopped thinking. The complexity of life and the overload of information available today has driven us to trite television shows and spectator sports as our main areas of mental stimulation. This text does not suggest we should all be academics or that the solutions to life are all academic. But Christians must always grow in wisdom and in their understanding of life, God, and the relevance of their faith. Wisdom is practical knowledge for right living. The church should first of all be a community of thinkers—not thinking in distinction from action, but thinking as the basis for action. Ignorance is an ethical issue.

Historically, Christianity has led the way in promoting education and in starting colleges and universities. Now most of those previously Christian institutions have lost their attachment to the faith and are little different from secular schools.37 Pastors used to be respected as the intellectual and moral leaders in society. Now the intellectually gifted tend to go into business or science, and pastors are less and less competent leaders in any area. In the past, when the church has made significant progress—for example, at the Reformation or the great revivals—the best thinkers of the day provided the direction and force for the movement. People like Martin Luther, John Wesley, or Dietrich Bonhoeffer were thinking pioneers who would not accept the status quo, but applied their minds to understanding the implications of the gospel. This kind of inquiring, analytical devotion to the gospel and life still is needed from all of us.

Unfortunately, much of modern Christianity is guilty of a drippy sentimentality, or worse, of sensationalism. With the latter, preachers sound more like religious professional wrestlers hyping an audience. We seem more interested in trying to create emotional feeling than in providing an understanding of God and wisdom for living. As a result, many of the world say to Christians, “Your thinking is too superficial for the complexity of the world in which we live.” Christians have reacted against the extremes of this world without thinking through the implications of their choices. This needs to change. A church should be a place for analysis, reflection, and reasoned discussion about the significance of the gospel. Christians should have a reputation as people who think.

This text focuses on the gift of insight that the Spirit brings to enlighten our hearts, but he does not usually just zap people with understanding. Openness to the work of the Spirit is surely required, but so is investment in thinking and learning. Nowhere is the adage “garbage in, garbage out” more true than when dealing with our own minds. If we invest our minds in pornography, sitcoms, and movies, we will not end up with knowledge of God. This is not to suggest a narrow focus on certain “spiritual” ideas. Rather, we should focus on the broadest and most complex subjects known—God, human life, and what God has done for humanity in Christ. From that foundation every other subject needs investigation, and Christians should be at the forefront of an analysis of every subject important for human life—medical ethics and medical research, theology and business, enjoyment and suffering, to name a few. We need to have the “eyes of [our] heart” enlightened to drive out the darkness and to energize us for the task.

We must remember two important facts here. The thinking called for is based on revelation and leads to knowledge of God. The goal of reflection on Scripture is not theological academics—knowing about God—but knowing God, being in relation to him, and understanding his purposes and desire for his people. From that all other knowledge derives. While no human can know God fully, we can know God really—we can relate to God and experience his presence and work in our lives.

(4) The church is a community that understands time. Like the doxology (1:3–14), this passage focuses on understanding the past, the present, and the future. This letter will frequently contrast the hopeless past of the recipients with their present and future privilege in Christ. Here it looks to the specific past event of God’s work in Christ—his life, death, and especially resurrection as events that have changed the course of history and determine the future.

In a world that knows no time except the present, Christians must remind people about the future—something we have failed to do. We too have been caught up by the present, emphasizing only the here and now in our preaching and teaching. But if there is no future, there is no gospel. The brevity, injustice, suffering, and dying in this life cry out for the ultimate victory of God, for God to do something. Christians are eschatologically oriented because they know that God has done something marvelous and is not finished. The new age has come in the midst of the old, and one day the new age will be all that is left.

Christians must know both what they already have in Christ and what still awaits them. We too groan with creation, awaiting God’s final redemption (Rom. 8:19–24). It is part of understanding time. We live between the times of the beginning of the resurrection and its end. Christians—even in their frustration—know the patience that comes from faith. As Tertullian put it, “Faith is patience with the lamp lit.”38

Too often, however, we are comfortable enough with the present that we do not care about the future. For those attempting to focus only on pleasure in this life, Christianity has the responsibility of removing society’s insulation from the truth of the hardship of life and of death. Without being morbid and without neglecting the legitimacy of pleasure and life, we must face and embrace both suffering and death. The gospel allows us to do just that.39

For those who know this life is temporary and feel its meaninglessness, we convey the hope of God’s future, when he has a people for himself. Even those looking into death’s face can have hope. Without diminishing the awful pain of diseases like AIDS and cancer, people can know God is bigger than disease, that he does not leave them, and that he holds out his future to them. That does not change the reality of death, but it does reduce it from being ultimate and final to an enemy God has defeated in the resurrection. Dying may be horrendous, but it cannot separate us from God’s love and it is not the last word. Even in death, God stays with us and gives us hope.

(5) The church is a confident community. Surely the reason why Paul prays that his readers will know hope, God’s inheritance, and power is so they may live confidently. If the Christ to whom they are connected has been exalted over every other power, we as Christians do not need to worry about the powers. Nothing can separate us from Christ, disqualify us, or condemn us (Rom. 8:31–39). If Christ is the one who conveys the fullness of God, we do not need to worry about having missed something. We know of our own value and place in God’s purposes. We are the beneficiaries of his lordship and we live under his lordship.

The church’s confidence ought not, however, be misunderstood as triumphalism—the sin of overemphasizing “victory” so that sin, difficulty, and pain are not acknowledged and dealt with. Triumphalism in its arrogance forgets the cross and God’s identification with the pain of the world. It also forgets what is still awaited—the complete victory of God in the future. The Corinthian community was guilty of the sin of triumphalism, but Paul reminded them of the cross and of the fact that God’s power is made complete in weakness, a weakness that identifies with the self-giving love of the cross (esp. 2 Cor. 12:9; 13:4). Such confidence does not gloss over life’s problems, but it is defined by the resurrection and lordship of Jesus Christ.

(6) The church is a community of power. The power Christians have is not intrinsic power, something they have in themselves, but a power that comes from God, defined by the resurrection of Jesus and his exaltation as Lord over every other power, both now and in the future. Because no other power can rival him, and because in him the fullness of God lives, Christians do not have to look elsewhere to find what they need for life. What they need is in Christ. This power, however, is not power in the abstract; it is relational power—power that is known because of being bound to the one in whom power resides.

But looking elsewhere is precisely what many people do. A strange temptation prevails to mix faith in Christ with some other ingredient—such as works, a second blessing, power over the demonic, or astrology—to mention only a few options in the syncretistic brew. But Christ is sufficient and nothing else is needed. To attempt to add to Christ is to take away from him.

We must remember this when we seek to apply the language about spiritual powers in 1:21. The purpose of this verse is not to provide information about spiritual beings so that Christians can worry about them or seek to name them and bind them. Its purpose is that people may focus on Christ, rejoice, and live confidently. To focus on the demonic is to lose focus on Christ—precisely what happens in Frank Peretti’s novels. Such a focus is out of bounds, as are Walter Wink’s suggestions of talking to the demonic.40 Evil is real, and as far as we can tell, so are spiritual beings, but they are not mentioned in this passage because they are a threat or should be a cause of concern. Instead, they are defeated and we need not worry.

The real issue here and throughout Scripture is the question, “What determines who we are? Where do we get our identity?” Christians are defined and shaped by Jesus Christ and his life, death, and resurrection; demons and spiritual forces are not determining or shaping factors. They have an extremely limited role. This is not to be cavalier with the reality of evil, for evil is very real (as the rest of Ephesians will show), but the application of this text gives no license for focusing on spiritual beings.

Two additional points need to be addressed. (a) A focus on power does not suggest a focus on “power religion”—the contemporary movement focusing on miracles, predictive prophecy, and exorcism.41 Ephesians will provide little support for such a movement. On the other hand, neither should we accept the view that miracles were confined to the first century, for the same God who intervened in Scripture can intervene today.42

(b) If the power Christians have does not focus on miracles and the like, what good is it? If power is available, why do we not see it more? Of course, we live between the times, and Paul acknowledges in this letter that evil is still with us. The new age has come in the midst of the old (2:1–3; 4:17–19; 5:3–17; 6:10–20), but his point is not that God’s power is limited by present evil. Rather, Ephesians underscores that God’s power has invaded this present evil age in the resurrection for us (1:19–21). The theology here is precisely that announced in Romans 8:31–39: God’s power does not remove us from persecution, danger, difficulty, and death, but makes us more than conquerors in all such things. This is not a power to work magic and escape difficulty, but a power to live in an evil world. This power is for godly living. Much of the letter will address these issues and the change that God produces in his people. This is where application of the discussion of power must focus.

