← Contents Ephesians 2:11–22

Ephesians 2:11–22

THEREFORE, REMEMBER THAT formerly you who are Gentiles by birth and called “uncircumcised” by those who call themselves “the circumcision” (that done in the body by the hands of men)—12remember that at that time you were separate from Christ, excluded from citizenship in Israel and foreigners to the covenants of the promise, without hope and without God in the world. 13But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far away have been brought near through the blood of Christ.

14For he himself is our peace, who has made the two one and has destroyed the barrier, the dividing wall of hostility, 15by abolishing in his flesh the law with its commandments and regulations. His purpose was to create in himself one new man out of the two, thus making peace, 16and in this one body to reconcile both of them to God through the cross, by which he put to death their hostility. 17He came and preached peace to you who were far away and peace to those who were near. 18For through him we both have access to the Father by one Spirit.

19Consequently, you are no longer foreigners and aliens, but fellow citizens with God’s people and members of God’s household, 20built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the chief cornerstone. 21In him the whole building is joined together and rises to become a holy temple in the Lord. 22And in him you too are being built together to become a dwelling in which God lives by his Spirit.

Original Meaning

Distance From God Until Made Near in Christ (2:11–13)

THE REAL REASON for the “formerly-now” contrasts in Ephesians is made clear. Paul wants his readers to remember the change effected by Christ. The command “remember” in 2:11 is the only imperative in chapters 1–3. This remembering covers all the material in verses 11–13, not merely the former life. Continual awareness9 of what they were and what they have now become will enrich both their thanks to God and their obedience.

The former plight (2:11–12). Verses 11–12 focus on the deprivation and distance of the former life. As indicated above, “by birth” and “in the body” in the NIV translate en sarki (“in the flesh”). Exactly what nuance to put on this phrase is debated. The difficulty comes because of the remarkably complex ways in which Paul uses the Greek word sarx (“flesh”). “Sinful nature” (a common meaning for sarx in Paul) is not the intended meaning in 2:11 for either Gentiles or Jews. On the other hand, more is implied than mere physical origin and physical circumcision. When Paul uses sarx, he often points to the frailty of humanity apart from God. Here, therefore, the word refers to the merely human realm in which people live in contrast to life in the Spirit or in Christ, so that the connotation is more pejorative than the NIV suggests. Paul wants his readers to remember that they were Gentiles, confined to that which is weak and merely human, being bad-mouthed by Jews, who labeled them “the uncircumcision” and themselves “the circumcision.” But, as we will see, the Jews were no better off; they too needed the gospel.

The labels “the uncircumcision” and “the circumcision” were common Jewish ways of referring to Gentiles and Jews respectively.10 The former expressed disdain for the nonelect and disobedient, while the latter was a title of honor and privilege for those belonging to God’s covenant. In Philippians 3:2–3 Paul even co-opts “the circumcision” as a title of honor for his Gentile Christian friends, and via a wordplay,11 refers to the Jews as “the mutilation.” The disdain of Jews for Gentiles and the corresponding disdain of Gentiles for Jews is well attested in the ancient world.12

Although the Jews were bad-mouthing the Gentiles as “the uncircumcision,” in Paul’s mind Jews were no better off, for the circumcision in which they boasted was a mere human circumcision. They too were “in the flesh.” They lived in the same realm as the Gentiles, even with their circumcision. “By the hands of men” stresses the human origin of their circumcision; God was not involved.13

Verse 12 describes five elements in which the Gentiles were deprived, disconnected, and distant:14

(1) They had no relation to Christ; this contrasts with their present position in Christ.15

(2) They were “excluded from citizenship in Israel.” Does “Israel” refer to historic Israel, spiritual Israel, or Jewish Christians? Probably Paul thought generally of exclusion from God’s people; that is, the Gentiles had no part in God’s purposes with Israel.

(3) They were “foreigners to the covenants of the promise.” This phrase emphasizes the same distance and disconnection as “excluded.” Precisely which covenants Paul has in mind is not clear. Surely the covenants with Abraham and David are included, and likely also the promise of the new covenant in Jeremiah 31:31–34. No doubt for Paul the “covenants of promise” focused primarily on the Messiah and the Holy Spirit, the means by which the covenants with Abraham, David, and Jeremiah were fulfilled (see 2 Cor. 3:3–18; Gal. 3:14).

