Original Meaning
The Former Way of Life in Sins (2:1–3)
NOTE THE VARIATIONS in the pronouns in this passage, a feature that occurs regularly in Paul’s letters and throughout Ephesians.6 Sometimes the change indicates that two different groups are being referred to; at other times no reason for the shift is discernible. Especially because of the focus on Gentiles and Jews in 2:11–22, some scholars view “you” and “your” in 2:1–3 as referring to Gentiles and “us,” “our,” and “we” as referring to Jewish Christians.7 But a closer reading of the text argues against this approach. Similar changes appear in 2:5–10 for no discernible reason. If any explanation can be made for the changes of pronouns in this passage, probably Paul uses the second-person pronouns where he is attempting to emphasize the relevance of his statements for his readers.
Dead in transgressions and sins (2:1). Looking back from the perspective of life in Christ, Paul viewed the former life as death, that is, spiritual death,8 life without God, or a meaningless life hardly worth living.9 For those who think life comes from God and is experienced in relation to God, separation from God is equivalent to death (cf. 4:18).
Elsewhere Paul views death as a tyrant that dominates unredeemed humanity, both in their present living and in their destiny in the grave.10 Ernest Best describes the view in 2:1 as “a realized eschatological conception of death.”11 In other words, the end result has invaded and permeated the present. Death controls life. It is nonrelational, powerless, and corrupting. As a consequence of sin, people have no relation to God and distorted relations with each other. They are powerless to change and are being pulled down to destruction.
As in Romans 5:12–21, death is a result of sin. The expression “dead in your transgressions and sins” suggests that sins both cause death and are evidence of death. No attempt should be made to distinguish between “transgressions” and “sins;” for both words are used to express one idea concerning the variety and dominance of sins.12
Living in sins (2:2–3).The word translated “live” is actually “walk,” a word used frequently in New Testament texts to describe a way of life. The instructions in chapters 4 and 5 are framed around this word. While more frequent in Ephesians than other Pauline letters, this word is at the center of Paul’s ethical thinking.13 The metaphor has its origin in the Old Testament idea of walking in the way of the Lord (e. g., Deut. 5:33; Ps. 1:1; Isa. 30:21.)
Particularly with this letter’s focus on being in Christ, the description of the former life as in transgressions and sins is significant. These words describe the path in which people walk and the boundaries that shape their lives. As we have seen, Paul has a “spheres of influence” theology.14 People live in one of two spheres or environments, either in Christ or in sin(s). Transgressions and sins determine the environment in the former way of life (cf. 1 Cor. 15:17).
Two other descriptions of this former life are given in 2:2: following “the ways of this world and of the ruler of the kingdom of the air.” “The ways” of this world is an appropriate translation, but a nuance is lost from the more literal “age of this world”—the same word used in 1:21 of the present and the coming age, and in 2:7 of the coming ages throughout which God’s grace will be demonstrated. The former way of life of these believers involved conformity with the present worldly age.15 “World” has a broad semantic range in the New Testament, covering creation, people, and a world system that either leaves God out of the picture or is openly hostile to him. Clearly Paul’s intent here is to focus on this world system, a way of life shaped by a system that does not consider God (similar to the expression “living according to the flesh”).16
Living in sins is also living in conformity with “the ruler of the kingdom of the air.” Christ is exalted over all the powers and fills all things (1:21–23), but another power is also at work. Although Paul does not name this ruler, he is clearly talking about a life that follows the evil one (6:16) or the devil (4:27; 6:11).17
Exactly what is intended with “the ruler of the kingdom of the air” and how it relates to the words that follow are unclear. The word translated as “kingdom” is actually the word usually translated by “authority.”18 Colossians 1:13 has a similar theology; Christians are delivered from the realm or dominion of darkness. According to 3:10 and 6:12 the domain of the rulers and powers is in the heavenly realms. The ancient world apparently viewed the air between heaven and earth as the domain of spirits.19 From a biblical perspective, this may have been enhanced by Job 1–2, which speaks of Satan appearing before the throne of God, though that is uncertain. The ruler has control of this godless domain, the atmosphere, and instead of living in accord with God’s domain, people choose a tyrant instead of the God who created them.20
“The spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient” can be taken in various ways.21 The “spirit” likely refers either to the “ruler” or the “kingdom.” If the former, the ruler is the spirit now at work. If the latter, “spirit” describes that over which he rules, and his realm is at work. The difference is significant, for in the first case, the ruler is personal, referring to the devil at work in disobedient people, while in the second it is impersonal, meaning the world order at work (note similar ideas and questions in 1 Cor. 2:6–8, 12). The NIV has interpreted “spirit” as describing the ruler himself. This is supported by the fact that it is easier to see a ruler at work than a kingdom. But even if reference is to the world order at work, the evil one is still ruler over that world order.
Disobedience and unbelief are often equated in the New Testament,22 enough so that translations sometimes use “unbelievers” when the Greek actually has “disobedient” (cf. NIV at Rom. 15:31). Disobedience and life in sins are contrasted with living in good works prepared by God in Ephesians 2:10.
Sinful nature and wrath (2:3). As if to avoid the suggestion that the readers were a uniquely evil group, Paul switches to the first person plural and affirms that all of us at one time lived among the disobedient. His concern is not that Christians merely lived among the disobedient, but that they also lived like them, determined by the old order. The blame is not placed on the ruler of the old realm, even though he is at work. Rather, it is placed on the “sinful nature” (sarx; lit., “flesh”). The translation of sarx as “sinful nature” avoids misleading ideas that suggest humanity or the material is negative, but it creates confusion with the second occurrence of the English word “nature,” which renders a different Greek word.
Paul uses sarx in various ways in his letters, usually with negative ethical connotations as here. It usually refers to that which leaves God out of the picture, that which is merely human and left to its own devices. Implicit is the thought that without God, desires are the lord in control. They must be gratified and followed. In the former life we lived by our sinful desires, doing whatever they told us. “Cravings” and “desires” refer to legitimate human needs that are distorted, subverted, and heightened to produce an irrational self-centeredness (see comments on 4:17–19, 28–29). Once again Paul focuses on the mind. The former life is marked by a misaligned reasoning process that causes people to do what the sinful nature says. Sin causes a distortion in the mind (see esp. Rom. 1:21–22, 28).
The result is that all people are “by nature objects of wrath.” That is, all people are headed for an encounter with God’s wrath. “Objects of wrath” is literally “children of wrath.” “Children of” (or “son of”) is a Semitic way of saying “characterized by” or “described by.” 23 These people are under God’s wrath, both his present wrath (cf. John 3:26; Rom. 1:18)24 and his future wrath (cf. Rom. 5:9; Eph. 5:4). Both are implied here. Paul is not thinking of uncontrolled outbursts of angry passion on God’s part nor of some impersonal wrath; rather, wrath points to God’s constant displeasure and reaction against sin.
“Nature” (physis) has a variety of meanings: for example, the order of nature (Rom. 1:26; Rom. 11:21; 1 Cor. 11:1425), every kind of animal (James 3:7), and what one is by constitution rather than from experience or circumstance (e.g., Rom. 2:27; Gal. 2:15; 4:8; 2 Peter 1:4). The use in Ephesians 2:3 falls into this third category. By their very nature human beings in this fallen world are sinful and therefore under God’s wrath, even though the text does not explain how this came about.
This text speaks of the universality of sin, but it does not reject the value of humanity. It points to pervasive depravity, a depravity that extends to all human thought and action, but it does not suggest total depravity in the sense of absolute worthlessness. All humans—whether believers or not—are created in the image of God and have enormous value and capability. Despite depravity, God finds something worth loving.26
The picture the text paints is bleak. Because of sins, humans are the living dead. They live in keeping with a world order that ignores God and in keeping with a tyrant who works to cause disobedience. In their enslavement they follow desires and distorted reasonings that leave God out of the picture and, therefore, they are under God’s wrath. But, the main point of Ephesians—and especially of 2:1–10—is that God will not stay out of the picture.
Bridging Contexts
AT TIMES BRIDGING contexts is required because of the foreignness of beliefs and practices in an ancient culture, because of the newness of the worldview Christianity brings, or because of the distortion of the beliefs and practices of modern culture, including the modern church culture. Sometimes the bridge has been broken from our side. All three of these gulfs exist in understanding this text.
The main problem in appropriating this passage is for us to take it seriously. For the most part, we do not believe the picture of ourselves is as bad as Paul says. Are the lives we so carefully groom meaningless—a living death—without God in the picture? On the other hand, we find it hard to believe that the facts are as good as Paul says. Does God really love us so deeply and are we actually exalted with Christ in the heavenly realms? The passage is about value and hope: Without God humanity has little of either; with God humanity is given immense hope and lasting value.
Two wrong turns (2:1–3).The process of application must always follow the intent and function of the passage. In doing so, we must avoid wrong turns. (1) The first wrong turn is overreading the text. These verses must be taken for what they are—a dramatic description of the former life, not a full theology of humanity. (2) The second wrong turn is overreacting to the text. The description of the world and of humanity is bleak; consequently, it would be easy to reject the world and all association with unbelievers. But a healthy theology of creation does not allow rejection of humanity or the material world and enjoyment of it. God announced his creation good (Gen. 1), and this assumption is fundamental to Paul’s theology (see 1 Cor. 10:26; 1 Tim. 4:4). “Separation from the world” is not to be taken lightly, but that teaching does not mean disrespect for or distancing ourselves from unbelievers (1 Cor. 5:9–10). The attitude that God’s people take toward unbelievers must mirror the love described in Ephesians 2:4–10.
Can it be this bad? (2:1–3).At first glance Paul’s description of life without Christ appears too harsh. Is everyone as degraded as he suggests? Does not life also have joy and happiness in it? Are there not many good, ethical people for whom this description does not fit? Is everyone destined for God’s wrath? Paul is not denying the value of creation or of humanity created in the image of God. He is not saying all human beings are worthless, nor is his primary concern what will happen on Judgment Day. His concern is to contrast the plight of humanity without God with the privilege of humanity with God and in Christ.
Unfortunately, Paul’s estimate of humanity without God is not unduly harsh. People in both the ancient and modern worlds—even apart from religious conviction—have come to the same conclusion. Some ancient Greeks knew living death so well they coined the proverb Soma sema—“The body is a tomb.” 56 Old Testament passages like Psalm 90, Ecclesiastes, or Isaiah 40:6–8 reveal the same awareness of the brevity and meaninglessness of life apart from God. Religions like Hinduism seek nirvana through escape from this life and its cycle of reincarnation.
If all this sounds too morbid for modern Western culture, we need only to reflect on the evil in our own society, our suicide rate, the enormous problems caused by escapism through alcohol and drugs, and the meaninglessness that challenges all of us as we face injustice, disease, and our own death.57 Death haunts us and is our destiny. If we also remember that fully one billion people live in dire poverty and that war and terrorism afflict the planet, “living death” may be too soft a description.
Ephesians 2:1–3, however, does not merely address the human plight in general terms; it speaks specifically of being dead in trespasses and sins. Sin is the act of choosing our own way and leaving God out of the picture. That is why Paul can say that “everything that does not come from faith is sin” (Rom. 14:23). If God is the giver of life, every act that ignores God is sin. We have tried to find life in ourselves and our own desires, and in the process have cut ourselves off from the Giver of life and have crippled our relations with other people. Death—non-relational by definition—is the result.
But note that this text does not merely address evil sinners—the other people. It addresses all of us. Religious people too can be dead in sins. Remember Jesus’ complaint that the Pharisees were like whitewashed tombs full of dead bones (Matt. 23:27–28). All of us are guilty of living without God. Yes, there is decency and goodness in many people. That too is temporary and meaningless without God and does not alter the fact of universal sinfulness.
A kind of blindness makes appropriation of this text difficult. It says that we live in keeping with the world and its “ruler,” but we are deluded into believing we determine ourselves. We tell ourselves we are not susceptible to peer pressure, that we do what we want, without ever asking what or who determines our wants. All of us are children of our time, and the truth is that our time is geared away from God and towards sin and meaninglessness. Evil is a force that determines us—whether it be the evil in our own self-seeking souls, the evil that grips our self-seeking society, or the evil that the “ruler” seeks to accomplish.
The ruler. Paul’s statement that the “ruler” is at work—apparently to cause disobedience—is not open to empirical investigation. Balance is crucial in this discussion, and care should be taken not to read into the Bible the mythology that has grown up around the devil. The Bible says much less about the devil than some Christians do. Without doubt, Paul believed in a being that fostered evil. Can modern people really believe in such a being? Or can the ancient idea of the devil be reduced to the force of evil in the world?
Walter Wink thinks so. He brackets the ontological question, “Does Satan exist?” in order to deal with the fact and experience of evil.58 He is correct at one level, for all of us must face the reality of evil in the world and in ourselves. His descriptions of Satan are thought-provoking: “the archetypal representation of the collective weight of human fallenness, the symbol of the spirit of an entire society alienated from God”; “the real interiority of a society that idolatrously pursues its own enhancement as the highest good”; and “often experienced as an actual force of evil craving annihilation.”59 On the other hand, the ontological question about the existence of the devil may not be shelved any more than the question of the existence of God. Why is it relatively easy for us to believe in a beneficent being but difficult to believe in a malevolent one?
Questions about the existence of God and the devil are really variations on the questions “Are we alone?” and “Could we get in this human plight by ourselves?” As this relates to God, the issues have to do with creation, its purpose, and the resulting life with God. As it relates to the devil, the issues have to do with human sin and depravity. The Bible points to the tempter (i.e., the devil) for the entrance of sin. By far, however, it stresses human sin—not the devil—as the cause of the difficulty and evil in the world. The devil is only mentioned three times in the Old Testament,60 and while New Testament references are more frequent, the devil’s standing is limited.61 He is not the “marquee player”; most of us do evil well enough by ourselves.