A glaring question still remains: If God’s power is directed at change in his people, why do we not see that change more frequently in people’s lives—including our own? The question is painful and cannot be set aside, but it is also—at least implicitly—the problem that Ephesians addresses. Ephesians holds up what God intends. May it also be the instrument through which God’s intention is made reality.

Original Meaning

Paul’s Intercession (1:17–19a)

“THE GLORIOUS FATHER” (NIV) is literally “the Father of glory.” Though this is a legitimate way of translating a Greek “of” expression (a genitive case), “glorious Father” is probably too weak. “Glory” often refers to that which makes God visible or to his activity of making himself visible. Note, for example, the classic description of the revelation of God in Exodus 33:17–34:7, in which Moses asks to see God’s glory.4 Given the context in Ephesians, the nuance seems to be “the Father who shows his glory,” that is, the Father who reveals himself.5 As in the doxology, God is viewed as a giver, who by giving makes himself, along with his character and plan, known.

The intent of Paul’s prayer is clear: that people will receive revelation to know what they have in Christ. Questions arise, however, over the intent of specific words. How, for example, should “Spirit of wisdom and revelation” be understood? Does it refer to the Holy Spirit (so NIV) who brings wisdom and revelation or to the human spirit enabled by God to see the wisdom and revelation he gives?6 Some commentators say both ideas are present, but this is probably not Paul’s intent here. The themes of wisdom and revelation were emphasized already in 1:8–9. Paul focuses here on what is accomplished for humans, but as 3:16 shows, he is thinking of the Holy Spirit as the one who performs this task (see also 1 Cor. 2:10–12).7

Ephesians 3:5 speaks of revelation given by the Spirit to the apostles and prophets, but here revelation is open to and needed by all. Just as 5:18 encourages believers to be filled with the Spirit (who is already theirs as a guarantee, 1:13)), so here Paul prays that the Spirit will continually reveal to them knowledge about God (the “him” in 1:17 refers to God, not Christ). As in the doxology, this text is theocentric and Trinitarian. Some sections of Ephesians (e.g., 2:11–22) are primarily Christocentric, but most of Ephesians, especially 1:3–2:10, is theocentric.

The connection of 1:18 to 1:17 is problematic. Whereas the NIV has “I pray also that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened,” literally the text reads, “having the eyes of the heart enlightened.” Also, this participial phrase is in the accusative case with no obvious grammatical connection to the rest of the text. The NIV suggests Paul prayed for two gifts to be given: (1) the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, and (2) enlightenment of the heart. This is possible, but one would have expected such an idea to be expressed differently. Alternatively, but no easier grammatically, this phrase parenthetically provides an explanation of “Spirit of wisdom and revelation.”

Despite the grammatical difficulties, Paul’s intent is clear—that God’s Spirit, already given to his readers, will continually give wisdom and revelation for life and understanding. The result is that the “inner eyes,” the instruments of sight and understanding for the inner being, will receive light by which to see. In other words, the apostle prays the lights will go on inside people so that they know God and understand the benefit of the gospel.

As to the content of Paul’s intercession, he wants his readers to know three realities about God: the hope of his calling, the riches of his inheritance in the saints, and the incomparable greatness of his power for us. The relation of these three to each other is unclear. Are these three different items? or one with two explanations? or one from three vantage points? Since the second item deals with the wealth of God’s inheritance and the other two with benefits for believers, it is best to see the focus on three different items. This is not to suggest that other items are unimportant, but only that these three are the focus here.

(1) That Christians should know “the hope to which [God] has called” them means that they should know the significance that God’s call has for their future. In effect Paul prays they will know the significance of God’s choosing them—one of the themes of the doxology. The focus here is not on the fact of God’s choosing, but on the outcome, the consummation of God’s plan in eternity. Paul wants believers to know that God’s call makes a radical—and positive—change in what the future holds for them. Correspondingly, their understanding of that hope will change the way they live. In 4:1, 4 Paul will expand this focus on the ethical implications of God’s call for their daily life and for unity.

Hope is an important theme in this letter, despite the fact that the word occurs only here and at 2:12 and 4:4.8 The content of hope is already implied in the word “faith.” In fact, C. F. D. Moule rightly defined “hope” as “faith standing on tiptoe.”9 In Romans 8:24 Paul even wrote that we are saved by hope. An essential characteristic of Christianity is its tilt toward the future, and Paul desires his readers to have a sense of what God’s present call means for their future.

(2) The way the NIV translates the second reality is questionable. “The riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints” (1:18b) is literally, “the wealth of the glory of his inheritance in the holy ones.” These kinds of liturgical combinations create difficulty for translators (see 2 Cor. 4:4, 6), but even if “of the glory” is to be taken as the adjective “glorious,” it should modify “riches” rather than “inheritance.” However, “the wealth of the glory” is more than either of these ideas. Paul points to the tremendous glory that is present when God inherits the people he has set apart for himself. It is the Father’s inheritance that Paul refers to, not that of believers (cf. 1:14). “In the saints” means that the inheritance is found in, or consists of, these people. The revelation of who God really is and enjoyment of him will take place when God inherits his own people. His glory will then be made manifest.

(3) The third reality believers should know is God’s “incomparably great power” for people with faith. With the mention of power Paul makes explicit a subject that has been implicit from the first and is central to the letter. In fact, statistically Ephesians focuses on words for power more than any other New Testament letter. In verse 19 alone four different words for power occur, emphasizing God’s activity in people’s lives. Here the apostle emphasizes what God’s power has accomplished in the resurrection of Christ and in his exaltation to God’s right hand. Paul desires that believers will know this great power is available for them.

Significantly, the focus on God’s power here is not on God’s inherent power or on some cosmic display of force. Rather, it is on God’s life-giving power as it is specifically available for believers. In this way the prayer looks back to the emphasis in the doxology on God’s activity of planning and working for us and our salvation.10

Bridging Contexts

BRINGING THIS PASSAGE into our modern world involves analysis of both the biblical culture and our own. In bridging by necessity we look at ourselves. Sometimes the ancient culture is not distant, and the process seems more like looking in a mirror. That will partly be the case in this passage.

Paul’s prayer in 1:15–20 is directly relevant and easily appropriated—as relevant for us now as it was when it was first written. It reveals both a conviction about the importance of prayer and a commitment to other believers. The emotional tone of 1:15–16 shows how encouraging the news was that Paul had received about his readers’ faith and love. It also shows the depth of relation he felt with people he probably had never met. They were important to him and his faith, and they were an occasion of thanksgiving that bound him closer to God. Paul’s example encouraged his readers to pray continually for all of God’s people (cf. 6:18, where this becomes an exhortation).

Paul speaks of the love his readers have “for all the saints” (1:15). Did they limit their love to the saints? Some critics complain that the New Testament authors were too internally directed. But letters like Ephesians are not full explanations of the church’s thinking. Especially in writings directed to believers, we should expect to hear of love for believers, and surely it is appropriate for them to take the approach reflected in Galatians 6:10 (“Let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers”). People concerned to share the message cannot remain focused on their own little group (see 3:8–9; 6:18–20). But we cannot know and care for everyone at the same level. Knowledge about people and respect for them leads to commitment to them and concern for them. That is what is reflected in this prayer.

Like the doxology in 1:3–14, Paul’s prayer is theocentric and Trinitarian. His understanding of God and of God’s actions is the basis of his prayer and shows through in his prayer. True prayer is always this way; it expresses a theology and therefore requires careful reflection and meditation on the kind of God to whom we are praying. We must examine the theological assumptions on which the prayer rests.

The Spirit and insight. Paul’s request that God give a Spirit of wisdom and revelation is not a prayer for a second work of the Spirit or for something special for a few Christians. Rather, he wants all his readers to know the continual revealing work of God’s Spirit and by that know God. One of the main tasks of the Spirit is to help Christians know what God has given them (1 Cor. 2:12). Philip Melanchthon said, “To know Christ is to know his benefits.”29 Paul’s prayer in effect says, “By knowing God’s benefits, you will know God.” As in the doxology, God is viewed as a giver, who by giving makes himself known. Knowing God happens neither accidentally nor by magic. The Spirit makes possible knowledge of both God and his benefits.