(4) They were “without hope.” They had no hope of escaping the human plight and could not anticipate any relief (cf. 1 Thess. 4:13).

(5) They were “without God.” This does not mean they were atheists (although the word can be used this way), nor that they did not have gods (ancient Gentiles had plenty of gods). Rather, they did not have God (cf. Acts 17:23). In addition to being in the flesh, these Gentiles were “in the world” (a pejorative term that picks up the meaning of “world” in 2:2). The sphere in which they lived was isolated from God and what he was doing.

God’s solution to the human plight (2:13). If the plight was estrangement and distance, the solution is nearness and belonging. In 2:4–10 God’s grace is described as overcoming our plight of sin and establishing us in the heavenly realms with Christ. In this text the blood of Christ brings people in Christ near to God. Since Paul’s “spheres of influence” theology dominates the first two chapters of Ephesians, it is not surprising to see the solution presented in such terms. The formerly distant Gentiles have been brought near to God in Christ. Who was the agent in the process? Either Christ himself (see 2:14–18) or possibly God (if the passive verb “have been brought near” is a “divine” passive, describing actions that God has performed).

It is no afterthought that Gentiles are now included in God’s purposes. This theme may be secondary in the Old Testament, but it is there. God’s covenant with Abraham had in view the blessing of the Gentiles (Gen. 12:2–3), the prophets anticipate the day when Gentiles will stream to worship God in Jerusalem (esp. Isa. 2:2–4; 56:6–7; Jer. 3:17), and the Psalms assume all the nations should worship God (Pss. 22:27; 86:9; 117:1; 148:11). In Paul’s understanding of the gospel, what had been secondary—the inclusion of the Gentiles—has now become primary. Frequently Paul uses “now” to mark off the newness of what God has done in Christ and the present conditions that result. In doing so he points to the eschatological character of God’s work and to the breaking in of the new age in the midst of the old.16

The language of “far” and “near” is derived from Isaiah 57:19 (quoted in Eph. 2:17). “You who once were far away” refers to Gentiles who have been brought near in Christ. The terms far and near in Isaiah 57:19 both refer to Jews during the Exile, but later Jewish interpreters sometimes understood this text of proselytes.17 If this interpretation was prevalent in the first century, the step from understanding the text of proselytes to Gentiles would have been easy.18

Sacrificial ideas are present in the thought that “the blood of Christ” brings people near. This phrase focuses on life violently taken.19 Sacrifice is not the only conceptual mode by which salvation is understood, but no one can deny that sacrifice is a necessary and important part of New Testament thinking on salvation (see 5:2). The implication of the sacrificial language is that Christ has died for us, which means both he died in our place and for our benefit.20

In sum, the human plight is caused by separation from God. Life comes from him and is to be enjoyed in his presence. The only solution to the plight, then, is proximity to God, and Christ is the one who takes us there.

Bridging Contexts

A MAJOR ASSUMPTION in applying Scripture is that people in the ancient world were essentially the same as we are. We see the continuity from one generation to another, and we see ourselves in the text. This commonality is what makes it possible for us to take an ancient text and bring it into our context, recognizing, of course, differences between their world and ours.

Should we remember or forget? Ephesians 2:11 is unique in the New Testament, for it is the only text that explicitly tells us to remember our former plight. How does this message fit with Philippians 3:13–14, which tells us to forget what is behind? Actually, both texts have the same concern—a life shaped by Christ. Philippians emphasizes Christ as the focus and goal that determines all we do. In 3:5–11, however, Paul does the same thing he asks in Ephesians 2:11: He remembers his past and the reordering of his life to gain Christ. In Ephesians he not only wants people to remember their former plight, but also what they have become.

Memory is a wonderful gift from God that enables life; without it true living is virtually impossible. Remembering structures our minds to live for God. It frames our identity and sets us on course for life in Christ. We need to remember sin, for part of sin’s delusion is that it keeps us unaware of sin. We need also to remember the biblical stories and the content of the faith. In the Lord’s Supper we remember Christ’s death and resurrection, and we remember the change worked within us. Remembering is a way to deal with our pride and self-sufficiency and also to keep connected to God.

Old problems in new dress. The mention of circumcision, uncircumcision, blood, and Israel all seem foreign—if not barbaric—and are of little obvious relevance for us. But the problems described continue to be deeply rooted human problems that vex us all: alienation, division, name-calling, separation from God and his purposes, and hopelessness. As long as these problems continue, people will know loneliness, fracture, lack of trust, and discouragement. Note the description of sin as alienation, fracture, and purposelessness (2:11–12). From these problems come a host of other sins, such as envy, hatred, lying, conflict, abuse, murder, and war.