In other words, any overemphasis on the role of the devil is wrong. This passage intends to remind its readers of their former plight, not to magnify the illegitimate ruler. We must recognize a tension in relation to belief in the devil. The more we emphasize the devil, the less we emphasize human depravity. An overemphasis on the devil is a way of overvaluing ourselves so that we escape the blame. In the New Testament the devil is not presented as the problem for which we need a solution. Our own sin and this evil age are. Moreover, to overemphasize the devil is to underemphasize Christ. In effect, this would-be ruler does not deserve our attention—a threat yes, but a minor player.
Many modern Christians give far too much attention and power to the devil, almost as if he were omnipresent. The Bible does not present a cosmological dualism, as if God and the devil were virtual equals wrestling for humanity. Only one supreme being exists—God. The force of this whole passage is to underscore God’s triumph in Christ (1:18–23). Ephesians does recognize another power at work, but not as a threat to God’s purposes or, at least as far as 2:1–3 is concerned, even to Christians (cf. also 4:27; 6:10–20). Fear or anxiety about the devil and his forces does not derive from Scripture, nor does fascination or preoccupation. Obviously balance is required. Paul does see a threat here, but he is more concerned that people have aligned with the ruler of this world than that they will be overpowered by him.
In the end, the blame is not placed on the ruler, but on us. We have chosen to follow our own desires, and our society has reinforced the choice. But rather than bringing satisfaction, it has made us subject to the wrath of God.
Does God get angry? (2:3). The idea of God’s wrath causes problems for us in the twentieth century. It seems theologically unsophisticated and offensive. How can a loving God get angry? Yet in some ways the Bible—from Genesis 3 to the end of Revelation—is the story of the wrath of God, of God’s reaction to disobedience and sin. Is God a doting parent who ignores wrongdoing? In reality, the wrath of God is an essential doctrine. Wrath and judgment are the presupposition of salvation. If God does not have wrath, salvation is not needed.
Careless language about God’s wrath leaves the impression that God is angry at humans, but Christ loves them and gains God’s favor for them by dying on the cross. But the cross does not gain back God’s favor. Rather, God’s favor was the basis of Jesus’ death. Romans 5:8 reminds us that God demonstrated his love in sending Christ, while we were still sinners. No division exists in the Godhead between the Father and the Son or between the wrath of God and the love of God. Love is not the opposite of wrath. As difficult as it may be to conceive, the wrath of God is an expression of his love and deep attachment to his people. Already in the third century, the theologian Lactantius wrote that “he who does not get angry does not care.”62 If God can look at the sin and injustice in this world and not get angry, he is not much of a God! The God of the Bible is not some unmovable, unfeeling force, but a God who cares.
The story of the Bible is the story of God himself taking action to keep his anger from destroying humanity. After the Fall, in the wilderness, with the sacrificial system, with the prophets, in the Exile and Return, and most of all on the cross, God was at work dealing with his own anger and showing mercy.63 Yes, God gets angry. He cares deeply, and his anger is both an expression of his love and the context in which his love is demonstrated.
Can it be this good? (2:4–7).Application of these verses is difficult because they sound too good to be true. Two questions present themselves: (1) Can we seriously believe God loves us? 2) Were we really involved in events that happened to Christ? In both cases appropriation of the message depends on hearing the Word (Rom. 10:17) and on the work of the Holy Spirit.
(1) That God loves and shows mercy is a truism. The problem is that we either take God’s love for granted with no impact on our lives or we reject that God could love someone as sinful and/or insignificant as we are. The good news is that God knows how bad things are, but changes them. Where wrath should have come, mercy comes instead. Awareness of the enormity of the plight helps prevent taking God’s love for granted, but the love of God must be appropriated individually. This is why Paul emphasized the wealth of God’s mercy and love. His resources for loving are not limited, and his love extends even to the least deserving. The Holy Spirit is the one who conveys the love of God to us as we open ourselves to the gospel message (Rom. 5:5).
(2) Possibly the most difficult task of bringing Ephesians into our lives is in understanding how we are involved in events that happened to Christ. How can it possibly be true that what happened to Christ happened (past tense) to us at the same time? We were not even born then, and we are now separated from him by two thousand years, culture, geography, race, and every conceivable reality. Both Jesus and we are individuals. Does that not preclude our being involved in actions specific to him?
Help for understanding these ideas is already in the Old Testament and in Greek thought. The reality we need to grasp in order to feel the force of Paul’s statements is that of living in God. This notion is not entirely new. A psalmist prayed: “Lord, you have been our dwelling place throughout all generations” (Ps. 90:1), and a Greek poet is quoted approvingly by Paul for his statement: “For in him we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28).
The “corporate solidarity” of the Old Testament and Semitic culture provides further background.64 Focus was placed on the oscillation between the individual and community so that what the individual did impacted the community and vice versa. Titles like “son of man,” “servant,” and “son of God” were all corporate terms used of Israel or the remnant as well as of individuals. These titles were taken over by Jesus because of his identification with Israel’s task in God’s purposes. In effect, he became Israel, the Elect One of God (Luke 9:35).
When the early Christians tried to describe Jesus and his work, they did not merely describe him as an individual to whom certain things happened. They saw him as the beginning of a new order, as a new Adam heading up a new race. Consequently, they no longer saw themselves merely as individuals, but as individuals taken up in and involved with Jesus.
Moreover, though the cross and resurrection are historical events, they are not merely historical events. They are also eschatological and inclusive events—the death of death and the firstfruits of the end-time resurrection.65 As R. Tannehill says, “Christ’s death and resurrection are not merely events which produce benefits for the believer but are events in which the believer himself [or herself] participates.”66
Similarly, though Jesus is a historical person, he is not merely a historical person. Rather, he is the one in whom humanity is represented and included. Since this whole new order is embodied in Christ, time is both transcended and maintained. Jesus identified with the plight of humanity and the task of Israel for humanity. He became one with humanity and took on the penalty of sin. In conversion and baptism we identify with Christ’s death and resurrection, and we live out the pattern of death and resurrection in our lives. Christianity is not primarily a religion of ideas, but a religion of participation, of involvement, and of fellowship with God in Christ. Christians are called into fellowship with God’s Son, have been crucified with Christ, have been baptized into his death, have put off the old being and have put on Christ himself, and will be united with him in resurrection (Rom. 6:2–11; 13:14; 1 Cor. 1:9; Gal. 2:19–20; 3:26–27).
But how is this participation to be understood? It cannot be literal, for we were not there when Jesus was crucified. On the other hand, to say it is metaphorical seems to rob it of its force. This language of participation with Christ points to the solidarity we experience with Christ by the grace of God and through faith.67 We are attached to him by faith and partake of him. The Spirit is the one who causes that union with Christ (see 1:13; Rom. 8:1–17; 1 Cor. 12:13).
Our exaltation with Christ in the heavenly realms is merely an extension of this solidarity. This too is a reality, although not literal. It is Paul’s way of saying Jesus is victorious and that his victory—not the human plight—determines who we really are. This is a direct implication of the early Christian confession, “Jesus is Lord.” The emphasis on realized eschatology is strong.
Yes, the gospel is as good as 2:4–7 says. Anything less than the affirmations in 2:4–7 is not the gospel and does not do justice to the God who binds himself to us in Jesus Christ.
The church’s failure with faith (2:8–10). A colossal problem exists in moving from faith as used in this text to faith as understood in the modern world. What pernicious and devious force has so subverted the meaning of the word “faith?” As pointed out above, Paul’s understanding of “faith” includes attachment, union, and solidarity with Christ, whereas in much of the church—including the evangelical church—“faith” means assent, decision, or the teachings one affirms. Whereas in Paul’s thought “faith” is life-changing and productive of good deeds, for much of the church change is desirable with faith, but not necessary, and “not by works” means one does not have to do anything. A decision, the right prayer prayed, is enough to go to heaven. How did faith in Christ get perverted into thought about Christ? How did all the focus get placed on getting into heaven? How did anyone read the New Testament and conclude we do not have to do anything?
Many Christians have reacted against the idea that salvation is some transaction with God to ensure going to heaven.68 Martin Luther and the Reformers, of course, reacted against the excesses of indulgences and the thought that people could gain their access to God by what they did. Much of Paul’s thought, including this passage, is designed to prevent any such idea. But we distort the very idea of faith when we fail to see that it joins us to Christ and affects the whole reality of our lives. The faith that many people profess is nothing more than a false and groundless hope of escaping judgment. We do nothing to gain our salvation and life with God, but such a joining to God does everything to us. To build a bridge from the text to our situation we must recover and proclaim a biblical faith, one that involves us with Christ, effects a new creation in us, and propels us into doing the good things God expects. Faithfulness in Christian living is not an optional part of the faith.
Contemporary Significance
THIS PASSAGE DOES not instruct the readers to do anything; it only states what God has done in Christ. The implications, however, are enormous for what Christians should do and think. Surely proper application of this text starts with speechlessness, then moves to wonder and worship, and finally to obedience and service. The astonishment reflected in the repetition “dead in transgressions” (vv. 1 and 5) and the expansive language describing God’s grace should be confessed. The contrast between the plight of humanity without God and the privilege of humanity with God is remarkable. The salvation and grace described here are the reasons why the letter started in 1:3 with the doxology. Worship—a worship that embraces all of life—is the proper response.
This passage contrasts two ways of living, the former life in sins and the present life in Christ. By implication the text asks, “Where will you live?” What are the defining markers of the path along which we walk and who laid out the path?69 This passage provides a description of reality, as if to say, “This is what life in the world is really like and this is what life with God is really like.” The focus of the text is identity. Who are we and who is God? From knowing who we are, we know how to live. This passage thus reveals the identity of people without God, the identity of people in Christ, and the identity of God.
Geography determines identity: The former life (2:1–3). Who are we? We are all people with a past, a past marked by disobedience and failure, which demonstrates something is very wrong at the core of our being. This is true of all people. None of us can escape the indictment; we are geared to self-seeking and the satisfaction of self-centered cravings, whether we make this obvious or covert in our lives.
We spoke earlier of Paul’s “sense of geography,” referring to his “spheres of influence” theology, which views life as lived either in sin or in Christ.70 That theology is expressed in this text. If one lives in sin, one’s identity is determined by sin, the old world order, and the “ruler of the kingdom of the air.” Such a person is controlled by sinful desires and reasonings and, consequently, lives under the wrath of God.
As a result, this text requires us to take sin more seriously than we usually do. As to the plight of humanity, sins cannot be thought of merely in terms of the individual and choices that one makes. Rather, we must think first of a world order and a power of evil dominating our perspectives and actions. The world in which we live seeks to stamp us with its assumptions and character. Clearly Paul believed people need deliverance from an evil realm or age (cf. Gal. 1:4).
How, for example, did Germany become so pervasively distorted to follow Nazism? Not because German people are more sinful than other people, but because a whole self-seeking order grew up in the chaos after the Depression and deceived millions, including many in the church. Germans were seeking what all of us seek—security, respect, and economic prosperity.
How did the United States become so distorted with racism and the Vietnam war? Why does materialism have such a deep grip on modern society? How do needs become cravings? How does sexual practice become so distorted as to be idolatrous? The good is distorted by a world system that leaves God out of the picture, which is what sin always does. Isaiah’s confession is descriptive of us all: “I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips” (Isa. 6:5). Sin is personal, individual, and corporate, and a consent to a manipulative age without God.
The problem for Christians is that two overlapping realms or ages exist (compare 1:21 and 2:2). Though a new age exists in Christ, the old age is still with us and at work. Which realm will define us? This text attempts to describe what was formerly true (2:2–3), but for many Christians that is still their reality. A break with the past has not really occurred. They are attracted to the glitz and glitter of the world. One can understand that people who do not know God are stranded in a living death, but how can one comprehend Christians who have found life still turning back to death? Christians need to be much more aware that the old order still wants to define who we are. If the desires of Christians are the same as those of non-Christians and if the desires are fulfilled the same way, the gospel is useless.
To live out the implications of this text requires self-analysis and defiance. Christians must always distinguish between life with and without God. Again the focus is on our minds. What belongs to life as God created it and gave for our enjoyment? What belongs to the world as an attempt to find life in one’s self and without God? On first glance the two may look the same—all humans have the same needs and drives—but the two approaches are miles apart. We must distinguish the world that God created from the world that human beings subvert to their own purposes. The former leads to worship of God; the latter leads to the wrath of God. Once we have distinguished God’s order from the old order, we are obligated to defiance, a defiance rooted in the confession “Jesus is Lord.” If Jesus is Lord, sin and the old world order cannot be our geography, and Christians must say a constant “No” to their attempts to define us.
Geography determines identity: Life in and with Christ (2:4–10). A Christian’s self-understanding is found outside the Christian,71 and conversion is a transition to a new identity.72 Our true identity is not determined by personal characteristics, experiences, and abilities, even though those items are important. It is determined by life in and with Jesus Christ. He is the environment that shapes us. Paul felt this so forcefully that he said: “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me” (Gal. 2:20). Specifically, Christ’s death and resurrection are events reproduced in our lives. We die to the old world and its tyrannies of sin and self and rise to life in the Spirit (6:14–15). As important as imitation of Jesus is, identification with Christ is much more important. Our culture will always shape us, but Jesus Christ must be our primary culture.73 That is the force of the “co-resurrection” language.
To be in and with Christ means that ours is no longer an individual identity. We are in solidarity with Christ, or as 5:31 puts it, “we are members of his body.” Life is relational, and our primary relation is with Jesus Christ. So what is this new identity? Because of our attachment to Christ, believers are people about whom it must be said:
(1) They have experienced resurrection. Their living death has been turned into true life.74 They experience salvation as a present reality.
(2) Their new lives are the very creation of God.
(3) Exalted with Christ their Lord, they enjoy unparalleled privilege, honor, and security. They are not held back by fear or vulnerability; rather, they have what they need for life with God.