The Spirit has both been given to us as the seal and guarantee of salvation (1:13–14) and is being given to us as the one who helps us understand God. Christian living requires a continual openness to the Spirit and his communication to us, not about strange mysteries, but about what Christians have in the gospel and about its significance for life. The gospel tells us what God has revealed about his character and his intent for humans.

Christians continually need insight into the faith, for they have a darkness that needs enlightening (1:17–18). This darkness is the result of sin as well as a human inability to grasp the magnificence of God and the enormity of his work in Christ. Despite our twentieth-century advance of knowledge, this is as true now as it was in the first century. God addresses our limitation and darkness and through his Spirit helps us to overcome this deficiency and to keep us ever learning about God and Christ.

Hope. Our culture offers no basis for hope. Meaninglessness we know; hope we do not. Death haunts all of us. For all its advantages, our society is frayed and has problems so enormous we have given up on solving them. Crime, poverty, human stupidity, racism, terrorism, and various other “isms” threaten to undo us. The elderly read the obituaries first. The young have lost a sense of hope of making a difference or of being “successful,” and their music shows it. Middle-aged people are bored. In other countries the addition of war and famine to the list make the situation absolutely stifling. We have a sense that we cannot solve our problems—either individually or socially. This loss of hope for the present is based on a loss of hope for the future. It is as if society has AIDS and seeks only to drain out of the present all it can. Is hope possible?

Hope was as rare a commodity in the first-century world Paul addressed as it is today. Fate, determinism, and despair dominated the ancient world. People had little hope of being able to better their situation. A common epitaph read, “I was not, I was, I am not, I don’t care.” Life—for all its joy—has always been difficult and oppressive. People felt manipulated by unseen forces, and religion was a only way to find protection from bad luck, sickness, and evil powers.

Religion has always been and still is the means by which people attempt to deal with meaninglessness and evil, and rightly so. Karl Marx is noted for saying, “Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people.”30 The truth is that all humans live as oppressed creatures, oppressed by meaninglessness and evil—both our own and that of other people. In our society we attempt to insulate ourselves from despair with movies, television, and other forms of entertainment. We are taught from an early age that “they all lived happily ever after,” and we pursue this illusion. While life and God’s creation are good and are to be enjoyed, we must always remember the truth that there are no happy endings—at least in this life. We must all deal with meaninglessness, evil, sickness, and death.

God’s work in Christ addresses our meaninglessness, the problem of evil, and death. Christianity is a great religion for people who know they are desperate, and the truth is that all humans feel desperate—even when they try to deny it. Even Martin Luther’s last words on his deathbed were, “We are all beggars.”

But death is not the end. We can look forward to a happy ending of life with God. Hope is therefore a positive force. God has built a bridge from no hope to hope in his creation of life in the midst of death. Hope is a life-changing experience. Paul does not present an other-worldly, pie-in-the-sky theology, but he does view God’s work in the resurrection as a cosmic event that has changed the course of history. He therefore prayed that people might know what God’s call meant for their future and, therefore, for their present. In our society, people—including Christians—care primarily only for the present. But if God has called us to be among his future people, hope changes everything and becomes the basis from which we live in the present.

Paul’s prayer points to God’s power to bring life from death—a power available both now so that we can deal with the death in which we live and for the future when the dead are raised. In 1:21 Paul points to the present age and the one to come. The early church believed that the new age had already begun because of two events—the resurrection of Jesus and the pouring out of the Holy Spirit (see 1:13–14, 20–21; cf. Acts 2:17–36; 1 Cor. 15:20–28). The hope was grounded in Christ’s resurrection and in Pentecost. Because of their hope Christians live “between the times”—residents of both this age and of the coming age. The next chapter (2:6) will assert that Christians too have already been raised and exalted with Christ. The future has already been set in motion by God’s resurrection of Christ, and Christians live from their future, the future God has established for them. This requires a change in our worldview—a change from meaninglessness to an awareness that God’s new age has begun and hope is given to us.

Power and the powers (1:19–21). Perhaps the greatest difficulties in hearing this text come at two points: belief in the power of God, and the question of the relevance of the rulers and powers. (1) Belief in God’s power may be easy in the abstract, but can people today really believe in the resurrection or in the availability of God’s power for living? Christianity is a religion about power,31 for it focuses on the resurrection and exaltation of Christ. Modern Christianity sometimes makes the mistake of focusing on the death of Jesus or on various ethical ideas, treating the resurrection as almost an afterthought. Instead, the focus must be on the “twin event”32 of the death and resurrection, with the understanding that a third event, the pouring out of the Spirit, flows directly from the resurrection. All else derives from these three events.

The ancient world was no more eager to believe in the resurrection than we are, for it did not fit their worldview. But we must not judge this teaching from our old worldview. The death and resurrection of Christ assault our worldview and value system and replace them with a worldview and values that do justice to the God who gives life in the midst of death. Faith affirms the life-giving power of God, available both for living and dying, and looks beyond death to resurrection and future life. This conviction rests on the witness of the early church, the Scriptures, and the present work of God, though it awaits verification at the end of time.

(2) The text does not give a full explanation of power and its effect in the lives of believers. Rather, the focus is on freedom from spiritual powers. In the ancient world people had an extraordinary fear of hostile spiritual powers. Health, love, and success were all at the mercy of spiritual influences. This is the reason that magic, amulets, charms, astrological beliefs, and certain religious practices were so important, especially in Ephesus. “Less advanced” cultures today may still have similar attitudes, but much of the modern Western world has nothing matching this inordinate fear.

At the same time, surprisingly, our culture is schizophrenic in its attitude toward spiritual powers. On the one hand, our “scientific” worldview rejects any belief in spiritual beings, demons, angels, and the like. On the other hand, much of our society still is superstitious, accepts astrology, and is fascinated with thought about spiritual beings. The “psychic network” is a multimillion dollar industry. The recent influence of the new age movement has made language about “spirit guides” and angels common. Right in the middle of our “scientific” culture, major news magazines and television series focus on angels. In most cases, however, despite movies about demon possession, our culture focuses only on positive spiritual powers. Our society does not fear spiritual forces or blame them for things that go wrong; rather, it looks to them for assistance and good luck.

On the other hand, some Christians in recent years, unlike the surrounding culture, have focused more on the negative role of spiritual forces. Instead of helpers, Christians view these forces as oppressive and threatening beings, and they become concerned with “binding Satan,” identifying “territorial spirits,” and wrestling with evil. This current focus does not derive from the Bible, or it is at least unbalanced. Far more attention is being given to demons than the New Testament evidence warrants.

How should we deal with the New Testament evidence of spiritual powers? Is our atmosphere filled with good and evil forces that impact our lives? Or should we “demythologize” principalities and powers and understand that we are not dealing with spiritual beings, but with structures and systems in society and in life—governments, political structures, the character of companies or industries, historical constraints, racism, and the like?

As might be expected, these subjects are receiving increased scholarly attention. The largest recent study is the three-volume work by Walter Wink.33 He has tried to deal with principalities and powers without demythologizing them, but in the end he does. He brackets the “ontological” question of whether such spiritual beings exist so that he can deal with the fact of evil and spiritual realities. One can appreciate his attempt. All of us—regardless of our beliefs—have to deal with the fact of evil. But, we cannot investigate spiritual powers by any empirical method, and therefore we can never prove or disprove their existence. No appropriate lab exists in which to do the research. However, we cannot bracket the ontological question, for if we do so, we can as easily bracket the ontological question with regard to the existence of God.

The problem is that we think we must explain all things. We cannot. Being human means being incomplete and not knowing all the answers. This is one area where answers are difficult to find, and the danger is always of saying more than we are entitled to say. Especially with this subject, we should “not go beyond what is written” (1 Cor. 4:6), for when we do, we are almost certainly wrong. Frank Peretti’s novels focusing on demons and angels are a violation of Christian thinking, for they engage in speculation that does not do justice to the balance and reserve of the Bible.34 Christian thinking must always ask, “Where is it written?”

The problems increase when our experience of evil goes beyond what the text treats. Not everything is in the Bible, but we must be careful of canonizing experiences we may have interpreted through distorted lenses and under the influence of ideas derived from other people, be they Dante or Peretti. Anchoring our thinking to the biblical concerns will not be as much fun, but it will give us what we need for life.