Note too how the problem of alienation was rooted in religious privilege. The text both assumes the legitimacy of Israel’s privilege and sees that privilege as part of the problem. Much of the world’s animosity and conflict is caused by religion, and a glance at church history shows painfully that Christians have been excessively guilty. But does a sense of privilege from God inevitably lead to arrogance and division? In applying this text we must ensure that privilege leads to unity, not division.

Ancient Judaism saw circumcision as the primary symbol of obedience to the Torah, of belonging to God, and of purity.64 Old Testament faith and Judaism were always concerned with separation from the surrounding people, and practices such as circumcision, Sabbath keeping, food, and other purity laws marked out their differences. These distinctions created difficulties in social relations. The disdain that Jews had for the uncircumcised and impure exacerbated the problem, and, as one might expect, non-Jews retaliated with equal disdain and disparagement.65 But Jewish practices grew out of the reality of God’s election and purposes for Israel. The privilege Israel enjoyed was real; the arrogance and disdain were a failure.

Looking at this ancient problem is like looking in a mirror. The church too enjoys privilege, but has handled it no better. Conflicts within denominations, across denominations, and between Christians and non-Christians are commonplace. Circumcision is no longer the focus, but name-calling, disparagement, and alienation still occur. Too often religious practice is “in the flesh,” merely human, made from human hands as fully as any physical circumcision. Not much progress has been made since Ephesians.

But the description of alienation resulting from privilege is only a part of 2:11–13. The focus on deprivation must also be considered. Much of the world still stands where these Gentiles stood—apart from God, with no involvement in his purposes, and with no hope. When God is left out of the picture, life really is bleak and boring. People stand on the sidelines of life, trying to keep fit and to be entertained. Little reason exists to focus on anything other than self, but that leads to alienation and division and ultimately to despair. People need to hear God calling them into the game; they need to hear God calling them to peace.

How can Christ bring us near to God? Must we still think of sacrifice as essential to bring us to God? Is blood still a necessary ingredient for salvation? How can Christ take human hostility into himself and bring us to God? Questions about Christ’s death for us are difficult. They cannot be diminished, for at stake is the very heart of Christianity. The language of Ephesians is not archaic language that may be set aside, for it points to the fundamentals of the faith. Paul’s discussion about Christ’s saving death assumes a Christology and a faith that involves us with Christ.66 Christology is soteriology. Half a Christology will not do, and if Jesus was just another Jew, his death may have been tragic or even impressive, but not saving. Also, if we are not bound to him in faith, he cannot bring us near to God. But if he was God’s Son sent for us and if we are bound to him by the Spirit, then Paul’s words have meaning.

Several facts are foundational:

(1) We can do nothing that will make ourselves acceptable to God.

(2) We deserve the wrath of God because of our self-centeredness and sin.

(3) In the ancient world sacrifice was universally practiced (and still is in many places),67 which reveals the deficiency humans feel in relation to God.

(4) The sacrifice of Christ was the end of sacrifice—at least in places where Christianity had any effect.

These four facts stand true regardless of what one thinks about Christianity. If God does not reverse the human plight, there is no hope. But the message of Ephesians is that God in his love did. We may surmise other ways God could have dealt with sin—ignore it, for example, or require penance or purgatory—but, to say nothing else, all such options are too impersonal. In God’s love “he became what we are in order that we might become what he is.”68 In Christ God drew alongside, entered into the problem caused by evil, took responsibility for evil, and bore its pain and consequence in his own being. Christ came as the representative human being, standing for us all. He came as the promised bringer of peace.

But is focus on blood necessary? There is nothing magical about the word “blood,” despite the way it gets used by some Christians. The word cannot be ignored, but neither should it be overemphasized.69 The blood is not important in itself, but for that to which it refers—the sacrificial death of Christ, which is central to the gospel. We are not free to deemphasize Christ’s death, but we are free to find the best way to communicate the significance of that death for us.

The main problem in understanding Paul’s theology of salvation at the end of the twentieth century is not the complexity of his thought. Rather, our society does not pay much attention to God, nor do people see any real need for God other than to provide quick fixes for minor problems. The solution is not to bash people into recognition of their sin, but to present God’s call to unity in Christ and peace. Humans have an innate need to belong—both to God and to other humans—and the more we focus on ourselves, the more distorted life becomes. Sin and alienation must be defined, but the focus is on the call to be what God created us to be.