(4) They experience God’s abundant kindness throughout eternity.
In essence this passage screams out “Get a life!” Too often we have become spectators of life and spend enormous amounts of time on trivialities. Is not the fascination with the lives of the “rich and famous” due to our triviality? Why does our society spend so much time watching talk shows that discuss the banal and bizarre? We need to live out the transition from death to life (2:1–10) by turning from banality to life with Christ.
So why is the identity question so important? An understanding of identity is not some philosophical or theological question for idle musing. It is an understanding of who we are—whether consciously or unconsciously known—and it determines how we live.
Three more wrong turns. Knowledge of our new identity can lead to pride, escapism, and perfectionism. Each of these is a wrong turn in our walk with God. Each is also a variation on the Christian sin of triumphalism. We as Christians must learn to distinguish our legitimate triumph (e.g., Rom. 8:37; 2 Cor. 2:14–3:6) from the arrogant sin of triumphalism.
(1) The privileges we have from God by virtue of our salvation can easily be turned into pharisaic pride and an accompanying disdain for other people who do not know these facts. If we do that, we forget that all our privileges are due to association with Christ, not to ourselves. Pride is as wrong after conversion as before. Worship and obedience are the only proper responses to God’s call.
(2) The ideas of privilege and exaltation with Christ can lead to spiritual escapism, as if to say that because we are exalted with Christ, we need have nothing to do with this world. Nothing could be further from Paul’s mind, as the paraenetic sections show. Paul does not support mystic narcissism or ethical passivity; rather, he promotes new creation and identity with Christ as the shaping factor in our lives. Being in Christ affirms that he gives us our identity and determines who we are. As James Stewart points out, union with Christ is the foundation of Paul’s ethics.75
(3) Texts like this have led some to the delusion of perfectionism. If we are exalted with Christ, should we not be free from all sin? If we are in Christ and he is in us, then should not sin be impossible for us? Again, balance is required. Most of us assume that sin is just a necessary part of life. Our expectations are low in our fight against sin. But Paul’s expectations were high. He was optimistic and fully confident believers would live godly lives. But he did not believe in or hint at perfectionism (see 1 Cor. 13:8–13; Phil. 3:12–16).76 To believe in perfectionism is to forget the now and not yet character of biblical Christianity. We do live in two ages, and the reality of the old age and its impact on us cannot be ignored. Worse, to believe in perfectionism is to be blinded by one’s own spiritual arrogance.
In addition to the wrong turns a caution is in order. This passage presents a picture of radical change in moving from death to life. While this picture is true in reality, not all people experience such a dramatic conversion, nor should they be expected to.77 People who grow up in godly families may not even be able to identify the time of conversion. Some conversions, like Paul’s (Acts 9), are dramatic, other, like Timothy’s (2 Tim. 1:5), are gradual; some are revolutionary, some evolutionary—though in both cases the movement is from death to life, dealing with the same theology of sin.
Eternal security? The theological question concerning eternal security is prompted by the triumphal tone of the text and the emphasis of Ephesians on being “in Christ.” If one is in Christ, can one move out of Christ? If one is seated with Christ in the heavenlies, can that position be lost? It is tempting to assume that the logic behind this text presupposes eternal security. If we have been saved, does that not presuppose eternal security?
Such a conclusion is unfair. In the New Testament salvation is past, present, and future.78 Salvation certainly is enjoyed in the present, and Paul was confident—but not presumptuous—about future judgment. But he is not dealing here with the possibility of apostasy, which the New Testament views as a real threat. Rather, he is describing the privilege of being joined with Christ. Whether that union can be broken has to be addressed from other texts.79
We should ask, however, if the anxiety over eternal security does not emerge from an inadequate view of the gospel, one that fails to do justice to Paul’s theology of union with Christ. A weak view of faith is propped up with overemphasis on “once saved, always saved.” Such preaching has too often resulted in people “making a decision” and not taking faith seriously ever again. Nothing could be further from Paul’s understanding of faith, and no one should proclaim such a gospel.
The identity of God: The persistent, loving God. A modern singer has commented: “I feel that the greatest gift you can give another person or an audience is a revelation of what’s in your heart and soul.”80 God gave just such a gift of self-revelation. In giving his gift of salvation, God revealed a heart and soul full of mercy, love, grace, and kindness. If God has done all this to change our death to life, what a wonderful and loving God he shows himself to be! This section provides a great summary of Paul’s gospel, because it expresses poignantly that God is for us. We can almost hear Romans 8:31–32: “If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son … how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?” To apply this passage is not merely to think about the past or about God in the abstract, but to know the identity of God as God for us. As one person stated, “God takes no action that does not have man as its object.”81 God is the persistent, loving God, rich in mercy and grace.
Over and over in Ephesians Paul reveals God as showering people with grace. He is not the Deist God who sits afar off and waits. He is the active God, who will not stay out of the picture; he is Immanuel—God with us. Such a God brings joy and rejoicing to our lives.
Two more wrong turns. It is easy to presume on the mercy of God and forget God’s judgment and our responsibility. (1) The person who says, “I like committing crimes. God likes forgiving them. Really the world is admirably arranged,”82 is reckless and in danger. (2) At the same time, texts like this one emphasizing the love and activity of God can also easily be twisted into a “health and wealth” theology, as we have already seen. The love of God does not work like magic to remove the problems from the world and put all Christians on easy street. The love of God is present in the midst of problems and difficulty (see Rom. 8:35–39).
Salvation without works. If salvation is a gift of grace, then human beings can do nothing to achieve it. It is God’s work, a gift extended to everyone. Its cause is purely in God’s character, not in the character or conduct of any person. No act or virtue can be presented to God to gain acceptance. But for many grace is so hard to believe or accept. Virtually all our experience tells us that we have to earn acceptance, love, and respect. We spend our lives seeking self-actualization, some act or fact that will give us significance and standing. If we have self-confidence, we see no need to be stripped of all our hard-earned value. Other people are worse than we are, so why shouldn’t God accept us? If we lack self-confidence, we find it hard to think God will accept us under any circumstance. Either way, grace is so hard to take.
But remember that grace is God’s giving us himself. He accepts us without precondition or complaint. We are given significance and standing by our relation to God. We are valued by grace, but the attention is not placed on us, but on the God who loves so deeply. Grace moves us to worship and true humility. If all the initiative comes from God and all the praise belongs to him, no room is left for either pride or self-depreciation.83 But if grace is taken seriously, the focus is moved off ourselves, and pride does not have a leg to stand on. Dealing with grace and pride is, of course, a daily task and part of our ongoing identification with the death of Christ.
Unfortunately, Christians have as hard a time with pride as anyone. We tend to think that grace is only for salvation, and then we have to work to prove ourselves, or that by working we prove ourselves better than others, especially non-Christians. Accomplishment is important, but not to make us more acceptable to God. Furthermore, our good deeds never make us more important than other people. Grace is not just the beginning of Christian life, but the whole. We live in grace (Rom. 5:2) and we are to mirror grace to others. The dynamic that produces salvation is the dynamic by which we live (Gal. 3:3).
A terrible wrong turn. Does not all this lead to “cheap grace” and a do-nothing religion for many people? Unfortunately it has, but this practice distorts the gospel. To think that Paul’s words about grace and faith apart from works could lead to a religion in which people do nothing shows ignorance about the meaning of all three words. For Paul grace is a power that put him to work (1 Cor. 15:10). When he wrote against “works,” he was combating the idea that certain practices—especially Jewish ones—were necessary for people in order to be acceptable to God. Ephesians 2:10 shows salvation is not from works, but it is for good works. God saves people so that they might live productive lives in keeping with what God intended for humanity. With “good works” Paul was not thinking about “do-goodism,” but about a life reflective of God’s love (see chaps. 4–6).
A recovery of the New Testament faith described here will reconfigure the church. Imagine a church in which people knew they were bound to Jesus Christ, lived in union with him, reflected his death and resurrection, and, conscious of their new creation by God, lived productive lives. That is what Paul was describing, and that is what we are called to be.
A faith worth having—and sharing. In these pages I have reacted against a superficial understanding of faith because much of what passes for faith in modern churches is not worth having. It evokes no deep commitment, no deep thought, and no significant change. The faith discussed in 2:4–10 is a faith worth having, for it is relational. The gift it brings ties us to the Giver so that grace becomes a power within us. The gift takes possession of us84 and brings change.
Surely if Ephesians 2:4–10 is the best summary of the gospel, this passage is of primary importance for evangelism. People in the former way cannot be left there missing out on God’s mercy. To know the Giver giving himself creates a contagious joy. The power that creates life from death cannot be hidden. The transformation from 2:1–3 to 2:4–10—if experienced—must be revealed in both word and life.
Often Christians are sure neither how they should do evangelism nor that they want to. Opportunities for evangelism are more likely to cause embarrassment, uncertainty, and guilt than spontaneity, confidence, and love. The reasons for our failure at evangelism are many, including revulsion at the tactics some people use and the illusion that we need to produce decisions from people as quickly as possible. Surely, however, success in evangelism depends on a right understanding of God and his gospel—the focus of 2:1–10. What if people experienced Christians as those joined to the loving Giver? What if they saw grace extended from people who had experienced grace? What if they saw evidence of the movement from disobedience to obedience and from death to life? What if they saw a faith worth having? Evangelism needs to be a conscious activity, but it does not need to be forced. Evangelism should be the natural expression of a life joined to a loving God, the sharing of a faith worth having.
Original Meaning
God’s Merciful Salvation in Christ and Its Purpose (2:4–7)
MANY SUGGEST AN early Christian hymn or creed stands behind 2:4–10, possibly an initiation hymn used in connection with baptism. Ephesians clearly uses earlier liturgical traditions, most obviously in 4:22–24 and 5:14. Dependence on a hymn or creed is difficult to prove, for Paul was certainly capable of both the theology and the style of this passage. A similar theology is present in Romans 7:4–6 and Titus 3:3–7. Although dependence on a baptismal hymn is unproven, baptismal ideas are clearly behind this text (cf. the parallel passage in Col. 2:12–13). Romans 6:2–11 also makes explicit reference to baptism in connection with dying and rising with Christ (see also Gal. 3:27).
The mercy and love of God. While the NIV does not show it, 2:4 begins with an emphasis on God. The picture was bleak, but God acted because of his love and mercy. That salvation is a gift and does not come as a result of anything in the receiver is made explicit in 2:8–9, but it is already implicit in 2:4. Mercy and love are revelations of God’s being, not a response to something that merits love in the individual. God acts in mercy because he is that kind of God.
The word “mercy” (eleos) does not often occur in Paul’s letters. The importance of this theme for Paul, however, is evident in its use in Romans (9:16–18, 23; 11:30–32; 15:9) and in descriptions of his own conversion (1 Tim. 1:13–16). Numerous other Scriptures focus on the mercy of God, such as Exodus 34:6; Deuteronomy 4:31; 7:7–9; Psalm 78:38; Isaiah 55:7; Jeremiah 31:20; Micah 7:18 in the Old Testament, and Matthew 5:7; 9:13; 23:23; 1 Peter 1:3 in the New Testament. Apart from God’s mercy, no hope exists for humanity.
The “love” of God is a major theme in Paul’s understanding of salvation.27 Once again, the theocentric focus of Ephesians is emphasized. God is not an onlooker in the salvation process or in an “angry huff” waiting to be appeased. Rather, he is the primary actor, the one who by his love deals with his own wrath and shows mercy to his people.
“Mercy,” “love,” “grace,” “kindness,” and “gift” in 2:4–10 are obviously closely related and show that Paul is stacking words in an attempt to describe adequately the reality of the gospel. While each of these words carries a nuance different from the others, their meanings shade into each other. They come as a cascade of expansive language attempting to describe the grandeur of God’s care for and commitment to human beings expressed in his action in Jesus.
The expansive language is also evident in the words “rich” (2:4) and “riches” (2:7), used to describe the incomprehensible and inexhaustible supply of some trait or gift of God (see Rom. 2:4; 11:33). Ephesians uses this language more than any other letter and emphasizes the riches of God’s grace (1:7; 2:7), his mercy (2:4), his glory (1:18; 3:16), and the riches of Christ (3:8). God’s “wealth” is his resources for caring for his people and for revealing his nature.
Raised with Christ from death to life. Almost as if he cannot believe the depth of God’s love, in 2:5 Paul repeats the statement from 2:1: “even when we were dead in transgressions.” The two verbs in 2:6 (“raised us up with Christ and seated us with him”) provide a commentary on “made us alive with Christ” in 2:5. These expressions do not refer to future resurrection, but to our being raised with Christ in the past, to being “co-resurrected” with Christ. Paul’s theology asserts that Christians were included in the redemptive events of Christ’s death and resurrection. The threefold repetition of “with” is significant and underscores the Pauline emphasis on participation with Christ. To enjoy salvation requires being joined to the Savior (cf. Rom. 7:4.) The gift cannot be separated from the Giver.28
The language here is reminiscent of Romans 5:6–10, which speaks of God demonstrating his love even while we were weak, sinners, and his enemies. Salvation exists because God created life in the midst of death. Without the resurrection there would be no salvation. Romans 5:6–10—like other texts—emphasizes the death of Christ as the means of salvation, and the resurrection is implicit. Here in Ephesians 2 Paul does not mention the death of Christ, focusing instead on his resurrection (cf. 1 Peter 1:3).