We will be facing principalities and powers elsewhere in this letter, but here the issue is clear. Without doubt, Paul thought about spiritual beings, but their existence is of little consequence for him. He hardly cared about the principalities and powers in and of themselves. His main goal was to show their subjection and defeat, as if to say, “Whatever is there has been defeated by and is under Christ’s control.” We need to put the emphasis precisely where he did.

Christ and his church (1:22–23). These two verses may seem largely irrelevant, especially with the difficulty in knowing how to take verse 23. That Christ is called the head over all things is a metaphorical way of emphasizing one of the most important confessions of the early church—“Jesus is Lord.” If our interpretation of verse 23b is correct, Christ is the one who conveys God to us. This is a crucial theological conviction, for if Jesus is Lord and embodies the fullness of God, then he defines reality with clarity so that people know what life is really about.

Furthermore, these verses emphasize that Jesus is Lord over all things for the benefit of the church. The church is so intimately bound to Christ that it is his body and participates in his life and reign. The intimacy of this relationship goes well beyond what most Christians think they are doing when they “make a decision” to believe in Christ. If this theology is taken seriously, the church—and its individual members—occupies a place of privilege and benefit that is astounding. We are intimately involved with the One who embodies and communicates the very fullness of God.

Summary. In sum, Paul’s prayer for understanding in 1:15–23 expresses a theology that embodies the following:

An ecclesiology of interrelatedness, shown both at the beginning with the focus on love and prayer and at the end with the mention of the body drawing from the fullness that is in Christ

A theology of the Spirit as the revealer, continually at work in the lives of believers to help them understand what they have from God and thereby to know God

A theology of God, who wants his people and works to bring them to himself

A Christology of exaltation, emphasizing the resurrection and the exaltation of Christ to the highest honor with God; he is Lord, and all that exists is made subservient to him.

Contemporary Significance

THIS TEXT DOES not give specific directions for life, but it mirrors life and lays a foundation for life. The focus on the cosmic nature of God’s work in Christ will not allow an individualistic appropriation of the text. The text implies the kind of community the church should be.

(1) The church is a worldwide caring community. Markus Barth is correct in saying that we cannot love everybody.35 Our minds are too small to have a frame of reference so inclusive. But our love cannot be confined to the limits of our own specific community. We need a sense of a larger and broader movement of God and of our own involvement with other Christians. Note how Paul cared for and invested in Christians he did not even know. He was not just attempting to build an empire for himself, but he took seriously his belief in the body of Christ. Those other people were intimately involved with him because of their mutual faith. Such involvement with other Christians keeps us from being myopic and parochial, and it keeps both churches and pastors from being “lone rangers.” Loneliness, a sense of being too small for the task, and pride all have a difficult time surviving when a person has a sense of being involved with other Christians in the body of Christ.

Paul felt a deep attachment to Christians everywhere, and so should we. Although we should be involved with non-Christians, the focus in this text is on the depth of sharing with other believers that comes from belonging to Christ. Being part of Christ means being part of the others in Christ and working with them in behalf of God’s kingdom.

(2) Because Christians care for other people, the church is a praying community. To pray is to remember “who owns the house.”36 This is God’s world and the people in it are his. The church is not an independent, self-determining group; it is a community that acknowledges it is owned and therefore under direction. Our regular practice should include praying for other Christians—even ones we do not know. Through such prayers we acknowledge we all belong to the same God and that we participate together in a common God-given mission. Knowledge of the faith and love of others should lead to thanksgiving, for we benefit when they succeed. We are one with those in Christ and share life in Christ with them.

(3) The church is a thinking community. The focus on the enlightenment of the mind in verse 18 introduces an important, but too frequently ignored, part of Paul’s thinking. Too many Christians are passive in their thinking and learning or have an anti-intellectual bias. Part of this is understandable, for “intellectualism” has often been destructive and arrogant, but Christians have recoiled with an anti-intellectualism that leads to ignorance. We do not ward off intellectual attack by being less thoughtful!

Christians are not the only ones guilty of anti-intellectualism. We live in a society that has largely stopped thinking. The complexity of life and the overload of information available today has driven us to trite television shows and spectator sports as our main areas of mental stimulation. This text does not suggest we should all be academics or that the solutions to life are all academic. But Christians must always grow in wisdom and in their understanding of life, God, and the relevance of their faith. Wisdom is practical knowledge for right living. The church should first of all be a community of thinkers—not thinking in distinction from action, but thinking as the basis for action. Ignorance is an ethical issue.

Historically, Christianity has led the way in promoting education and in starting colleges and universities. Now most of those previously Christian institutions have lost their attachment to the faith and are little different from secular schools.37 Pastors used to be respected as the intellectual and moral leaders in society. Now the intellectually gifted tend to go into business or science, and pastors are less and less competent leaders in any area. In the past, when the church has made significant progress—for example, at the Reformation or the great revivals—the best thinkers of the day provided the direction and force for the movement. People like Martin Luther, John Wesley, or Dietrich Bonhoeffer were thinking pioneers who would not accept the status quo, but applied their minds to understanding the implications of the gospel. This kind of inquiring, analytical devotion to the gospel and life still is needed from all of us.

Unfortunately, much of modern Christianity is guilty of a drippy sentimentality, or worse, of sensationalism. With the latter, preachers sound more like religious professional wrestlers hyping an audience. We seem more interested in trying to create emotional feeling than in providing an understanding of God and wisdom for living. As a result, many of the world say to Christians, “Your thinking is too superficial for the complexity of the world in which we live.” Christians have reacted against the extremes of this world without thinking through the implications of their choices. This needs to change. A church should be a place for analysis, reflection, and reasoned discussion about the significance of the gospel. Christians should have a reputation as people who think.

This text focuses on the gift of insight that the Spirit brings to enlighten our hearts, but he does not usually just zap people with understanding. Openness to the work of the Spirit is surely required, but so is investment in thinking and learning. Nowhere is the adage “garbage in, garbage out” more true than when dealing with our own minds. If we invest our minds in pornography, sitcoms, and movies, we will not end up with knowledge of God. This is not to suggest a narrow focus on certain “spiritual” ideas. Rather, we should focus on the broadest and most complex subjects known—God, human life, and what God has done for humanity in Christ. From that foundation every other subject needs investigation, and Christians should be at the forefront of an analysis of every subject important for human life—medical ethics and medical research, theology and business, enjoyment and suffering, to name a few. We need to have the “eyes of [our] heart” enlightened to drive out the darkness and to energize us for the task.

We must remember two important facts here. The thinking called for is based on revelation and leads to knowledge of God. The goal of reflection on Scripture is not theological academics—knowing about God—but knowing God, being in relation to him, and understanding his purposes and desire for his people. From that all other knowledge derives. While no human can know God fully, we can know God really—we can relate to God and experience his presence and work in our lives.

(4) The church is a community that understands time. Like the doxology (1:3–14), this passage focuses on understanding the past, the present, and the future. This letter will frequently contrast the hopeless past of the recipients with their present and future privilege in Christ. Here it looks to the specific past event of God’s work in Christ—his life, death, and especially resurrection as events that have changed the course of history and determine the future.

In a world that knows no time except the present, Christians must remind people about the future—something we have failed to do. We too have been caught up by the present, emphasizing only the here and now in our preaching and teaching. But if there is no future, there is no gospel. The brevity, injustice, suffering, and dying in this life cry out for the ultimate victory of God, for God to do something. Christians are eschatologically oriented because they know that God has done something marvelous and is not finished. The new age has come in the midst of the old, and one day the new age will be all that is left.

Christians must know both what they already have in Christ and what still awaits them. We too groan with creation, awaiting God’s final redemption (Rom. 8:19–24). It is part of understanding time. We live between the times of the beginning of the resurrection and its end. Christians—even in their frustration—know the patience that comes from faith. As Tertullian put it, “Faith is patience with the lamp lit.”38

Too often, however, we are comfortable enough with the present that we do not care about the future. For those attempting to focus only on pleasure in this life, Christianity has the responsibility of removing society’s insulation from the truth of the hardship of life and of death. Without being morbid and without neglecting the legitimacy of pleasure and life, we must face and embrace both suffering and death. The gospel allows us to do just that.39

For those who know this life is temporary and feel its meaninglessness, we convey the hope of God’s future, when he has a people for himself. Even those looking into death’s face can have hope. Without diminishing the awful pain of diseases like AIDS and cancer, people can know God is bigger than disease, that he does not leave them, and that he holds out his future to them. That does not change the reality of death, but it does reduce it from being ultimate and final to an enemy God has defeated in the resurrection. Dying may be horrendous, but it cannot separate us from God’s love and it is not the last word. Even in death, God stays with us and gives us hope.