Who cares about Israel? This passage assumes the privilege of Israel and is one of the most important passages in the New Testament referring to Israel. Can we just forget about Israel as an unimportant detail in the story? Actually, the relation of Israel to the church is one of the most significant theological problems the early church faced, a problem that is treated to some degree in virtually every New Testament book. Why did not more Jews believe in Jesus? Were God’s promises to Israel still valid and were Jews still elect?

This passage does not answer these questions. It values Israel’s heritage and privilege, but speaks only of unity between Jews and Gentiles in Christ. In fact, it does not discuss unbelieving Jews (on which see Rom. 9–11). But Christians must care about Israel because God’s work did not suddenly begin with the baptism of Jesus. God’s purpose in Christ and his church started with creation, focused on Israel, cannot be separated from Israel, and is equipped with the Scriptures of Israel. The church cannot cut itself off from its Old Testament heritage and the movement of God’s purposes throughout history.

There is another reason this question must be asked. Dispensationalists and their opponents have often debated what Ephesians 2:11–22 teaches concerning the relation of Israel and the church.70 Is the church now in Israel or is it something separate from Israel? Whereas Romans 11:17–24 says Gentile branches are grafted into Israel, this passage speaks of a new being, something that did not exist before, a “third race,” as it were. But what continuity is there then between the old Israel and the new being in Christ? Was Israel removed and the church given its place? Did a remnant of Israel join Gentiles to create a new being, and if so, what about the other Jews? Does God have two groups of his people, both valid, but separate (and thus evangelism of Jews is unnecessary)?

Dispensationalists are eager to keep this text from saying Gentiles are now part of Israel. This text does suggest something new created by Christ, but caution is in order in treating the relation of Israel and the church. Paul was not attempting to answer our questions, and we must avoid letting our questions obfuscate the text. Three facts are clear in the passage:

(1) Israel is assumed to be in a privileged position.

(2) Now Gentiles share in the privilege.

(3) In Christ Jews and Gentiles are joined into one new being.

Beyond this, the text is silent; it does not address the issue of non-Christian Jews. Certainly implications should be drawn about the relation of Christians to Jews, as we will see. But wisdom in interpretation is often in knowing where to stop interpreting, and we ought not force this text to answer questions it does not treat. Rather, it should be joined to others like Romans 9–11 to form a biblical theology treating the subject, a subject that involves issues Paul himself had not fully worked out.

The new being that is created, however, is not the church, nor is it “a third race,” even though this expression is both valuable and open to abuse. The new being is Jesus Christ himself, who as risen Lord incorporates Jews and Gentiles into himself. The fourfold emphasis on being in him in 2:14–16 requires this.

A dead end. This text is inappropriately forced into other theological battles as well. Since 2:20 speaks of prophets as foundational, some say this demonstrates that prophecy ceased after the apostolic period.71 To avoid this conclusion, W. Grudem argued “apostles and prophets” should be understood as “apostles who are also prophets,”72 which is unlikely. This whole discussion abuses the foundation metaphor and pushes the text outside its own boundaries. Whenever we go from the biblical text to the modern world, we must exercise special caution when dealing with metaphors. Sometimes the logic may seem obvious, when in reality the metaphor is pushed beyond anything the author intended. Metaphors are used for specific purposes in context and should be extended only in the direction of the original purpose. Ephesians 2:20 is only concerned to say the church is built on the revelation of the gospel through apostles and prophets. We may not extend this metaphor to solve the debate whether prophets still exist today.

If this barrier, then all barriers. Much of biblical application takes place by analogy. In bridging contexts, we must identify the theology operating in the text, place it in relation to other texts and theologies, and then extend it from the biblical world to our own. The theology operative in 2:11–22 is a theology of unity, in which the barrier between Jew and Gentile is destroyed and oneness is created.73 Today, unless we were born in a Jewish or Palestinian home, we have little awareness of any barrier caused by Judaism. On the other hand, we are conscious of numerous barriers within our society and between our society and that of others that devalue, distrust, limit, and take advantage of other people. If the law in some way was the dividing wall in the ancient world, for us it is racial difference. The hostility between races, especially between blacks and whites, in virtually all countries continues as an embarrassment. Economic and gender barriers also create conflict and add to the alienation. Our world is filled with such barriers.