How we are “raised up” is not explained. Physical resurrection is not meant, but this co-resurrection is real nonetheless. If humanity’s plight is a living spiritual death (2:2–3), the solution is a spiritual resurrection. Life must be infused. Several facts suggest that the Holy Spirit is the one who makes the dead live. The seal of the Spirit in 1:13 apparently refers to the same event as 2:5, and 2 Corinthians 3:6 speaks of the Spirit making us alive (see also John 6:63).29
Some have charged that Ephesians has lost the focus on the cross, but such a complaint reveals a failure to understand the movement of Ephesians and ignores texts that do focus on the death of Jesus.30 Ephesians 2:5–6 merely extends to believers God’s act of resurrection and exaltation mentioned in 1:19–20. Paul does not focus on dying with Christ here because he uses the imagery of our being dead already in transgressions. The next section (2:13–16) will suggest that by his death Christ both deals with our “living death” and puts to death all enmity (both that between humans and God and that among humans). The point here is that when God raised Christ from the dead and exalted him, he raised and exalted Christians with him.
Neither here nor elsewhere does Paul view Christ’s death and resurrection apart from each other.31 Salvation depends on both, for when we believe, we participate in the twin event of the death and resurrection of Jesus. Parallels to participation in or identification with these two events of Jesus appear frequently.32 While this theology is implicit throughout the New Testament (e.g., Matt. 16:24–25), outside the Pauline letters it is explicit only in 1 Peter 2:4–5, 24.
Not only have Christians been raised with Christ, they have also been seated with him in the heavenly realms. What is true of him (1:20) is true of us. If he is exalted to God’s right hand, so are we. We are joined to him so that we are where he is. Several other texts speak of being exalted with Christ (see Rom. 8:37; 1 Cor. 15:48; 2 Cor. 2:14; Gal. 4:26; Phil. 3:20; Col. 3:1–4), but no text states this idea as forcefully as Ephesians 2:5–6. The intent here is to underscore the life believers now have with Christ, and with that life come privilege, honor, security, and responsibility.
This is not, however, the same as saying we are actually seated in heaven. As we saw in connection with 1:3,33 “in the heavenly realms” is not merely a synonym for “heaven.” The use of the term in 3:10 for the place of revelation to the powers and in 6:12 for the place of battle with evil forces prohibits this. The phrase points to the heavenly—i. e., the spiritual—reality of God and his work in Christ. Leon Morris suggests “the realm of spiritual realities.”34 The “heavenly realms” are not separated from this world; on the contrary they are determinative for this world.
Being raised with Christ and being seated with him are conditioned on being “in Christ Jesus.” The threefold repetition of this phrase underscores once again the centrality “in Christ” has for Paul’s theology.35 “Being in Christ is not only the fundamental fact of the individual Christian’s existence, it is the whole reality.”36 In Paul’s mind, Christ’s death and resurrection are not merely events that produce benefit for believers, they are events in which believers are included.37 According to Paul’s “spheres of influence” theology, people either live in sin and under its influence or in Christ and under his influence. It is a question of serving the tyrant sin or the Lord Christ. Conversion is a transfer from one sphere to the other, a change of lordships, and being raised with Christ is the language Paul uses to describe this transfer from the realm of death to the realm of life.38 Anything short of such a theology fails to understand Paul.
Saved by grace. As the NIV indicates, the words “by grace you have been saved” interrupt the flow of thought and show the astonishment Paul has that God should save people out of their living death. The language of having been saved and the use of the perfect tense do not follow Paul’s normal pattern. Outside this passage Paul does not use the perfect tense for the word “save” (sozo).39 This tense points to a past event and its continuing results. Salvation is viewed here as something that has occurred and is currently experienced by those who are in Christ.40 Salvation language points primarily to the idea of rescue from danger, but this is, of course, only one of several ways Paul speaks of God’s redeeming activity. No single image—justification, salvation, redemption, reconciliation, freedom, or any other—is adequate by itself to explain the reality God has worked for us.
Surely the most significant word in Paul’s discussion of salvation is “grace” (cf. 1:6–8). We have already pointed out that five key words (grace, truth, faith, love, and hope) encapsulate the Christian gospel.41 Grace is the key ingredient and by necessity comes first; everything else flows from and builds on a theology of grace. Grace means the completely undeserved, loving commitment of God to us. For some reason unknown to us, but which is rooted in his nature, God gives himself to us, attaches himself to us, and acts to rescue us. Though wrath should have come, saving grace comes instead. This action is rooted in God’s very nature.42 The initiative always lies only and completely with him. No human action could remove us from the plight in which we are found. If grace is God’s giving himself to us, this text underscores that grace connects us to Christ.
Demonstration for the coming ages (2:7). The purpose of God’s action in saving us is to demonstrate in the coming ages how rich his grace is; in intervening for us, God shows his own character (cf. Rom. 3:25–26). By its very nature the gospel is a revelation.43 The revelation of God’s character will continue throughout eternity, and the primary evidence of his grace and kindness are the people who have received life in Christ Jesus. We should also remember the expression “to the praise of his glory” in 1:6, 12, and 14. God’s saving work shows who he really is and results in worship, both now and throughout eternity.
Bridging Contexts
AT TIMES BRIDGING contexts is required because of the foreignness of beliefs and practices in an ancient culture, because of the newness of the worldview Christianity brings, or because of the distortion of the beliefs and practices of modern culture, including the modern church culture. Sometimes the bridge has been broken from our side. All three of these gulfs exist in understanding this text.
The main problem in appropriating this passage is for us to take it seriously. For the most part, we do not believe the picture of ourselves is as bad as Paul says. Are the lives we so carefully groom meaningless—a living death—without God in the picture? On the other hand, we find it hard to believe that the facts are as good as Paul says. Does God really love us so deeply and are we actually exalted with Christ in the heavenly realms? The passage is about value and hope: Without God humanity has little of either; with God humanity is given immense hope and lasting value.
Two wrong turns (2:1–3).The process of application must always follow the intent and function of the passage. In doing so, we must avoid wrong turns. (1) The first wrong turn is overreading the text. These verses must be taken for what they are—a dramatic description of the former life, not a full theology of humanity. (2) The second wrong turn is overreacting to the text. The description of the world and of humanity is bleak; consequently, it would be easy to reject the world and all association with unbelievers. But a healthy theology of creation does not allow rejection of humanity or the material world and enjoyment of it. God announced his creation good (Gen. 1), and this assumption is fundamental to Paul’s theology (see 1 Cor. 10:26; 1 Tim. 4:4). “Separation from the world” is not to be taken lightly, but that teaching does not mean disrespect for or distancing ourselves from unbelievers (1 Cor. 5:9–10). The attitude that God’s people take toward unbelievers must mirror the love described in Ephesians 2:4–10.
Can it be this bad? (2:1–3).At first glance Paul’s description of life without Christ appears too harsh. Is everyone as degraded as he suggests? Does not life also have joy and happiness in it? Are there not many good, ethical people for whom this description does not fit? Is everyone destined for God’s wrath? Paul is not denying the value of creation or of humanity created in the image of God. He is not saying all human beings are worthless, nor is his primary concern what will happen on Judgment Day. His concern is to contrast the plight of humanity without God with the privilege of humanity with God and in Christ.
Unfortunately, Paul’s estimate of humanity without God is not unduly harsh. People in both the ancient and modern worlds—even apart from religious conviction—have come to the same conclusion. Some ancient Greeks knew living death so well they coined the proverb Soma sema—“The body is a tomb.” 56 Old Testament passages like Psalm 90, Ecclesiastes, or Isaiah 40:6–8 reveal the same awareness of the brevity and meaninglessness of life apart from God. Religions like Hinduism seek nirvana through escape from this life and its cycle of reincarnation.
If all this sounds too morbid for modern Western culture, we need only to reflect on the evil in our own society, our suicide rate, the enormous problems caused by escapism through alcohol and drugs, and the meaninglessness that challenges all of us as we face injustice, disease, and our own death.57 Death haunts us and is our destiny. If we also remember that fully one billion people live in dire poverty and that war and terrorism afflict the planet, “living death” may be too soft a description.
Ephesians 2:1–3, however, does not merely address the human plight in general terms; it speaks specifically of being dead in trespasses and sins. Sin is the act of choosing our own way and leaving God out of the picture. That is why Paul can say that “everything that does not come from faith is sin” (Rom. 14:23). If God is the giver of life, every act that ignores God is sin. We have tried to find life in ourselves and our own desires, and in the process have cut ourselves off from the Giver of life and have crippled our relations with other people. Death—non-relational by definition—is the result.
But note that this text does not merely address evil sinners—the other people. It addresses all of us. Religious people too can be dead in sins. Remember Jesus’ complaint that the Pharisees were like whitewashed tombs full of dead bones (Matt. 23:27–28). All of us are guilty of living without God. Yes, there is decency and goodness in many people. That too is temporary and meaningless without God and does not alter the fact of universal sinfulness.
A kind of blindness makes appropriation of this text difficult. It says that we live in keeping with the world and its “ruler,” but we are deluded into believing we determine ourselves. We tell ourselves we are not susceptible to peer pressure, that we do what we want, without ever asking what or who determines our wants. All of us are children of our time, and the truth is that our time is geared away from God and towards sin and meaninglessness. Evil is a force that determines us—whether it be the evil in our own self-seeking souls, the evil that grips our self-seeking society, or the evil that the “ruler” seeks to accomplish.
The ruler. Paul’s statement that the “ruler” is at work—apparently to cause disobedience—is not open to empirical investigation. Balance is crucial in this discussion, and care should be taken not to read into the Bible the mythology that has grown up around the devil. The Bible says much less about the devil than some Christians do. Without doubt, Paul believed in a being that fostered evil. Can modern people really believe in such a being? Or can the ancient idea of the devil be reduced to the force of evil in the world?
Walter Wink thinks so. He brackets the ontological question, “Does Satan exist?” in order to deal with the fact and experience of evil.58 He is correct at one level, for all of us must face the reality of evil in the world and in ourselves. His descriptions of Satan are thought-provoking: “the archetypal representation of the collective weight of human fallenness, the symbol of the spirit of an entire society alienated from God”; “the real interiority of a society that idolatrously pursues its own enhancement as the highest good”; and “often experienced as an actual force of evil craving annihilation.”59 On the other hand, the ontological question about the existence of the devil may not be shelved any more than the question of the existence of God. Why is it relatively easy for us to believe in a beneficent being but difficult to believe in a malevolent one?
Questions about the existence of God and the devil are really variations on the questions “Are we alone?” and “Could we get in this human plight by ourselves?” As this relates to God, the issues have to do with creation, its purpose, and the resulting life with God. As it relates to the devil, the issues have to do with human sin and depravity. The Bible points to the tempter (i.e., the devil) for the entrance of sin. By far, however, it stresses human sin—not the devil—as the cause of the difficulty and evil in the world. The devil is only mentioned three times in the Old Testament,60 and while New Testament references are more frequent, the devil’s standing is limited.61 He is not the “marquee player”; most of us do evil well enough by ourselves.
In other words, any overemphasis on the role of the devil is wrong. This passage intends to remind its readers of their former plight, not to magnify the illegitimate ruler. We must recognize a tension in relation to belief in the devil. The more we emphasize the devil, the less we emphasize human depravity. An overemphasis on the devil is a way of overvaluing ourselves so that we escape the blame. In the New Testament the devil is not presented as the problem for which we need a solution. Our own sin and this evil age are. Moreover, to overemphasize the devil is to underemphasize Christ. In effect, this would-be ruler does not deserve our attention—a threat yes, but a minor player.
Many modern Christians give far too much attention and power to the devil, almost as if he were omnipresent. The Bible does not present a cosmological dualism, as if God and the devil were virtual equals wrestling for humanity. Only one supreme being exists—God. The force of this whole passage is to underscore God’s triumph in Christ (1:18–23). Ephesians does recognize another power at work, but not as a threat to God’s purposes or, at least as far as 2:1–3 is concerned, even to Christians (cf. also 4:27; 6:10–20). Fear or anxiety about the devil and his forces does not derive from Scripture, nor does fascination or preoccupation. Obviously balance is required. Paul does see a threat here, but he is more concerned that people have aligned with the ruler of this world than that they will be overpowered by him.
In the end, the blame is not placed on the ruler, but on us. We have chosen to follow our own desires, and our society has reinforced the choice. But rather than bringing satisfaction, it has made us subject to the wrath of God.
Does God get angry? (2:3). The idea of God’s wrath causes problems for us in the twentieth century. It seems theologically unsophisticated and offensive. How can a loving God get angry? Yet in some ways the Bible—from Genesis 3 to the end of Revelation—is the story of the wrath of God, of God’s reaction to disobedience and sin. Is God a doting parent who ignores wrongdoing? In reality, the wrath of God is an essential doctrine. Wrath and judgment are the presupposition of salvation. If God does not have wrath, salvation is not needed.
Careless language about God’s wrath leaves the impression that God is angry at humans, but Christ loves them and gains God’s favor for them by dying on the cross. But the cross does not gain back God’s favor. Rather, God’s favor was the basis of Jesus’ death. Romans 5:8 reminds us that God demonstrated his love in sending Christ, while we were still sinners. No division exists in the Godhead between the Father and the Son or between the wrath of God and the love of God. Love is not the opposite of wrath. As difficult as it may be to conceive, the wrath of God is an expression of his love and deep attachment to his people. Already in the third century, the theologian Lactantius wrote that “he who does not get angry does not care.”62 If God can look at the sin and injustice in this world and not get angry, he is not much of a God! The God of the Bible is not some unmovable, unfeeling force, but a God who cares.
The story of the Bible is the story of God himself taking action to keep his anger from destroying humanity. After the Fall, in the wilderness, with the sacrificial system, with the prophets, in the Exile and Return, and most of all on the cross, God was at work dealing with his own anger and showing mercy.63 Yes, God gets angry. He cares deeply, and his anger is both an expression of his love and the context in which his love is demonstrated.
Can it be this good? (2:4–7).Application of these verses is difficult because they sound too good to be true. Two questions present themselves: (1) Can we seriously believe God loves us? 2) Were we really involved in events that happened to Christ? In both cases appropriation of the message depends on hearing the Word (Rom. 10:17) and on the work of the Holy Spirit.