(5) The church is a confident community. Surely the reason why Paul prays that his readers will know hope, God’s inheritance, and power is so they may live confidently. If the Christ to whom they are connected has been exalted over every other power, we as Christians do not need to worry about the powers. Nothing can separate us from Christ, disqualify us, or condemn us (Rom. 8:31–39). If Christ is the one who conveys the fullness of God, we do not need to worry about having missed something. We know of our own value and place in God’s purposes. We are the beneficiaries of his lordship and we live under his lordship.

The church’s confidence ought not, however, be misunderstood as triumphalism—the sin of overemphasizing “victory” so that sin, difficulty, and pain are not acknowledged and dealt with. Triumphalism in its arrogance forgets the cross and God’s identification with the pain of the world. It also forgets what is still awaited—the complete victory of God in the future. The Corinthian community was guilty of the sin of triumphalism, but Paul reminded them of the cross and of the fact that God’s power is made complete in weakness, a weakness that identifies with the self-giving love of the cross (esp. 2 Cor. 12:9; 13:4). Such confidence does not gloss over life’s problems, but it is defined by the resurrection and lordship of Jesus Christ.

(6) The church is a community of power. The power Christians have is not intrinsic power, something they have in themselves, but a power that comes from God, defined by the resurrection of Jesus and his exaltation as Lord over every other power, both now and in the future. Because no other power can rival him, and because in him the fullness of God lives, Christians do not have to look elsewhere to find what they need for life. What they need is in Christ. This power, however, is not power in the abstract; it is relational power—power that is known because of being bound to the one in whom power resides.

But looking elsewhere is precisely what many people do. A strange temptation prevails to mix faith in Christ with some other ingredient—such as works, a second blessing, power over the demonic, or astrology—to mention only a few options in the syncretistic brew. But Christ is sufficient and nothing else is needed. To attempt to add to Christ is to take away from him.

We must remember this when we seek to apply the language about spiritual powers in 1:21. The purpose of this verse is not to provide information about spiritual beings so that Christians can worry about them or seek to name them and bind them. Its purpose is that people may focus on Christ, rejoice, and live confidently. To focus on the demonic is to lose focus on Christ—precisely what happens in Frank Peretti’s novels. Such a focus is out of bounds, as are Walter Wink’s suggestions of talking to the demonic.40 Evil is real, and as far as we can tell, so are spiritual beings, but they are not mentioned in this passage because they are a threat or should be a cause of concern. Instead, they are defeated and we need not worry.

The real issue here and throughout Scripture is the question, “What determines who we are? Where do we get our identity?” Christians are defined and shaped by Jesus Christ and his life, death, and resurrection; demons and spiritual forces are not determining or shaping factors. They have an extremely limited role. This is not to be cavalier with the reality of evil, for evil is very real (as the rest of Ephesians will show), but the application of this text gives no license for focusing on spiritual beings.

Two additional points need to be addressed. (a) A focus on power does not suggest a focus on “power religion”—the contemporary movement focusing on miracles, predictive prophecy, and exorcism.41 Ephesians will provide little support for such a movement. On the other hand, neither should we accept the view that miracles were confined to the first century, for the same God who intervened in Scripture can intervene today.42

(b) If the power Christians have does not focus on miracles and the like, what good is it? If power is available, why do we not see it more? Of course, we live between the times, and Paul acknowledges in this letter that evil is still with us. The new age has come in the midst of the old (2:1–3; 4:17–19; 5:3–17; 6:10–20), but his point is not that God’s power is limited by present evil. Rather, Ephesians underscores that God’s power has invaded this present evil age in the resurrection for us (1:19–21). The theology here is precisely that announced in Romans 8:31–39: God’s power does not remove us from persecution, danger, difficulty, and death, but makes us more than conquerors in all such things. This is not a power to work magic and escape difficulty, but a power to live in an evil world. This power is for godly living. Much of the letter will address these issues and the change that God produces in his people. This is where application of the discussion of power must focus.

A glaring question still remains: If God’s power is directed at change in his people, why do we not see that change more frequently in people’s lives—including our own? The question is painful and cannot be set aside, but it is also—at least implicitly—the problem that Ephesians addresses. Ephesians holds up what God intends. May it also be the instrument through which God’s intention is made reality.

Original Meaning

Paul’s Intercession (1:17–19a)

“THE GLORIOUS FATHER” (NIV) is literally “the Father of glory.” Though this is a legitimate way of translating a Greek “of” expression (a genitive case), “glorious Father” is probably too weak. “Glory” often refers to that which makes God visible or to his activity of making himself visible. Note, for example, the classic description of the revelation of God in Exodus 33:17–34:7, in which Moses asks to see God’s glory.4 Given the context in Ephesians, the nuance seems to be “the Father who shows his glory,” that is, the Father who reveals himself.5 As in the doxology, God is viewed as a giver, who by giving makes himself, along with his character and plan, known.

The intent of Paul’s prayer is clear: that people will receive revelation to know what they have in Christ. Questions arise, however, over the intent of specific words. How, for example, should “Spirit of wisdom and revelation” be understood? Does it refer to the Holy Spirit (so NIV) who brings wisdom and revelation or to the human spirit enabled by God to see the wisdom and revelation he gives?6 Some commentators say both ideas are present, but this is probably not Paul’s intent here. The themes of wisdom and revelation were emphasized already in 1:8–9. Paul focuses here on what is accomplished for humans, but as 3:16 shows, he is thinking of the Holy Spirit as the one who performs this task (see also 1 Cor. 2:10–12).7

Ephesians 3:5 speaks of revelation given by the Spirit to the apostles and prophets, but here revelation is open to and needed by all. Just as 5:18 encourages believers to be filled with the Spirit (who is already theirs as a guarantee, 1:13)), so here Paul prays that the Spirit will continually reveal to them knowledge about God (the “him” in 1:17 refers to God, not Christ). As in the doxology, this text is theocentric and Trinitarian. Some sections of Ephesians (e.g., 2:11–22) are primarily Christocentric, but most of Ephesians, especially 1:3–2:10, is theocentric.

The connection of 1:18 to 1:17 is problematic. Whereas the NIV has “I pray also that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened,” literally the text reads, “having the eyes of the heart enlightened.” Also, this participial phrase is in the accusative case with no obvious grammatical connection to the rest of the text. The NIV suggests Paul prayed for two gifts to be given: (1) the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, and (2) enlightenment of the heart. This is possible, but one would have expected such an idea to be expressed differently. Alternatively, but no easier grammatically, this phrase parenthetically provides an explanation of “Spirit of wisdom and revelation.”

Despite the grammatical difficulties, Paul’s intent is clear—that God’s Spirit, already given to his readers, will continually give wisdom and revelation for life and understanding. The result is that the “inner eyes,” the instruments of sight and understanding for the inner being, will receive light by which to see. In other words, the apostle prays the lights will go on inside people so that they know God and understand the benefit of the gospel.

As to the content of Paul’s intercession, he wants his readers to know three realities about God: the hope of his calling, the riches of his inheritance in the saints, and the incomparable greatness of his power for us. The relation of these three to each other is unclear. Are these three different items? or one with two explanations? or one from three vantage points? Since the second item deals with the wealth of God’s inheritance and the other two with benefits for believers, it is best to see the focus on three different items. This is not to suggest that other items are unimportant, but only that these three are the focus here.

(1) That Christians should know “the hope to which [God] has called” them means that they should know the significance that God’s call has for their future. In effect Paul prays they will know the significance of God’s choosing them—one of the themes of the doxology. The focus here is not on the fact of God’s choosing, but on the outcome, the consummation of God’s plan in eternity. Paul wants believers to know that God’s call makes a radical—and positive—change in what the future holds for them. Correspondingly, their understanding of that hope will change the way they live. In 4:1, 4 Paul will expand this focus on the ethical implications of God’s call for their daily life and for unity.

Hope is an important theme in this letter, despite the fact that the word occurs only here and at 2:12 and 4:4.8 The content of hope is already implied in the word “faith.” In fact, C. F. D. Moule rightly defined “hope” as “faith standing on tiptoe.”9 In Romans 8:24 Paul even wrote that we are saved by hope. An essential characteristic of Christianity is its tilt toward the future, and Paul desires his readers to have a sense of what God’s present call means for their future.