Did Christ’s death abolish all the barriers? The barrier between Jew and Gentile was one of the most obvious in history. While more intermingling occurred between Jew and Gentile than might be expected,74 the separation and distinction of Jews was clearly defined. Furthermore, this separation was grounded in commands from God. If this barrier has thus been set aside, what other barrier can be justified? If God does not show favoritism (Acts 10:34–35; Rom. 2:11), if all are created in his image, if God’s purpose is unity, if we are to love even our enemies (Matt. 5:44), if Christ took the hostility into himself to destroy it, on what grounds can we justify keeping any barriers in place? Paul and the early church had already extended the unity in Christ to Jew and Gentile, to slave and free, and to male and female (Gal. 3:28). None of our barriers—our ways of devaluing, limiting, and taking advantage of others—has any basis.

The cross is the place where barriers are destroyed. Before the cross we know our own sin, and we cannot stand there without realizing all of us are without defense and have no claim on God. No one has higher value than anyone else. The ground at the cross is level. Any standing we have is God-given, not something that inherently makes us better than others.

An important problem, however, is our inability to think beyond what we already know. Why did Christians during the United States Civil War era on both sides fail to see the significance of Ephesians 2:11–22 for the slavery question? Were they caught up in debates about slavery and equality so that they neglected to remember Christ destroyed the barriers and created unity?75 Do we assume—or love—the barriers so much that we do not hear the text? God’s description of reality ought to be the definition by which we live.

But if barriers are removed in Christ, what about barriers with non-Christians? We must recognize that no barrier that rejects people for who they are is ever justified. All whom we meet are potentially people who will be in Christ and therefore one with us. The grace that has accepted us into Christ is extended to them by us. All people regardless of race or status—however defined—are to be valued, enabled, and treated justly.76

Can we have peace in this world? Similar to the foregoing is the problem concerning peace in this world. On this issue most of us feel like the author of stanza 3 of “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day:”

And in despair I bowed my head:

“There is no peace on earth,” I said,

“For hate is strong, and mocks the song

Of peace on earth, good will to men.”77

Paul here describes God’s reality in Christ against which our reality is seen as an outdated perversion. We cannot deny the reality of this world, but we are defined by the larger reality God has established. Like everything else in Ephesians, peace too is now and not yet. Complete peace will not come until “all things are brought under one head” (1:10), but peace still defines us now. This peace cannot be reduced to a feeling of peace within or to peace of mind, for the text deals with human relations and even sees peace with God in terms of a united people ushered into his presence. “Christ is our peace” means we live in the peace he has established and conveys to us. Both the vertical and the horizontal dimensions of this peace are to be lived in the present.

From individual to corporate. In the treatment of 2:1–10 we saw that Christians can no longer view themselves merely as individuals. They are part of Christ and of each other. In 2:11–22 this theme is emphasized once again, with “one new being” and with the “body” and “building” imagery. The problem is that modern Christians—especially in the Western world—seem to know only individualism. We must change our outlook. This passage confronts our individualism and asserts our involvement with Christ and with those in him. We cannot separate our relation with God from our relation with other people. The two are so interwoven that they do not exist in isolation, even if we rightly argue the relationship with God is primary. The horizontal and vertical dimensions interact with and define each other. Even in approaching God in confession and repentance, we have already acted on the horizontal plane.

This text is not about people going to heaven or about the church as a group of individuals gathered for mutual support. As important as these are, the goal is for people to be joined to each other in Christ and given access to God in the present. As we will see especially in relation to 4:3, unity is a given from which we live.

The church is a corporate reality. Earlier we stressed that Christology is soteriology, but now it becomes clear that Christology is soteriology is ecclesiology is ethics. These theological categories are not separate subjects put into containers for analysis; they are aspects of the same reality of being bound to Christ. Christ incorporates people into his own being, his death, and his resurrection, and therein lies their salvation. But in him they are a corporate reality (a new being, a body, a temple), which results in a church of people bound to each other in Christ. Because they are bound to each other in him, they take their character from him and live out the fact that they belong to each other. This is the root of the love, care, and justice Christians are to show.

Contemporary Significance

AS IN PREVIOUS sections, we have a text that does not specifically ask anything of us. No imperative is given regarding any act or attitude (other than remembering). All the focus is on the change Christ accomplished and the privilege of new life in him. At the same time, however, the relevance of this passage for Christian living and for the church is enormous.