(1) That God loves and shows mercy is a truism. The problem is that we either take God’s love for granted with no impact on our lives or we reject that God could love someone as sinful and/or insignificant as we are. The good news is that God knows how bad things are, but changes them. Where wrath should have come, mercy comes instead. Awareness of the enormity of the plight helps prevent taking God’s love for granted, but the love of God must be appropriated individually. This is why Paul emphasized the wealth of God’s mercy and love. His resources for loving are not limited, and his love extends even to the least deserving. The Holy Spirit is the one who conveys the love of God to us as we open ourselves to the gospel message (Rom. 5:5).
(2) Possibly the most difficult task of bringing Ephesians into our lives is in understanding how we are involved in events that happened to Christ. How can it possibly be true that what happened to Christ happened (past tense) to us at the same time? We were not even born then, and we are now separated from him by two thousand years, culture, geography, race, and every conceivable reality. Both Jesus and we are individuals. Does that not preclude our being involved in actions specific to him?
Help for understanding these ideas is already in the Old Testament and in Greek thought. The reality we need to grasp in order to feel the force of Paul’s statements is that of living in God. This notion is not entirely new. A psalmist prayed: “Lord, you have been our dwelling place throughout all generations” (Ps. 90:1), and a Greek poet is quoted approvingly by Paul for his statement: “For in him we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28).
The “corporate solidarity” of the Old Testament and Semitic culture provides further background.64 Focus was placed on the oscillation between the individual and community so that what the individual did impacted the community and vice versa. Titles like “son of man,” “servant,” and “son of God” were all corporate terms used of Israel or the remnant as well as of individuals. These titles were taken over by Jesus because of his identification with Israel’s task in God’s purposes. In effect, he became Israel, the Elect One of God (Luke 9:35).
When the early Christians tried to describe Jesus and his work, they did not merely describe him as an individual to whom certain things happened. They saw him as the beginning of a new order, as a new Adam heading up a new race. Consequently, they no longer saw themselves merely as individuals, but as individuals taken up in and involved with Jesus.
Moreover, though the cross and resurrection are historical events, they are not merely historical events. They are also eschatological and inclusive events—the death of death and the firstfruits of the end-time resurrection.65 As R. Tannehill says, “Christ’s death and resurrection are not merely events which produce benefits for the believer but are events in which the believer himself [or herself] participates.”66
Similarly, though Jesus is a historical person, he is not merely a historical person. Rather, he is the one in whom humanity is represented and included. Since this whole new order is embodied in Christ, time is both transcended and maintained. Jesus identified with the plight of humanity and the task of Israel for humanity. He became one with humanity and took on the penalty of sin. In conversion and baptism we identify with Christ’s death and resurrection, and we live out the pattern of death and resurrection in our lives. Christianity is not primarily a religion of ideas, but a religion of participation, of involvement, and of fellowship with God in Christ. Christians are called into fellowship with God’s Son, have been crucified with Christ, have been baptized into his death, have put off the old being and have put on Christ himself, and will be united with him in resurrection (Rom. 6:2–11; 13:14; 1 Cor. 1:9; Gal. 2:19–20; 3:26–27).
But how is this participation to be understood? It cannot be literal, for we were not there when Jesus was crucified. On the other hand, to say it is metaphorical seems to rob it of its force. This language of participation with Christ points to the solidarity we experience with Christ by the grace of God and through faith.67 We are attached to him by faith and partake of him. The Spirit is the one who causes that union with Christ (see 1:13; Rom. 8:1–17; 1 Cor. 12:13).
Our exaltation with Christ in the heavenly realms is merely an extension of this solidarity. This too is a reality, although not literal. It is Paul’s way of saying Jesus is victorious and that his victory—not the human plight—determines who we really are. This is a direct implication of the early Christian confession, “Jesus is Lord.” The emphasis on realized eschatology is strong.
Yes, the gospel is as good as 2:4–7 says. Anything less than the affirmations in 2:4–7 is not the gospel and does not do justice to the God who binds himself to us in Jesus Christ.
The church’s failure with faith (2:8–10). A colossal problem exists in moving from faith as used in this text to faith as understood in the modern world. What pernicious and devious force has so subverted the meaning of the word “faith?” As pointed out above, Paul’s understanding of “faith” includes attachment, union, and solidarity with Christ, whereas in much of the church—including the evangelical church—“faith” means assent, decision, or the teachings one affirms. Whereas in Paul’s thought “faith” is life-changing and productive of good deeds, for much of the church change is desirable with faith, but not necessary, and “not by works” means one does not have to do anything. A decision, the right prayer prayed, is enough to go to heaven. How did faith in Christ get perverted into thought about Christ? How did all the focus get placed on getting into heaven? How did anyone read the New Testament and conclude we do not have to do anything?
Many Christians have reacted against the idea that salvation is some transaction with God to ensure going to heaven.68 Martin Luther and the Reformers, of course, reacted against the excesses of indulgences and the thought that people could gain their access to God by what they did. Much of Paul’s thought, including this passage, is designed to prevent any such idea. But we distort the very idea of faith when we fail to see that it joins us to Christ and affects the whole reality of our lives. The faith that many people profess is nothing more than a false and groundless hope of escaping judgment. We do nothing to gain our salvation and life with God, but such a joining to God does everything to us. To build a bridge from the text to our situation we must recover and proclaim a biblical faith, one that involves us with Christ, effects a new creation in us, and propels us into doing the good things God expects. Faithfulness in Christian living is not an optional part of the faith.
Contemporary Significance
THIS PASSAGE DOES not instruct the readers to do anything; it only states what God has done in Christ. The implications, however, are enormous for what Christians should do and think. Surely proper application of this text starts with speechlessness, then moves to wonder and worship, and finally to obedience and service. The astonishment reflected in the repetition “dead in transgressions” (vv. 1 and 5) and the expansive language describing God’s grace should be confessed. The contrast between the plight of humanity without God and the privilege of humanity with God is remarkable. The salvation and grace described here are the reasons why the letter started in 1:3 with the doxology. Worship—a worship that embraces all of life—is the proper response.
This passage contrasts two ways of living, the former life in sins and the present life in Christ. By implication the text asks, “Where will you live?” What are the defining markers of the path along which we walk and who laid out the path?69 This passage provides a description of reality, as if to say, “This is what life in the world is really like and this is what life with God is really like.” The focus of the text is identity. Who are we and who is God? From knowing who we are, we know how to live. This passage thus reveals the identity of people without God, the identity of people in Christ, and the identity of God.
Geography determines identity: The former life (2:1–3). Who are we? We are all people with a past, a past marked by disobedience and failure, which demonstrates something is very wrong at the core of our being. This is true of all people. None of us can escape the indictment; we are geared to self-seeking and the satisfaction of self-centered cravings, whether we make this obvious or covert in our lives.
We spoke earlier of Paul’s “sense of geography,” referring to his “spheres of influence” theology, which views life as lived either in sin or in Christ.70 That theology is expressed in this text. If one lives in sin, one’s identity is determined by sin, the old world order, and the “ruler of the kingdom of the air.” Such a person is controlled by sinful desires and reasonings and, consequently, lives under the wrath of God.
As a result, this text requires us to take sin more seriously than we usually do. As to the plight of humanity, sins cannot be thought of merely in terms of the individual and choices that one makes. Rather, we must think first of a world order and a power of evil dominating our perspectives and actions. The world in which we live seeks to stamp us with its assumptions and character. Clearly Paul believed people need deliverance from an evil realm or age (cf. Gal. 1:4).
How, for example, did Germany become so pervasively distorted to follow Nazism? Not because German people are more sinful than other people, but because a whole self-seeking order grew up in the chaos after the Depression and deceived millions, including many in the church. Germans were seeking what all of us seek—security, respect, and economic prosperity.
How did the United States become so distorted with racism and the Vietnam war? Why does materialism have such a deep grip on modern society? How do needs become cravings? How does sexual practice become so distorted as to be idolatrous? The good is distorted by a world system that leaves God out of the picture, which is what sin always does. Isaiah’s confession is descriptive of us all: “I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips” (Isa. 6:5). Sin is personal, individual, and corporate, and a consent to a manipulative age without God.
The problem for Christians is that two overlapping realms or ages exist (compare 1:21 and 2:2). Though a new age exists in Christ, the old age is still with us and at work. Which realm will define us? This text attempts to describe what was formerly true (2:2–3), but for many Christians that is still their reality. A break with the past has not really occurred. They are attracted to the glitz and glitter of the world. One can understand that people who do not know God are stranded in a living death, but how can one comprehend Christians who have found life still turning back to death? Christians need to be much more aware that the old order still wants to define who we are. If the desires of Christians are the same as those of non-Christians and if the desires are fulfilled the same way, the gospel is useless.
To live out the implications of this text requires self-analysis and defiance. Christians must always distinguish between life with and without God. Again the focus is on our minds. What belongs to life as God created it and gave for our enjoyment? What belongs to the world as an attempt to find life in one’s self and without God? On first glance the two may look the same—all humans have the same needs and drives—but the two approaches are miles apart. We must distinguish the world that God created from the world that human beings subvert to their own purposes. The former leads to worship of God; the latter leads to the wrath of God. Once we have distinguished God’s order from the old order, we are obligated to defiance, a defiance rooted in the confession “Jesus is Lord.” If Jesus is Lord, sin and the old world order cannot be our geography, and Christians must say a constant “No” to their attempts to define us.
Geography determines identity: Life in and with Christ (2:4–10). A Christian’s self-understanding is found outside the Christian,71 and conversion is a transition to a new identity.72 Our true identity is not determined by personal characteristics, experiences, and abilities, even though those items are important. It is determined by life in and with Jesus Christ. He is the environment that shapes us. Paul felt this so forcefully that he said: “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me” (Gal. 2:20). Specifically, Christ’s death and resurrection are events reproduced in our lives. We die to the old world and its tyrannies of sin and self and rise to life in the Spirit (6:14–15). As important as imitation of Jesus is, identification with Christ is much more important. Our culture will always shape us, but Jesus Christ must be our primary culture.73 That is the force of the “co-resurrection” language.
To be in and with Christ means that ours is no longer an individual identity. We are in solidarity with Christ, or as 5:31 puts it, “we are members of his body.” Life is relational, and our primary relation is with Jesus Christ. So what is this new identity? Because of our attachment to Christ, believers are people about whom it must be said:
(1) They have experienced resurrection. Their living death has been turned into true life.74 They experience salvation as a present reality.
(2) Their new lives are the very creation of God.
(3) Exalted with Christ their Lord, they enjoy unparalleled privilege, honor, and security. They are not held back by fear or vulnerability; rather, they have what they need for life with God.
(4) They experience God’s abundant kindness throughout eternity.
In essence this passage screams out “Get a life!” Too often we have become spectators of life and spend enormous amounts of time on trivialities. Is not the fascination with the lives of the “rich and famous” due to our triviality? Why does our society spend so much time watching talk shows that discuss the banal and bizarre? We need to live out the transition from death to life (2:1–10) by turning from banality to life with Christ.
So why is the identity question so important? An understanding of identity is not some philosophical or theological question for idle musing. It is an understanding of who we are—whether consciously or unconsciously known—and it determines how we live.
Three more wrong turns. Knowledge of our new identity can lead to pride, escapism, and perfectionism. Each of these is a wrong turn in our walk with God. Each is also a variation on the Christian sin of triumphalism. We as Christians must learn to distinguish our legitimate triumph (e.g., Rom. 8:37; 2 Cor. 2:14–3:6) from the arrogant sin of triumphalism.
(1) The privileges we have from God by virtue of our salvation can easily be turned into pharisaic pride and an accompanying disdain for other people who do not know these facts. If we do that, we forget that all our privileges are due to association with Christ, not to ourselves. Pride is as wrong after conversion as before. Worship and obedience are the only proper responses to God’s call.
(2) The ideas of privilege and exaltation with Christ can lead to spiritual escapism, as if to say that because we are exalted with Christ, we need have nothing to do with this world. Nothing could be further from Paul’s mind, as the paraenetic sections show. Paul does not support mystic narcissism or ethical passivity; rather, he promotes new creation and identity with Christ as the shaping factor in our lives. Being in Christ affirms that he gives us our identity and determines who we are. As James Stewart points out, union with Christ is the foundation of Paul’s ethics.75
(3) Texts like this have led some to the delusion of perfectionism. If we are exalted with Christ, should we not be free from all sin? If we are in Christ and he is in us, then should not sin be impossible for us? Again, balance is required. Most of us assume that sin is just a necessary part of life. Our expectations are low in our fight against sin. But Paul’s expectations were high. He was optimistic and fully confident believers would live godly lives. But he did not believe in or hint at perfectionism (see 1 Cor. 13:8–13; Phil. 3:12–16).76 To believe in perfectionism is to forget the now and not yet character of biblical Christianity. We do live in two ages, and the reality of the old age and its impact on us cannot be ignored. Worse, to believe in perfectionism is to be blinded by one’s own spiritual arrogance.
In addition to the wrong turns a caution is in order. This passage presents a picture of radical change in moving from death to life. While this picture is true in reality, not all people experience such a dramatic conversion, nor should they be expected to.77 People who grow up in godly families may not even be able to identify the time of conversion. Some conversions, like Paul’s (Acts 9), are dramatic, other, like Timothy’s (2 Tim. 1:5), are gradual; some are revolutionary, some evolutionary—though in both cases the movement is from death to life, dealing with the same theology of sin.
Eternal security? The theological question concerning eternal security is prompted by the triumphal tone of the text and the emphasis of Ephesians on being “in Christ.” If one is in Christ, can one move out of Christ? If one is seated with Christ in the heavenlies, can that position be lost? It is tempting to assume that the logic behind this text presupposes eternal security. If we have been saved, does that not presuppose eternal security?