(2) The way the NIV translates the second reality is questionable. “The riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints” (1:18b) is literally, “the wealth of the glory of his inheritance in the holy ones.” These kinds of liturgical combinations create difficulty for translators (see 2 Cor. 4:4, 6), but even if “of the glory” is to be taken as the adjective “glorious,” it should modify “riches” rather than “inheritance.” However, “the wealth of the glory” is more than either of these ideas. Paul points to the tremendous glory that is present when God inherits the people he has set apart for himself. It is the Father’s inheritance that Paul refers to, not that of believers (cf. 1:14). “In the saints” means that the inheritance is found in, or consists of, these people. The revelation of who God really is and enjoyment of him will take place when God inherits his own people. His glory will then be made manifest.

(3) The third reality believers should know is God’s “incomparably great power” for people with faith. With the mention of power Paul makes explicit a subject that has been implicit from the first and is central to the letter. In fact, statistically Ephesians focuses on words for power more than any other New Testament letter. In verse 19 alone four different words for power occur, emphasizing God’s activity in people’s lives. Here the apostle emphasizes what God’s power has accomplished in the resurrection of Christ and in his exaltation to God’s right hand. Paul desires that believers will know this great power is available for them.

Significantly, the focus on God’s power here is not on God’s inherent power or on some cosmic display of force. Rather, it is on God’s life-giving power as it is specifically available for believers. In this way the prayer looks back to the emphasis in the doxology on God’s activity of planning and working for us and our salvation.10

Bridging Contexts

BRINGING THIS PASSAGE into our modern world involves analysis of both the biblical culture and our own. In bridging by necessity we look at ourselves. Sometimes the ancient culture is not distant, and the process seems more like looking in a mirror. That will partly be the case in this passage.

Paul’s prayer in 1:15–20 is directly relevant and easily appropriated—as relevant for us now as it was when it was first written. It reveals both a conviction about the importance of prayer and a commitment to other believers. The emotional tone of 1:15–16 shows how encouraging the news was that Paul had received about his readers’ faith and love. It also shows the depth of relation he felt with people he probably had never met. They were important to him and his faith, and they were an occasion of thanksgiving that bound him closer to God. Paul’s example encouraged his readers to pray continually for all of God’s people (cf. 6:18, where this becomes an exhortation).

Paul speaks of the love his readers have “for all the saints” (1:15). Did they limit their love to the saints? Some critics complain that the New Testament authors were too internally directed. But letters like Ephesians are not full explanations of the church’s thinking. Especially in writings directed to believers, we should expect to hear of love for believers, and surely it is appropriate for them to take the approach reflected in Galatians 6:10 (“Let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers”). People concerned to share the message cannot remain focused on their own little group (see 3:8–9; 6:18–20). But we cannot know and care for everyone at the same level. Knowledge about people and respect for them leads to commitment to them and concern for them. That is what is reflected in this prayer.

Like the doxology in 1:3–14, Paul’s prayer is theocentric and Trinitarian. His understanding of God and of God’s actions is the basis of his prayer and shows through in his prayer. True prayer is always this way; it expresses a theology and therefore requires careful reflection and meditation on the kind of God to whom we are praying. We must examine the theological assumptions on which the prayer rests.

The Spirit and insight. Paul’s request that God give a Spirit of wisdom and revelation is not a prayer for a second work of the Spirit or for something special for a few Christians. Rather, he wants all his readers to know the continual revealing work of God’s Spirit and by that know God. One of the main tasks of the Spirit is to help Christians know what God has given them (1 Cor. 2:12). Philip Melanchthon said, “To know Christ is to know his benefits.”29 Paul’s prayer in effect says, “By knowing God’s benefits, you will know God.” As in the doxology, God is viewed as a giver, who by giving makes himself known. Knowing God happens neither accidentally nor by magic. The Spirit makes possible knowledge of both God and his benefits.

The Spirit has both been given to us as the seal and guarantee of salvation (1:13–14) and is being given to us as the one who helps us understand God. Christian living requires a continual openness to the Spirit and his communication to us, not about strange mysteries, but about what Christians have in the gospel and about its significance for life. The gospel tells us what God has revealed about his character and his intent for humans.

Christians continually need insight into the faith, for they have a darkness that needs enlightening (1:17–18). This darkness is the result of sin as well as a human inability to grasp the magnificence of God and the enormity of his work in Christ. Despite our twentieth-century advance of knowledge, this is as true now as it was in the first century. God addresses our limitation and darkness and through his Spirit helps us to overcome this deficiency and to keep us ever learning about God and Christ.

Hope. Our culture offers no basis for hope. Meaninglessness we know; hope we do not. Death haunts all of us. For all its advantages, our society is frayed and has problems so enormous we have given up on solving them. Crime, poverty, human stupidity, racism, terrorism, and various other “isms” threaten to undo us. The elderly read the obituaries first. The young have lost a sense of hope of making a difference or of being “successful,” and their music shows it. Middle-aged people are bored. In other countries the addition of war and famine to the list make the situation absolutely stifling. We have a sense that we cannot solve our problems—either individually or socially. This loss of hope for the present is based on a loss of hope for the future. It is as if society has AIDS and seeks only to drain out of the present all it can. Is hope possible?

Hope was as rare a commodity in the first-century world Paul addressed as it is today. Fate, determinism, and despair dominated the ancient world. People had little hope of being able to better their situation. A common epitaph read, “I was not, I was, I am not, I don’t care.” Life—for all its joy—has always been difficult and oppressive. People felt manipulated by unseen forces, and religion was a only way to find protection from bad luck, sickness, and evil powers.

Religion has always been and still is the means by which people attempt to deal with meaninglessness and evil, and rightly so. Karl Marx is noted for saying, “Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people.”30 The truth is that all humans live as oppressed creatures, oppressed by meaninglessness and evil—both our own and that of other people. In our society we attempt to insulate ourselves from despair with movies, television, and other forms of entertainment. We are taught from an early age that “they all lived happily ever after,” and we pursue this illusion. While life and God’s creation are good and are to be enjoyed, we must always remember the truth that there are no happy endings—at least in this life. We must all deal with meaninglessness, evil, sickness, and death.

God’s work in Christ addresses our meaninglessness, the problem of evil, and death. Christianity is a great religion for people who know they are desperate, and the truth is that all humans feel desperate—even when they try to deny it. Even Martin Luther’s last words on his deathbed were, “We are all beggars.”

But death is not the end. We can look forward to a happy ending of life with God. Hope is therefore a positive force. God has built a bridge from no hope to hope in his creation of life in the midst of death. Hope is a life-changing experience. Paul does not present an other-worldly, pie-in-the-sky theology, but he does view God’s work in the resurrection as a cosmic event that has changed the course of history. He therefore prayed that people might know what God’s call meant for their future and, therefore, for their present. In our society, people—including Christians—care primarily only for the present. But if God has called us to be among his future people, hope changes everything and becomes the basis from which we live in the present.

Paul’s prayer points to God’s power to bring life from death—a power available both now so that we can deal with the death in which we live and for the future when the dead are raised. In 1:21 Paul points to the present age and the one to come. The early church believed that the new age had already begun because of two events—the resurrection of Jesus and the pouring out of the Holy Spirit (see 1:13–14, 20–21; cf. Acts 2:17–36; 1 Cor. 15:20–28). The hope was grounded in Christ’s resurrection and in Pentecost. Because of their hope Christians live “between the times”—residents of both this age and of the coming age. The next chapter (2:6) will assert that Christians too have already been raised and exalted with Christ. The future has already been set in motion by God’s resurrection of Christ, and Christians live from their future, the future God has established for them. This requires a change in our worldview—a change from meaninglessness to an awareness that God’s new age has begun and hope is given to us.

Power and the powers (1:19–21). Perhaps the greatest difficulties in hearing this text come at two points: belief in the power of God, and the question of the relevance of the rulers and powers. (1) Belief in God’s power may be easy in the abstract, but can people today really believe in the resurrection or in the availability of God’s power for living? Christianity is a religion about power,31 for it focuses on the resurrection and exaltation of Christ. Modern Christianity sometimes makes the mistake of focusing on the death of Jesus or on various ethical ideas, treating the resurrection as almost an afterthought. Instead, the focus must be on the “twin event”32 of the death and resurrection, with the understanding that a third event, the pouring out of the Spirit, flows directly from the resurrection. All else derives from these three events.

The ancient world was no more eager to believe in the resurrection than we are, for it did not fit their worldview. But we must not judge this teaching from our old worldview. The death and resurrection of Christ assault our worldview and value system and replace them with a worldview and values that do justice to the God who gives life in the midst of death. Faith affirms the life-giving power of God, available both for living and dying, and looks beyond death to resurrection and future life. This conviction rests on the witness of the early church, the Scriptures, and the present work of God, though it awaits verification at the end of time.

(2) The text does not give a full explanation of power and its effect in the lives of believers. Rather, the focus is on freedom from spiritual powers. In the ancient world people had an extraordinary fear of hostile spiritual powers. Health, love, and success were all at the mercy of spiritual influences. This is the reason that magic, amulets, charms, astrological beliefs, and certain religious practices were so important, especially in Ephesus. “Less advanced” cultures today may still have similar attitudes, but much of the modern Western world has nothing matching this inordinate fear.

At the same time, surprisingly, our culture is schizophrenic in its attitude toward spiritual powers. On the one hand, our “scientific” worldview rejects any belief in spiritual beings, demons, angels, and the like. On the other hand, much of our society still is superstitious, accepts astrology, and is fascinated with thought about spiritual beings. The “psychic network” is a multimillion dollar industry. The recent influence of the new age movement has made language about “spirit guides” and angels common. Right in the middle of our “scientific” culture, major news magazines and television series focus on angels. In most cases, however, despite movies about demon possession, our culture focuses only on positive spiritual powers. Our society does not fear spiritual forces or blame them for things that go wrong; rather, it looks to them for assistance and good luck.

On the other hand, some Christians in recent years, unlike the surrounding culture, have focused more on the negative role of spiritual forces. Instead of helpers, Christians view these forces as oppressive and threatening beings, and they become concerned with “binding Satan,” identifying “territorial spirits,” and wrestling with evil. This current focus does not derive from the Bible, or it is at least unbalanced. Far more attention is being given to demons than the New Testament evidence warrants.

How should we deal with the New Testament evidence of spiritual powers? Is our atmosphere filled with good and evil forces that impact our lives? Or should we “demythologize” principalities and powers and understand that we are not dealing with spiritual beings, but with structures and systems in society and in life—governments, political structures, the character of companies or industries, historical constraints, racism, and the like?

As might be expected, these subjects are receiving increased scholarly attention. The largest recent study is the three-volume work by Walter Wink.33 He has tried to deal with principalities and powers without demythologizing them, but in the end he does. He brackets the “ontological” question of whether such spiritual beings exist so that he can deal with the fact of evil and spiritual realities. One can appreciate his attempt. All of us—regardless of our beliefs—have to deal with the fact of evil. But, we cannot investigate spiritual powers by any empirical method, and therefore we can never prove or disprove their existence. No appropriate lab exists in which to do the research. However, we cannot bracket the ontological question, for if we do so, we can as easily bracket the ontological question with regard to the existence of God.

The problem is that we think we must explain all things. We cannot. Being human means being incomplete and not knowing all the answers. This is one area where answers are difficult to find, and the danger is always of saying more than we are entitled to say. Especially with this subject, we should “not go beyond what is written” (1 Cor. 4:6), for when we do, we are almost certainly wrong. Frank Peretti’s novels focusing on demons and angels are a violation of Christian thinking, for they engage in speculation that does not do justice to the balance and reserve of the Bible.34 Christian thinking must always ask, “Where is it written?”

The problems increase when our experience of evil goes beyond what the text treats. Not everything is in the Bible, but we must be careful of canonizing experiences we may have interpreted through distorted lenses and under the influence of ideas derived from other people, be they Dante or Peretti. Anchoring our thinking to the biblical concerns will not be as much fun, but it will give us what we need for life.

We will be facing principalities and powers elsewhere in this letter, but here the issue is clear. Without doubt, Paul thought about spiritual beings, but their existence is of little consequence for him. He hardly cared about the principalities and powers in and of themselves. His main goal was to show their subjection and defeat, as if to say, “Whatever is there has been defeated by and is under Christ’s control.” We need to put the emphasis precisely where he did.

Christ and his church (1:22–23). These two verses may seem largely irrelevant, especially with the difficulty in knowing how to take verse 23. That Christ is called the head over all things is a metaphorical way of emphasizing one of the most important confessions of the early church—“Jesus is Lord.” If our interpretation of verse 23b is correct, Christ is the one who conveys God to us. This is a crucial theological conviction, for if Jesus is Lord and embodies the fullness of God, then he defines reality with clarity so that people know what life is really about.

Furthermore, these verses emphasize that Jesus is Lord over all things for the benefit of the church. The church is so intimately bound to Christ that it is his body and participates in his life and reign. The intimacy of this relationship goes well beyond what most Christians think they are doing when they “make a decision” to believe in Christ. If this theology is taken seriously, the church—and its individual members—occupies a place of privilege and benefit that is astounding. We are intimately involved with the One who embodies and communicates the very fullness of God.

Summary. In sum, Paul’s prayer for understanding in 1:15–23 expresses a theology that embodies the following:

An ecclesiology of interrelatedness, shown both at the beginning with the focus on love and prayer and at the end with the mention of the body drawing from the fullness that is in Christ

A theology of the Spirit as the revealer, continually at work in the lives of believers to help them understand what they have from God and thereby to know God

A theology of God, who wants his people and works to bring them to himself

A Christology of exaltation, emphasizing the resurrection and the exaltation of Christ to the highest honor with God; he is Lord, and all that exists is made subservient to him.

Contemporary Significance

THIS TEXT DOES not give specific directions for life, but it mirrors life and lays a foundation for life. The focus on the cosmic nature of God’s work in Christ will not allow an individualistic appropriation of the text. The text implies the kind of community the church should be.

(1) The church is a worldwide caring community. Markus Barth is correct in saying that we cannot love everybody.35 Our minds are too small to have a frame of reference so inclusive. But our love cannot be confined to the limits of our own specific community. We need a sense of a larger and broader movement of God and of our own involvement with other Christians. Note how Paul cared for and invested in Christians he did not even know. He was not just attempting to build an empire for himself, but he took seriously his belief in the body of Christ. Those other people were intimately involved with him because of their mutual faith. Such involvement with other Christians keeps us from being myopic and parochial, and it keeps both churches and pastors from being “lone rangers.” Loneliness, a sense of being too small for the task, and pride all have a difficult time surviving when a person has a sense of being involved with other Christians in the body of Christ.

Paul felt a deep attachment to Christians everywhere, and so should we. Although we should be involved with non-Christians, the focus in this text is on the depth of sharing with other believers that comes from belonging to Christ. Being part of Christ means being part of the others in Christ and working with them in behalf of God’s kingdom.

(2) Because Christians care for other people, the church is a praying community. To pray is to remember “who owns the house.”36 This is God’s world and the people in it are his. The church is not an independent, self-determining group; it is a community that acknowledges it is owned and therefore under direction. Our regular practice should include praying for other Christians—even ones we do not know. Through such prayers we acknowledge we all belong to the same God and that we participate together in a common God-given mission. Knowledge of the faith and love of others should lead to thanksgiving, for we benefit when they succeed. We are one with those in Christ and share life in Christ with them.

(3) The church is a thinking community. The focus on the enlightenment of the mind in verse 18 introduces an important, but too frequently ignored, part of Paul’s thinking. Too many Christians are passive in their thinking and learning or have an anti-intellectual bias. Part of this is understandable, for “intellectualism” has often been destructive and arrogant, but Christians have recoiled with an anti-intellectualism that leads to ignorance. We do not ward off intellectual attack by being less thoughtful!

Christians are not the only ones guilty of anti-intellectualism. We live in a society that has largely stopped thinking. The complexity of life and the overload of information available today has driven us to trite television shows and spectator sports as our main areas of mental stimulation. This text does not suggest we should all be academics or that the solutions to life are all academic. But Christians must always grow in wisdom and in their understanding of life, God, and the relevance of their faith. Wisdom is practical knowledge for right living. The church should first of all be a community of thinkers—not thinking in distinction from action, but thinking as the basis for action. Ignorance is an ethical issue.