Such a conclusion is unfair. In the New Testament salvation is past, present, and future.78 Salvation certainly is enjoyed in the present, and Paul was confident—but not presumptuous—about future judgment. But he is not dealing here with the possibility of apostasy, which the New Testament views as a real threat. Rather, he is describing the privilege of being joined with Christ. Whether that union can be broken has to be addressed from other texts.79
We should ask, however, if the anxiety over eternal security does not emerge from an inadequate view of the gospel, one that fails to do justice to Paul’s theology of union with Christ. A weak view of faith is propped up with overemphasis on “once saved, always saved.” Such preaching has too often resulted in people “making a decision” and not taking faith seriously ever again. Nothing could be further from Paul’s understanding of faith, and no one should proclaim such a gospel.
The identity of God: The persistent, loving God. A modern singer has commented: “I feel that the greatest gift you can give another person or an audience is a revelation of what’s in your heart and soul.”80 God gave just such a gift of self-revelation. In giving his gift of salvation, God revealed a heart and soul full of mercy, love, grace, and kindness. If God has done all this to change our death to life, what a wonderful and loving God he shows himself to be! This section provides a great summary of Paul’s gospel, because it expresses poignantly that God is for us. We can almost hear Romans 8:31–32: “If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son … how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?” To apply this passage is not merely to think about the past or about God in the abstract, but to know the identity of God as God for us. As one person stated, “God takes no action that does not have man as its object.”81 God is the persistent, loving God, rich in mercy and grace.
Over and over in Ephesians Paul reveals God as showering people with grace. He is not the Deist God who sits afar off and waits. He is the active God, who will not stay out of the picture; he is Immanuel—God with us. Such a God brings joy and rejoicing to our lives.
Two more wrong turns. It is easy to presume on the mercy of God and forget God’s judgment and our responsibility. (1) The person who says, “I like committing crimes. God likes forgiving them. Really the world is admirably arranged,”82 is reckless and in danger. (2) At the same time, texts like this one emphasizing the love and activity of God can also easily be twisted into a “health and wealth” theology, as we have already seen. The love of God does not work like magic to remove the problems from the world and put all Christians on easy street. The love of God is present in the midst of problems and difficulty (see Rom. 8:35–39).
Salvation without works. If salvation is a gift of grace, then human beings can do nothing to achieve it. It is God’s work, a gift extended to everyone. Its cause is purely in God’s character, not in the character or conduct of any person. No act or virtue can be presented to God to gain acceptance. But for many grace is so hard to believe or accept. Virtually all our experience tells us that we have to earn acceptance, love, and respect. We spend our lives seeking self-actualization, some act or fact that will give us significance and standing. If we have self-confidence, we see no need to be stripped of all our hard-earned value. Other people are worse than we are, so why shouldn’t God accept us? If we lack self-confidence, we find it hard to think God will accept us under any circumstance. Either way, grace is so hard to take.
But remember that grace is God’s giving us himself. He accepts us without precondition or complaint. We are given significance and standing by our relation to God. We are valued by grace, but the attention is not placed on us, but on the God who loves so deeply. Grace moves us to worship and true humility. If all the initiative comes from God and all the praise belongs to him, no room is left for either pride or self-depreciation.83 But if grace is taken seriously, the focus is moved off ourselves, and pride does not have a leg to stand on. Dealing with grace and pride is, of course, a daily task and part of our ongoing identification with the death of Christ.
Unfortunately, Christians have as hard a time with pride as anyone. We tend to think that grace is only for salvation, and then we have to work to prove ourselves, or that by working we prove ourselves better than others, especially non-Christians. Accomplishment is important, but not to make us more acceptable to God. Furthermore, our good deeds never make us more important than other people. Grace is not just the beginning of Christian life, but the whole. We live in grace (Rom. 5:2) and we are to mirror grace to others. The dynamic that produces salvation is the dynamic by which we live (Gal. 3:3).
A terrible wrong turn. Does not all this lead to “cheap grace” and a do-nothing religion for many people? Unfortunately it has, but this practice distorts the gospel. To think that Paul’s words about grace and faith apart from works could lead to a religion in which people do nothing shows ignorance about the meaning of all three words. For Paul grace is a power that put him to work (1 Cor. 15:10). When he wrote against “works,” he was combating the idea that certain practices—especially Jewish ones—were necessary for people in order to be acceptable to God. Ephesians 2:10 shows salvation is not from works, but it is for good works. God saves people so that they might live productive lives in keeping with what God intended for humanity. With “good works” Paul was not thinking about “do-goodism,” but about a life reflective of God’s love (see chaps. 4–6).
A recovery of the New Testament faith described here will reconfigure the church. Imagine a church in which people knew they were bound to Jesus Christ, lived in union with him, reflected his death and resurrection, and, conscious of their new creation by God, lived productive lives. That is what Paul was describing, and that is what we are called to be.
A faith worth having—and sharing. In these pages I have reacted against a superficial understanding of faith because much of what passes for faith in modern churches is not worth having. It evokes no deep commitment, no deep thought, and no significant change. The faith discussed in 2:4–10 is a faith worth having, for it is relational. The gift it brings ties us to the Giver so that grace becomes a power within us. The gift takes possession of us84 and brings change.
Surely if Ephesians 2:4–10 is the best summary of the gospel, this passage is of primary importance for evangelism. People in the former way cannot be left there missing out on God’s mercy. To know the Giver giving himself creates a contagious joy. The power that creates life from death cannot be hidden. The transformation from 2:1–3 to 2:4–10—if experienced—must be revealed in both word and life.
Often Christians are sure neither how they should do evangelism nor that they want to. Opportunities for evangelism are more likely to cause embarrassment, uncertainty, and guilt than spontaneity, confidence, and love. The reasons for our failure at evangelism are many, including revulsion at the tactics some people use and the illusion that we need to produce decisions from people as quickly as possible. Surely, however, success in evangelism depends on a right understanding of God and his gospel—the focus of 2:1–10. What if people experienced Christians as those joined to the loving Giver? What if they saw grace extended from people who had experienced grace? What if they saw evidence of the movement from disobedience to obedience and from death to life? What if they saw a faith worth having? Evangelism needs to be a conscious activity, but it does not need to be forced. Evangelism should be the natural expression of a life joined to a loving God, the sharing of a faith worth having.
Original Meaning
Further Explanation of Salvation by Grace (2:8–10)
THIS SECTION PROVIDES commentary on the insertion in 2:5 (“it is by grace you have been saved”), repeated in 2:8 but with “through faith” added to show how this salvation is appropriated. This further explanation also shows the relevance salvation has for the readers; note the change to “you.” Two other subjects are introduced in verses 9–10, which will be expanded in later passages—new creation and the ethical impact of God’s work. The combination of ideas makes 2:8–10 one of the most effective summaries of Paul’s gospel of salvation by grace through faith.44
Faith. Romans 1:17 and Galatians 3:11 both show the importance of Habakkuk 2:4 for the origin of Paul’s understanding of “faith,” and an allusion to that Old Testament text is possible here. Up to this point in the letter “faith” and its cognates have served only to identify the readers as believers (1:1, 15, 19) and to indicate their reception of the gospel (1:13). Verse 8 is similar to 1:13, describing the means by which salvation is appropriated. Language is especially important here. Christians are saved by God’s grace, not by their faith. Faith is the only means by which this grace is received. The rest of the letter underscores the importance of faith and its cognates for salvation and life (3:12, 17; 4:5, 13; 6:16, 21, 23).
Faith (pistis) cannot be limited to mental assent or to believing certain ideas. The Greek noun can mean “faith,” “faithfulness,” “reliability,” “promise,” “pledge,” “proof,” “trust,” and “confidence.” In addition, it can be used of the act of believing, the content of what is believed, or as a word that encapsulates all the gospel stands for—in essence, “the faith religion” (cf. Gal. 3:23; Eph. 4:5). The verb pisteuo can mean “trust,” “give credence to,” “be convinced that,” “entrust,” and “have confidence.” Primarily, this word group treats that on which one may rely or the act of relying on something believed reliable. Both sides of the coin are present—relying on something or someone believed reliable. As always, context—not a catalogue of possibilities—determines meaning.
Paul assumes this two-sided nature of faith in his discussions of salvation. Faith is relational, describing reliance on a reliable God. Faith is a covenant word, expressing the commitment and trust that bind two parties together. Throughout Scripture, God by his grace makes promises and commits himself to his people. They in turn are to trust those promises and live in light of them. God shows himself faithful and people are to respond in faithfulness. To say “I have faith” does not so much say anything about oneself; rather it says, “God is a trustworthy God.”45
People who believe do not merely assent to certain ideas; they are bound to God and live in response to him. Paul’s frequent use of phrases such as “with Christ” and “in Christ” show his conviction that faith joins them to Jesus Christ so strongly that they are in him and that what is true of him is true of them. Christ’s past is their past, and he determines their present and future. Faith has an adhesive quality to it;46 it binds the believer to the one who is believed. Salvation does not come from believing ideas or an emotional decision, but from being bound to Christ.
A problem emerges in the middle of verse 8: What is the antecedent of “this” in the statement, “and this not from yourselves.” Though other texts may refer to faith itself as a gift of God (see Acts 3:16; 14:27; 18:27),47 that is not Paul’s point here. The word “this” is neuter, whereas “faith” is a feminine noun. Since there is no neuter noun is in the previous clause as the obvious antecedent of “this,” the word most likely refers to the whole process of God’s saving people by grace. (Note the parallel between “not from yourselves” and “not from works.”) Paul’s point is that salvation is a gift from the trustworthy God, whom we believe.
Works and boasting (2:9). Paul is no longer dealing with the problem of the imposition of the Jewish law on his converts as he was in Romans, Galatians, and—to some degree—in Philippians. In these letters Paul resisted forcefully any grounding of salvation in “works of law.” No doubt behind “not by works” (2:9) stands this longer expression “works of law” from those earlier debates, though its meaning is not limited to the specific “boundary markers” that distinguished Jews from Gentiles (e.g., circumcision, Sabbath keeping, and food laws).48 “Works” refers to any human condition or accomplishment by which one thinks to gain status or privilege before God. In reality, however, nothing we do grants standing before God. Humans in and of themselves have no claim on God.
Boasting is actually a determinative part of Paul’s theology. Much of his concern is to make sure that praise goes only to God. He seeks to destroy any conceivable ground for human beings boasting in themselves. Humanity is left with every mouth silenced and no claim or defense before God.49 The only legitimate boasting is in what God has done (1 Cor. 1:31), a theology Paul adopted from Jeremiah 9:24. This Old Testament text provided a foundation for Paul’s worship, ministry, and self-understanding.50 “Works righteousness” is not a problem the letter addresses, but Paul cannot speak of salvation without excluding the possibility of personal boasting. Such rejection, however, does not entail a rejection of human competence. Rather, it is an insistence that all we are and do comes as a gift of God.
God’s new creation (2:10). Note the switch back to “we.” One obvious reason why no room exists for human boasting is that Paul views salvation as God’s new creation. People do not contribute to their rebirth any more than they did to their natural birth. The emphasis on the activity of God, which began in 1:1, comes to a crescendo here. “We are God’s workmanship” can well be translated, “We are the result of his activity.” Salvation and new life are God’s work, and human beings are recipients, not causative agents. That creation language is used should not be taken lightly (see also 2:15; 4:24). The New Testament assumes that God’s act in Christ is parallel to creation itself.51 This new creation—like everything else in Ephesians—takes place “in Christ Jesus.” The new creation is based in Christ’s resurrection, the creation of life in the midst of death.
Good works prepared beforehand. The purpose of God’s creative activity is not merely to have a people, as if he were constructing a work of art. Rather, this new creation is to be active and productive like the Creator. Christians are “to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do” (contrast to 2:2).52 Salvation is not from works, but it surely is for works, that is, living obediently and productively. In keeping with 1:3–14 on God’s planning, choosing, and acting, this verse shows God planned and acted not only to save, but also to mark out the way we should live. John Stott’s words are not too strong: “Good works are indispensable to salvation—not as its ground or means … but as its consequence and evidence.”53
Paul does not normally speak of “good works.” “Works” has such a negative connotation for him from his debates about works of the law that he rarely uses the plural of this word in a positive sense (elsewhere only in Rom. 2:6, an Old Testament quotation, and in the Pastorals54). When he does use “works” positively, he adds the adjective “good” to prevent misunderstanding.55 No focus on self for reasons of pride is permitted; attention to self to ensure ethical responsibility is required.
Bridging Contexts
AT TIMES BRIDGING contexts is required because of the foreignness of beliefs and practices in an ancient culture, because of the newness of the worldview Christianity brings, or because of the distortion of the beliefs and practices of modern culture, including the modern church culture. Sometimes the bridge has been broken from our side. All three of these gulfs exist in understanding this text.
The main problem in appropriating this passage is for us to take it seriously. For the most part, we do not believe the picture of ourselves is as bad as Paul says. Are the lives we so carefully groom meaningless—a living death—without God in the picture? On the other hand, we find it hard to believe that the facts are as good as Paul says. Does God really love us so deeply and are we actually exalted with Christ in the heavenly realms? The passage is about value and hope: Without God humanity has little of either; with God humanity is given immense hope and lasting value.
Two wrong turns (2:1–3).The process of application must always follow the intent and function of the passage. In doing so, we must avoid wrong turns. (1) The first wrong turn is overreading the text. These verses must be taken for what they are—a dramatic description of the former life, not a full theology of humanity. (2) The second wrong turn is overreacting to the text. The description of the world and of humanity is bleak; consequently, it would be easy to reject the world and all association with unbelievers. But a healthy theology of creation does not allow rejection of humanity or the material world and enjoyment of it. God announced his creation good (Gen. 1), and this assumption is fundamental to Paul’s theology (see 1 Cor. 10:26; 1 Tim. 4:4). “Separation from the world” is not to be taken lightly, but that teaching does not mean disrespect for or distancing ourselves from unbelievers (1 Cor. 5:9–10). The attitude that God’s people take toward unbelievers must mirror the love described in Ephesians 2:4–10.
Can it be this bad? (2:1–3).At first glance Paul’s description of life without Christ appears too harsh. Is everyone as degraded as he suggests? Does not life also have joy and happiness in it? Are there not many good, ethical people for whom this description does not fit? Is everyone destined for God’s wrath? Paul is not denying the value of creation or of humanity created in the image of God. He is not saying all human beings are worthless, nor is his primary concern what will happen on Judgment Day. His concern is to contrast the plight of humanity without God with the privilege of humanity with God and in Christ.
Unfortunately, Paul’s estimate of humanity without God is not unduly harsh. People in both the ancient and modern worlds—even apart from religious conviction—have come to the same conclusion. Some ancient Greeks knew living death so well they coined the proverb Soma sema—“The body is a tomb.” 56 Old Testament passages like Psalm 90, Ecclesiastes, or Isaiah 40:6–8 reveal the same awareness of the brevity and meaninglessness of life apart from God. Religions like Hinduism seek nirvana through escape from this life and its cycle of reincarnation.
If all this sounds too morbid for modern Western culture, we need only to reflect on the evil in our own society, our suicide rate, the enormous problems caused by escapism through alcohol and drugs, and the meaninglessness that challenges all of us as we face injustice, disease, and our own death.57 Death haunts us and is our destiny. If we also remember that fully one billion people live in dire poverty and that war and terrorism afflict the planet, “living death” may be too soft a description.
Ephesians 2:1–3, however, does not merely address the human plight in general terms; it speaks specifically of being dead in trespasses and sins. Sin is the act of choosing our own way and leaving God out of the picture. That is why Paul can say that “everything that does not come from faith is sin” (Rom. 14:23). If God is the giver of life, every act that ignores God is sin. We have tried to find life in ourselves and our own desires, and in the process have cut ourselves off from the Giver of life and have crippled our relations with other people. Death—non-relational by definition—is the result.
But note that this text does not merely address evil sinners—the other people. It addresses all of us. Religious people too can be dead in sins. Remember Jesus’ complaint that the Pharisees were like whitewashed tombs full of dead bones (Matt. 23:27–28). All of us are guilty of living without God. Yes, there is decency and goodness in many people. That too is temporary and meaningless without God and does not alter the fact of universal sinfulness.
A kind of blindness makes appropriation of this text difficult. It says that we live in keeping with the world and its “ruler,” but we are deluded into believing we determine ourselves. We tell ourselves we are not susceptible to peer pressure, that we do what we want, without ever asking what or who determines our wants. All of us are children of our time, and the truth is that our time is geared away from God and towards sin and meaninglessness. Evil is a force that determines us—whether it be the evil in our own self-seeking souls, the evil that grips our self-seeking society, or the evil that the “ruler” seeks to accomplish.
The ruler. Paul’s statement that the “ruler” is at work—apparently to cause disobedience—is not open to empirical investigation. Balance is crucial in this discussion, and care should be taken not to read into the Bible the mythology that has grown up around the devil. The Bible says much less about the devil than some Christians do. Without doubt, Paul believed in a being that fostered evil. Can modern people really believe in such a being? Or can the ancient idea of the devil be reduced to the force of evil in the world?
Walter Wink thinks so. He brackets the ontological question, “Does Satan exist?” in order to deal with the fact and experience of evil.58 He is correct at one level, for all of us must face the reality of evil in the world and in ourselves. His descriptions of Satan are thought-provoking: “the archetypal representation of the collective weight of human fallenness, the symbol of the spirit of an entire society alienated from God”; “the real interiority of a society that idolatrously pursues its own enhancement as the highest good”; and “often experienced as an actual force of evil craving annihilation.”59 On the other hand, the ontological question about the existence of the devil may not be shelved any more than the question of the existence of God. Why is it relatively easy for us to believe in a beneficent being but difficult to believe in a malevolent one?
Questions about the existence of God and the devil are really variations on the questions “Are we alone?” and “Could we get in this human plight by ourselves?” As this relates to God, the issues have to do with creation, its purpose, and the resulting life with God. As it relates to the devil, the issues have to do with human sin and depravity. The Bible points to the tempter (i.e., the devil) for the entrance of sin. By far, however, it stresses human sin—not the devil—as the cause of the difficulty and evil in the world. The devil is only mentioned three times in the Old Testament,60 and while New Testament references are more frequent, the devil’s standing is limited.61 He is not the “marquee player”; most of us do evil well enough by ourselves.
In other words, any overemphasis on the role of the devil is wrong. This passage intends to remind its readers of their former plight, not to magnify the illegitimate ruler. We must recognize a tension in relation to belief in the devil. The more we emphasize the devil, the less we emphasize human depravity. An overemphasis on the devil is a way of overvaluing ourselves so that we escape the blame. In the New Testament the devil is not presented as the problem for which we need a solution. Our own sin and this evil age are. Moreover, to overemphasize the devil is to underemphasize Christ. In effect, this would-be ruler does not deserve our attention—a threat yes, but a minor player.
Many modern Christians give far too much attention and power to the devil, almost as if he were omnipresent. The Bible does not present a cosmological dualism, as if God and the devil were virtual equals wrestling for humanity. Only one supreme being exists—God. The force of this whole passage is to underscore God’s triumph in Christ (1:18–23). Ephesians does recognize another power at work, but not as a threat to God’s purposes or, at least as far as 2:1–3 is concerned, even to Christians (cf. also 4:27; 6:10–20). Fear or anxiety about the devil and his forces does not derive from Scripture, nor does fascination or preoccupation. Obviously balance is required. Paul does see a threat here, but he is more concerned that people have aligned with the ruler of this world than that they will be overpowered by him.
In the end, the blame is not placed on the ruler, but on us. We have chosen to follow our own desires, and our society has reinforced the choice. But rather than bringing satisfaction, it has made us subject to the wrath of God.
Does God get angry? (2:3). The idea of God’s wrath causes problems for us in the twentieth century. It seems theologically unsophisticated and offensive. How can a loving God get angry? Yet in some ways the Bible—from Genesis 3 to the end of Revelation—is the story of the wrath of God, of God’s reaction to disobedience and sin. Is God a doting parent who ignores wrongdoing? In reality, the wrath of God is an essential doctrine. Wrath and judgment are the presupposition of salvation. If God does not have wrath, salvation is not needed.
Careless language about God’s wrath leaves the impression that God is angry at humans, but Christ loves them and gains God’s favor for them by dying on the cross. But the cross does not gain back God’s favor. Rather, God’s favor was the basis of Jesus’ death. Romans 5:8 reminds us that God demonstrated his love in sending Christ, while we were still sinners. No division exists in the Godhead between the Father and the Son or between the wrath of God and the love of God. Love is not the opposite of wrath. As difficult as it may be to conceive, the wrath of God is an expression of his love and deep attachment to his people. Already in the third century, the theologian Lactantius wrote that “he who does not get angry does not care.”62 If God can look at the sin and injustice in this world and not get angry, he is not much of a God! The God of the Bible is not some unmovable, unfeeling force, but a God who cares.
The story of the Bible is the story of God himself taking action to keep his anger from destroying humanity. After the Fall, in the wilderness, with the sacrificial system, with the prophets, in the Exile and Return, and most of all on the cross, God was at work dealing with his own anger and showing mercy.63 Yes, God gets angry. He cares deeply, and his anger is both an expression of his love and the context in which his love is demonstrated.
Can it be this good? (2:4–7).Application of these verses is difficult because they sound too good to be true. Two questions present themselves: (1) Can we seriously believe God loves us? 2) Were we really involved in events that happened to Christ? In both cases appropriation of the message depends on hearing the Word (Rom. 10:17) and on the work of the Holy Spirit.
(1) That God loves and shows mercy is a truism. The problem is that we either take God’s love for granted with no impact on our lives or we reject that God could love someone as sinful and/or insignificant as we are. The good news is that God knows how bad things are, but changes them. Where wrath should have come, mercy comes instead. Awareness of the enormity of the plight helps prevent taking God’s love for granted, but the love of God must be appropriated individually. This is why Paul emphasized the wealth of God’s mercy and love. His resources for loving are not limited, and his love extends even to the least deserving. The Holy Spirit is the one who conveys the love of God to us as we open ourselves to the gospel message (Rom. 5:5).
(2) Possibly the most difficult task of bringing Ephesians into our lives is in understanding how we are involved in events that happened to Christ. How can it possibly be true that what happened to Christ happened (past tense) to us at the same time? We were not even born then, and we are now separated from him by two thousand years, culture, geography, race, and every conceivable reality. Both Jesus and we are individuals. Does that not preclude our being involved in actions specific to him?
Help for understanding these ideas is already in the Old Testament and in Greek thought. The reality we need to grasp in order to feel the force of Paul’s statements is that of living in God. This notion is not entirely new. A psalmist prayed: “Lord, you have been our dwelling place throughout all generations” (Ps. 90:1), and a Greek poet is quoted approvingly by Paul for his statement: “For in him we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28).
The “corporate solidarity” of the Old Testament and Semitic culture provides further background.64 Focus was placed on the oscillation between the individual and community so that what the individual did impacted the community and vice versa. Titles like “son of man,” “servant,” and “son of God” were all corporate terms used of Israel or the remnant as well as of individuals. These titles were taken over by Jesus because of his identification with Israel’s task in God’s purposes. In effect, he became Israel, the Elect One of God (Luke 9:35).
When the early Christians tried to describe Jesus and his work, they did not merely describe him as an individual to whom certain things happened. They saw him as the beginning of a new order, as a new Adam heading up a new race. Consequently, they no longer saw themselves merely as individuals, but as individuals taken up in and involved with Jesus.
Moreover, though the cross and resurrection are historical events, they are not merely historical events. They are also eschatological and inclusive events—the death of death and the firstfruits of the end-time resurrection.65 As R. Tannehill says, “Christ’s death and resurrection are not merely events which produce benefits for the believer but are events in which the believer himself [or herself] participates.”66
Similarly, though Jesus is a historical person, he is not merely a historical person. Rather, he is the one in whom humanity is represented and included. Since this whole new order is embodied in Christ, time is both transcended and maintained. Jesus identified with the plight of humanity and the task of Israel for humanity. He became one with humanity and took on the penalty of sin. In conversion and baptism we identify with Christ’s death and resurrection, and we live out the pattern of death and resurrection in our lives. Christianity is not primarily a religion of ideas, but a religion of participation, of involvement, and of fellowship with God in Christ. Christians are called into fellowship with God’s Son, have been crucified with Christ, have been baptized into his death, have put off the old being and have put on Christ himself, and will be united with him in resurrection (Rom. 6:2–11; 13:14; 1 Cor. 1:9; Gal. 2:19–20; 3:26–27).
But how is this participation to be understood? It cannot be literal, for we were not there when Jesus was crucified. On the other hand, to say it is metaphorical seems to rob it of its force. This language of participation with Christ points to the solidarity we experience with Christ by the grace of God and through faith.67 We are attached to him by faith and partake of him. The Spirit is the one who causes that union with Christ (see 1:13; Rom. 8:1–17; 1 Cor. 12:13).
Our exaltation with Christ in the heavenly realms is merely an extension of this solidarity. This too is a reality, although not literal. It is Paul’s way of saying Jesus is victorious and that his victory—not the human plight—determines who we really are. This is a direct implication of the early Christian confession, “Jesus is Lord.” The emphasis on realized eschatology is strong.
Yes, the gospel is as good as 2:4–7 says. Anything less than the affirmations in 2:4–7 is not the gospel and does not do justice to the God who binds himself to us in Jesus Christ.
The church’s failure with faith (2:8–10). A colossal problem exists in moving from faith as used in this text to faith as understood in the modern world. What pernicious and devious force has so subverted the meaning of the word “faith?” As pointed out above, Paul’s understanding of “faith” includes attachment, union, and solidarity with Christ, whereas in much of the church—including the evangelical church—“faith” means assent, decision, or the teachings one affirms. Whereas in Paul’s thought “faith” is life-changing and productive of good deeds, for much of the church change is desirable with faith, but not necessary, and “not by works” means one does not have to do anything. A decision, the right prayer prayed, is enough to go to heaven. How did faith in Christ get perverted into thought about Christ? How did all the focus get placed on getting into heaven? How did anyone read the New Testament and conclude we do not have to do anything?
Many Christians have reacted against the idea that salvation is some transaction with God to ensure going to heaven.68 Martin Luther and the Reformers, of course, reacted against the excesses of indulgences and the thought that people could gain their access to God by what they did. Much of Paul’s thought, including this passage, is designed to prevent any such idea. But we distort the very idea of faith when we fail to see that it joins us to Christ and affects the whole reality of our lives. The faith that many people profess is nothing more than a false and groundless hope of escaping judgment. We do nothing to gain our salvation and life with God, but such a joining to God does everything to us. To build a bridge from the text to our situation we must recover and proclaim a biblical faith, one that involves us with Christ, effects a new creation in us, and propels us into doing the good things God expects. Faithfulness in Christian living is not an optional part of the faith.
Contemporary Significance
THIS PASSAGE DOES not instruct the readers to do anything; it only states what God has done in Christ. The implications, however, are enormous for what Christians should do and think. Surely proper application of this text starts with speechlessness, then moves to wonder and worship, and finally to obedience and service. The astonishment reflected in the repetition “dead in transgressions” (vv. 1 and 5) and the expansive language describing God’s grace should be confessed. The contrast between the plight of humanity without God and the privilege of humanity with God is remarkable. The salvation and grace described here are the reasons why the letter started in 1:3 with the doxology. Worship—a worship that embraces all of life—is the proper response.