Historically, Christianity has led the way in promoting education and in starting colleges and universities. Now most of those previously Christian institutions have lost their attachment to the faith and are little different from secular schools.37 Pastors used to be respected as the intellectual and moral leaders in society. Now the intellectually gifted tend to go into business or science, and pastors are less and less competent leaders in any area. In the past, when the church has made significant progress—for example, at the Reformation or the great revivals—the best thinkers of the day provided the direction and force for the movement. People like Martin Luther, John Wesley, or Dietrich Bonhoeffer were thinking pioneers who would not accept the status quo, but applied their minds to understanding the implications of the gospel. This kind of inquiring, analytical devotion to the gospel and life still is needed from all of us.

Unfortunately, much of modern Christianity is guilty of a drippy sentimentality, or worse, of sensationalism. With the latter, preachers sound more like religious professional wrestlers hyping an audience. We seem more interested in trying to create emotional feeling than in providing an understanding of God and wisdom for living. As a result, many of the world say to Christians, “Your thinking is too superficial for the complexity of the world in which we live.” Christians have reacted against the extremes of this world without thinking through the implications of their choices. This needs to change. A church should be a place for analysis, reflection, and reasoned discussion about the significance of the gospel. Christians should have a reputation as people who think.

This text focuses on the gift of insight that the Spirit brings to enlighten our hearts, but he does not usually just zap people with understanding. Openness to the work of the Spirit is surely required, but so is investment in thinking and learning. Nowhere is the adage “garbage in, garbage out” more true than when dealing with our own minds. If we invest our minds in pornography, sitcoms, and movies, we will not end up with knowledge of God. This is not to suggest a narrow focus on certain “spiritual” ideas. Rather, we should focus on the broadest and most complex subjects known—God, human life, and what God has done for humanity in Christ. From that foundation every other subject needs investigation, and Christians should be at the forefront of an analysis of every subject important for human life—medical ethics and medical research, theology and business, enjoyment and suffering, to name a few. We need to have the “eyes of [our] heart” enlightened to drive out the darkness and to energize us for the task.

We must remember two important facts here. The thinking called for is based on revelation and leads to knowledge of God. The goal of reflection on Scripture is not theological academics—knowing about God—but knowing God, being in relation to him, and understanding his purposes and desire for his people. From that all other knowledge derives. While no human can know God fully, we can know God really—we can relate to God and experience his presence and work in our lives.

(4) The church is a community that understands time. Like the doxology (1:3–14), this passage focuses on understanding the past, the present, and the future. This letter will frequently contrast the hopeless past of the recipients with their present and future privilege in Christ. Here it looks to the specific past event of God’s work in Christ—his life, death, and especially resurrection as events that have changed the course of history and determine the future.

In a world that knows no time except the present, Christians must remind people about the future—something we have failed to do. We too have been caught up by the present, emphasizing only the here and now in our preaching and teaching. But if there is no future, there is no gospel. The brevity, injustice, suffering, and dying in this life cry out for the ultimate victory of God, for God to do something. Christians are eschatologically oriented because they know that God has done something marvelous and is not finished. The new age has come in the midst of the old, and one day the new age will be all that is left.

Christians must know both what they already have in Christ and what still awaits them. We too groan with creation, awaiting God’s final redemption (Rom. 8:19–24). It is part of understanding time. We live between the times of the beginning of the resurrection and its end. Christians—even in their frustration—know the patience that comes from faith. As Tertullian put it, “Faith is patience with the lamp lit.”38

Too often, however, we are comfortable enough with the present that we do not care about the future. For those attempting to focus only on pleasure in this life, Christianity has the responsibility of removing society’s insulation from the truth of the hardship of life and of death. Without being morbid and without neglecting the legitimacy of pleasure and life, we must face and embrace both suffering and death. The gospel allows us to do just that.39

For those who know this life is temporary and feel its meaninglessness, we convey the hope of God’s future, when he has a people for himself. Even those looking into death’s face can have hope. Without diminishing the awful pain of diseases like AIDS and cancer, people can know God is bigger than disease, that he does not leave them, and that he holds out his future to them. That does not change the reality of death, but it does reduce it from being ultimate and final to an enemy God has defeated in the resurrection. Dying may be horrendous, but it cannot separate us from God’s love and it is not the last word. Even in death, God stays with us and gives us hope.

(5) The church is a confident community. Surely the reason why Paul prays that his readers will know hope, God’s inheritance, and power is so they may live confidently. If the Christ to whom they are connected has been exalted over every other power, we as Christians do not need to worry about the powers. Nothing can separate us from Christ, disqualify us, or condemn us (Rom. 8:31–39). If Christ is the one who conveys the fullness of God, we do not need to worry about having missed something. We know of our own value and place in God’s purposes. We are the beneficiaries of his lordship and we live under his lordship.

The church’s confidence ought not, however, be misunderstood as triumphalism—the sin of overemphasizing “victory” so that sin, difficulty, and pain are not acknowledged and dealt with. Triumphalism in its arrogance forgets the cross and God’s identification with the pain of the world. It also forgets what is still awaited—the complete victory of God in the future. The Corinthian community was guilty of the sin of triumphalism, but Paul reminded them of the cross and of the fact that God’s power is made complete in weakness, a weakness that identifies with the self-giving love of the cross (esp. 2 Cor. 12:9; 13:4). Such confidence does not gloss over life’s problems, but it is defined by the resurrection and lordship of Jesus Christ.

(6) The church is a community of power. The power Christians have is not intrinsic power, something they have in themselves, but a power that comes from God, defined by the resurrection of Jesus and his exaltation as Lord over every other power, both now and in the future. Because no other power can rival him, and because in him the fullness of God lives, Christians do not have to look elsewhere to find what they need for life. What they need is in Christ. This power, however, is not power in the abstract; it is relational power—power that is known because of being bound to the one in whom power resides.

But looking elsewhere is precisely what many people do. A strange temptation prevails to mix faith in Christ with some other ingredient—such as works, a second blessing, power over the demonic, or astrology—to mention only a few options in the syncretistic brew. But Christ is sufficient and nothing else is needed. To attempt to add to Christ is to take away from him.

We must remember this when we seek to apply the language about spiritual powers in 1:21. The purpose of this verse is not to provide information about spiritual beings so that Christians can worry about them or seek to name them and bind them. Its purpose is that people may focus on Christ, rejoice, and live confidently. To focus on the demonic is to lose focus on Christ—precisely what happens in Frank Peretti’s novels. Such a focus is out of bounds, as are Walter Wink’s suggestions of talking to the demonic.40 Evil is real, and as far as we can tell, so are spiritual beings, but they are not mentioned in this passage because they are a threat or should be a cause of concern. Instead, they are defeated and we need not worry.

The real issue here and throughout Scripture is the question, “What determines who we are? Where do we get our identity?” Christians are defined and shaped by Jesus Christ and his life, death, and resurrection; demons and spiritual forces are not determining or shaping factors. They have an extremely limited role. This is not to be cavalier with the reality of evil, for evil is very real (as the rest of Ephesians will show), but the application of this text gives no license for focusing on spiritual beings.

Two additional points need to be addressed. (a) A focus on power does not suggest a focus on “power religion”—the contemporary movement focusing on miracles, predictive prophecy, and exorcism.41 Ephesians will provide little support for such a movement. On the other hand, neither should we accept the view that miracles were confined to the first century, for the same God who intervened in Scripture can intervene today.42

(b) If the power Christians have does not focus on miracles and the like, what good is it? If power is available, why do we not see it more? Of course, we live between the times, and Paul acknowledges in this letter that evil is still with us. The new age has come in the midst of the old (2:1–3; 4:17–19; 5:3–17; 6:10–20), but his point is not that God’s power is limited by present evil. Rather, Ephesians underscores that God’s power has invaded this present evil age in the resurrection for us (1:19–21). The theology here is precisely that announced in Romans 8:31–39: God’s power does not remove us from persecution, danger, difficulty, and death, but makes us more than conquerors in all such things. This is not a power to work magic and escape difficulty, but a power to live in an evil world. This power is for godly living. Much of the letter will address these issues and the change that God produces in his people. This is where application of the discussion of power must focus.

A glaring question still remains: If God’s power is directed at change in his people, why do we not see that change more frequently in people’s lives—including our own? The question is painful and cannot be set aside, but it is also—at least implicitly—the problem that Ephesians addresses. Ephesians holds up what God intends. May it also be the instrument through which God’s intention is made reality.