This passage contrasts two ways of living, the former life in sins and the present life in Christ. By implication the text asks, “Where will you live?” What are the defining markers of the path along which we walk and who laid out the path?69 This passage provides a description of reality, as if to say, “This is what life in the world is really like and this is what life with God is really like.” The focus of the text is identity. Who are we and who is God? From knowing who we are, we know how to live. This passage thus reveals the identity of people without God, the identity of people in Christ, and the identity of God.
Geography determines identity: The former life (2:1–3). Who are we? We are all people with a past, a past marked by disobedience and failure, which demonstrates something is very wrong at the core of our being. This is true of all people. None of us can escape the indictment; we are geared to self-seeking and the satisfaction of self-centered cravings, whether we make this obvious or covert in our lives.
We spoke earlier of Paul’s “sense of geography,” referring to his “spheres of influence” theology, which views life as lived either in sin or in Christ.70 That theology is expressed in this text. If one lives in sin, one’s identity is determined by sin, the old world order, and the “ruler of the kingdom of the air.” Such a person is controlled by sinful desires and reasonings and, consequently, lives under the wrath of God.
As a result, this text requires us to take sin more seriously than we usually do. As to the plight of humanity, sins cannot be thought of merely in terms of the individual and choices that one makes. Rather, we must think first of a world order and a power of evil dominating our perspectives and actions. The world in which we live seeks to stamp us with its assumptions and character. Clearly Paul believed people need deliverance from an evil realm or age (cf. Gal. 1:4).
How, for example, did Germany become so pervasively distorted to follow Nazism? Not because German people are more sinful than other people, but because a whole self-seeking order grew up in the chaos after the Depression and deceived millions, including many in the church. Germans were seeking what all of us seek—security, respect, and economic prosperity.
How did the United States become so distorted with racism and the Vietnam war? Why does materialism have such a deep grip on modern society? How do needs become cravings? How does sexual practice become so distorted as to be idolatrous? The good is distorted by a world system that leaves God out of the picture, which is what sin always does. Isaiah’s confession is descriptive of us all: “I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips” (Isa. 6:5). Sin is personal, individual, and corporate, and a consent to a manipulative age without God.
The problem for Christians is that two overlapping realms or ages exist (compare 1:21 and 2:2). Though a new age exists in Christ, the old age is still with us and at work. Which realm will define us? This text attempts to describe what was formerly true (2:2–3), but for many Christians that is still their reality. A break with the past has not really occurred. They are attracted to the glitz and glitter of the world. One can understand that people who do not know God are stranded in a living death, but how can one comprehend Christians who have found life still turning back to death? Christians need to be much more aware that the old order still wants to define who we are. If the desires of Christians are the same as those of non-Christians and if the desires are fulfilled the same way, the gospel is useless.
To live out the implications of this text requires self-analysis and defiance. Christians must always distinguish between life with and without God. Again the focus is on our minds. What belongs to life as God created it and gave for our enjoyment? What belongs to the world as an attempt to find life in one’s self and without God? On first glance the two may look the same—all humans have the same needs and drives—but the two approaches are miles apart. We must distinguish the world that God created from the world that human beings subvert to their own purposes. The former leads to worship of God; the latter leads to the wrath of God. Once we have distinguished God’s order from the old order, we are obligated to defiance, a defiance rooted in the confession “Jesus is Lord.” If Jesus is Lord, sin and the old world order cannot be our geography, and Christians must say a constant “No” to their attempts to define us.
Geography determines identity: Life in and with Christ (2:4–10). A Christian’s self-understanding is found outside the Christian,71 and conversion is a transition to a new identity.72 Our true identity is not determined by personal characteristics, experiences, and abilities, even though those items are important. It is determined by life in and with Jesus Christ. He is the environment that shapes us. Paul felt this so forcefully that he said: “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me” (Gal. 2:20). Specifically, Christ’s death and resurrection are events reproduced in our lives. We die to the old world and its tyrannies of sin and self and rise to life in the Spirit (6:14–15). As important as imitation of Jesus is, identification with Christ is much more important. Our culture will always shape us, but Jesus Christ must be our primary culture.73 That is the force of the “co-resurrection” language.
To be in and with Christ means that ours is no longer an individual identity. We are in solidarity with Christ, or as 5:31 puts it, “we are members of his body.” Life is relational, and our primary relation is with Jesus Christ. So what is this new identity? Because of our attachment to Christ, believers are people about whom it must be said:
(1) They have experienced resurrection. Their living death has been turned into true life.74 They experience salvation as a present reality.
(2) Their new lives are the very creation of God.
(3) Exalted with Christ their Lord, they enjoy unparalleled privilege, honor, and security. They are not held back by fear or vulnerability; rather, they have what they need for life with God.
(4) They experience God’s abundant kindness throughout eternity.
In essence this passage screams out “Get a life!” Too often we have become spectators of life and spend enormous amounts of time on trivialities. Is not the fascination with the lives of the “rich and famous” due to our triviality? Why does our society spend so much time watching talk shows that discuss the banal and bizarre? We need to live out the transition from death to life (2:1–10) by turning from banality to life with Christ.
So why is the identity question so important? An understanding of identity is not some philosophical or theological question for idle musing. It is an understanding of who we are—whether consciously or unconsciously known—and it determines how we live.
Three more wrong turns. Knowledge of our new identity can lead to pride, escapism, and perfectionism. Each of these is a wrong turn in our walk with God. Each is also a variation on the Christian sin of triumphalism. We as Christians must learn to distinguish our legitimate triumph (e.g., Rom. 8:37; 2 Cor. 2:14–3:6) from the arrogant sin of triumphalism.
(1) The privileges we have from God by virtue of our salvation can easily be turned into pharisaic pride and an accompanying disdain for other people who do not know these facts. If we do that, we forget that all our privileges are due to association with Christ, not to ourselves. Pride is as wrong after conversion as before. Worship and obedience are the only proper responses to God’s call.
(2) The ideas of privilege and exaltation with Christ can lead to spiritual escapism, as if to say that because we are exalted with Christ, we need have nothing to do with this world. Nothing could be further from Paul’s mind, as the paraenetic sections show. Paul does not support mystic narcissism or ethical passivity; rather, he promotes new creation and identity with Christ as the shaping factor in our lives. Being in Christ affirms that he gives us our identity and determines who we are. As James Stewart points out, union with Christ is the foundation of Paul’s ethics.75
(3) Texts like this have led some to the delusion of perfectionism. If we are exalted with Christ, should we not be free from all sin? If we are in Christ and he is in us, then should not sin be impossible for us? Again, balance is required. Most of us assume that sin is just a necessary part of life. Our expectations are low in our fight against sin. But Paul’s expectations were high. He was optimistic and fully confident believers would live godly lives. But he did not believe in or hint at perfectionism (see 1 Cor. 13:8–13; Phil. 3:12–16).76 To believe in perfectionism is to forget the now and not yet character of biblical Christianity. We do live in two ages, and the reality of the old age and its impact on us cannot be ignored. Worse, to believe in perfectionism is to be blinded by one’s own spiritual arrogance.
In addition to the wrong turns a caution is in order. This passage presents a picture of radical change in moving from death to life. While this picture is true in reality, not all people experience such a dramatic conversion, nor should they be expected to.77 People who grow up in godly families may not even be able to identify the time of conversion. Some conversions, like Paul’s (Acts 9), are dramatic, other, like Timothy’s (2 Tim. 1:5), are gradual; some are revolutionary, some evolutionary—though in both cases the movement is from death to life, dealing with the same theology of sin.
Eternal security? The theological question concerning eternal security is prompted by the triumphal tone of the text and the emphasis of Ephesians on being “in Christ.” If one is in Christ, can one move out of Christ? If one is seated with Christ in the heavenlies, can that position be lost? It is tempting to assume that the logic behind this text presupposes eternal security. If we have been saved, does that not presuppose eternal security?
Such a conclusion is unfair. In the New Testament salvation is past, present, and future.78 Salvation certainly is enjoyed in the present, and Paul was confident—but not presumptuous—about future judgment. But he is not dealing here with the possibility of apostasy, which the New Testament views as a real threat. Rather, he is describing the privilege of being joined with Christ. Whether that union can be broken has to be addressed from other texts.79
We should ask, however, if the anxiety over eternal security does not emerge from an inadequate view of the gospel, one that fails to do justice to Paul’s theology of union with Christ. A weak view of faith is propped up with overemphasis on “once saved, always saved.” Such preaching has too often resulted in people “making a decision” and not taking faith seriously ever again. Nothing could be further from Paul’s understanding of faith, and no one should proclaim such a gospel.
The identity of God: The persistent, loving God. A modern singer has commented: “I feel that the greatest gift you can give another person or an audience is a revelation of what’s in your heart and soul.”80 God gave just such a gift of self-revelation. In giving his gift of salvation, God revealed a heart and soul full of mercy, love, grace, and kindness. If God has done all this to change our death to life, what a wonderful and loving God he shows himself to be! This section provides a great summary of Paul’s gospel, because it expresses poignantly that God is for us. We can almost hear Romans 8:31–32: “If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son … how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?” To apply this passage is not merely to think about the past or about God in the abstract, but to know the identity of God as God for us. As one person stated, “God takes no action that does not have man as its object.”81 God is the persistent, loving God, rich in mercy and grace.
Over and over in Ephesians Paul reveals God as showering people with grace. He is not the Deist God who sits afar off and waits. He is the active God, who will not stay out of the picture; he is Immanuel—God with us. Such a God brings joy and rejoicing to our lives.
Two more wrong turns. It is easy to presume on the mercy of God and forget God’s judgment and our responsibility. (1) The person who says, “I like committing crimes. God likes forgiving them. Really the world is admirably arranged,”82 is reckless and in danger. (2) At the same time, texts like this one emphasizing the love and activity of God can also easily be twisted into a “health and wealth” theology, as we have already seen. The love of God does not work like magic to remove the problems from the world and put all Christians on easy street. The love of God is present in the midst of problems and difficulty (see Rom. 8:35–39).
Salvation without works. If salvation is a gift of grace, then human beings can do nothing to achieve it. It is God’s work, a gift extended to everyone. Its cause is purely in God’s character, not in the character or conduct of any person. No act or virtue can be presented to God to gain acceptance. But for many grace is so hard to believe or accept. Virtually all our experience tells us that we have to earn acceptance, love, and respect. We spend our lives seeking self-actualization, some act or fact that will give us significance and standing. If we have self-confidence, we see no need to be stripped of all our hard-earned value. Other people are worse than we are, so why shouldn’t God accept us? If we lack self-confidence, we find it hard to think God will accept us under any circumstance. Either way, grace is so hard to take.
But remember that grace is God’s giving us himself. He accepts us without precondition or complaint. We are given significance and standing by our relation to God. We are valued by grace, but the attention is not placed on us, but on the God who loves so deeply. Grace moves us to worship and true humility. If all the initiative comes from God and all the praise belongs to him, no room is left for either pride or self-depreciation.83 But if grace is taken seriously, the focus is moved off ourselves, and pride does not have a leg to stand on. Dealing with grace and pride is, of course, a daily task and part of our ongoing identification with the death of Christ.
Unfortunately, Christians have as hard a time with pride as anyone. We tend to think that grace is only for salvation, and then we have to work to prove ourselves, or that by working we prove ourselves better than others, especially non-Christians. Accomplishment is important, but not to make us more acceptable to God. Furthermore, our good deeds never make us more important than other people. Grace is not just the beginning of Christian life, but the whole. We live in grace (Rom. 5:2) and we are to mirror grace to others. The dynamic that produces salvation is the dynamic by which we live (Gal. 3:3).
A terrible wrong turn. Does not all this lead to “cheap grace” and a do-nothing religion for many people? Unfortunately it has, but this practice distorts the gospel. To think that Paul’s words about grace and faith apart from works could lead to a religion in which people do nothing shows ignorance about the meaning of all three words. For Paul grace is a power that put him to work (1 Cor. 15:10). When he wrote against “works,” he was combating the idea that certain practices—especially Jewish ones—were necessary for people in order to be acceptable to God. Ephesians 2:10 shows salvation is not from works, but it is for good works. God saves people so that they might live productive lives in keeping with what God intended for humanity. With “good works” Paul was not thinking about “do-goodism,” but about a life reflective of God’s love (see chaps. 4–6).
A recovery of the New Testament faith described here will reconfigure the church. Imagine a church in which people knew they were bound to Jesus Christ, lived in union with him, reflected his death and resurrection, and, conscious of their new creation by God, lived productive lives. That is what Paul was describing, and that is what we are called to be.
A faith worth having—and sharing. In these pages I have reacted against a superficial understanding of faith because much of what passes for faith in modern churches is not worth having. It evokes no deep commitment, no deep thought, and no significant change. The faith discussed in 2:4–10 is a faith worth having, for it is relational. The gift it brings ties us to the Giver so that grace becomes a power within us. The gift takes possession of us84 and brings change.
Surely if Ephesians 2:4–10 is the best summary of the gospel, this passage is of primary importance for evangelism. People in the former way cannot be left there missing out on God’s mercy. To know the Giver giving himself creates a contagious joy. The power that creates life from death cannot be hidden. The transformation from 2:1–3 to 2:4–10—if experienced—must be revealed in both word and life.
Often Christians are sure neither how they should do evangelism nor that they want to. Opportunities for evangelism are more likely to cause embarrassment, uncertainty, and guilt than spontaneity, confidence, and love. The reasons for our failure at evangelism are many, including revulsion at the tactics some people use and the illusion that we need to produce decisions from people as quickly as possible. Surely, however, success in evangelism depends on a right understanding of God and his gospel—the focus of 2:1–10. What if people experienced Christians as those joined to the loving Giver? What if they saw grace extended from people who had experienced grace? What if they saw evidence of the movement from disobedience to obedience and from death to life? What if they saw a faith worth having? Evangelism needs to be a conscious activity, but it does not need to be forced. Evangelism should be the natural expression of a life joined to a loving God, the sharing of a faith worth having.