Remember your identity. Memory enables life by providing an understanding of reality within which we live. We remember pain, enjoyment, people, information, and events in order to make appropriate choices for the present and future. Some memories we choose; others are burned into us by the sheer force of the event. Memories can be paths to success or scars that disable. Sometimes we choose to forget painful parts of life, but often only succeed in repressing the memory until a later, possibly more difficult, time. We also make choices in remembering as to how much attention will be given to particular painful or enjoyable events. Remembering is the way we name and process the past, the way we structure our minds to know how to live.

Paul asks that we remember the life-determining change Christ has brought in us—that is, the radical movement from being dead in sins to life in Christ, from being excluded to being included, for this movement is still at work in our lives every day. Such remembering gives attention to the continuing change at work in us and will not allow us to become lax or guilty of pride. Remembering is therefore the key to loving and worshiping God. Balance is required, however. We do not remember the former life for its own sake or to wallow in its memory. It no longer determines us. We focus instead on Christ and the change he has brought.

For some people past memories are so painful that they cannot be forgotten, and no suggestion is made that such memories can be easily erased. But Christians must know that the only event that defines us is Christ’s death and resurrection, in which we are involved. We die to self—both the sinful self and the self sinned against—and rise to new life in Christ. Here too the now and not yet character of faith is present. The old reality still must be faced, but newness in Christ is the defining force.

A woman who has been raped cannot forget the violation against her, but must the violation continue as an open wound or scar preventing life? Or can life defined by Christ bring healing and wholeness? Does betrayal necessarily lead to cynicism and mistrust, or does definition come from elsewhere? Does sin define us or does Christ? We cannot always choose what happens to us, but we can choose—at least to some degree—what power it will be granted. If this sounds cavalier, a glance at 2 Corinthians 11:22–33 shows it is not. Paul was exposed to unbelievable suffering and humiliation; but for all its impact, Christ was still his defining reality, and some of his letters do not even betray that he has suffered.

Remembering requires attention; it does not happen automatically. To apply this text means that time will be given to thinking, reading, discussing, and learning about the change God has brought. Remembering will lead to prayer and an awareness of God’s presence and his involvement in what we do.

A warning for Christians. Christians enjoy enormous privilege in being taken into the family of God, but such a thought is open to serious abuse, abuse so common that use of such language becomes problematic. Far too frequently Christians view privilege as something they possess, forgetting that the gift ought never to be separated from the Giver.78 We possess nothing but the Christ to whom we are bound. Any privilege comes from him and is known only in him. When we forget this, we distort the faith and overestimate ourselves.

Ephesians 2:11–12 serves as a strong warning to Christians, for we are as vulnerable to the failures of the Jews as they were. Unfortunately, much name-calling takes place within the church. When we label someone pejoratively, we too are acting “in the flesh”—in a merely human way that does not involve God. We also have our religious badges that demean and exclude, just as circumcision did for the Jews. Our sense of privilege turns into a “holier than thou” attitude that makes healthy relations impossible. When we communicate division and disdain, are not our religious acts also “made from human hands”?

My own Southern Baptist denomination is torn by strife. Actions taken on all sides have not been done in a Christian manner. Do we not have to say, “This is a baptism in the flesh, made from human hands”? Unfortunately, much Christian action falls in this category, but we cannot live as Christians while behaving in a non-Christian manner. If we do not show the same love and grace as the One into whose family we have been brought, we betray that we do not really belong in the home. We are still estranged from God while performing religious acts.

Application of this text occurs in humility and repentance, followed by serious family talk about how we communicate who we are. How can we keep privilege, obedience, and righteous action from bringing division, disdain, and name-calling? “Holier than thou” attitudes are almost impossible to stop and are often unperceived by the “holy.” We cannot draw people to Christ while inadvertently belittling them. Privilege should lead to thanksgiving, not arrogance. Once again a sense of grace is the key. Grace excludes pride and extends itself to others in need.

We belong. Throughout life, most of us have some sense of not belonging, and we feel unaccepted and inferior. The drive to identify with someone, some group, or some cause deemed important—even if it is only a sports team—is enormous. Such identifications make us feel important. We need to belong, to have some sense of fit in the world, and from a sense of belonging comes the ability to relate and accomplish things. Our own families are, of course, primary in giving us a sense of belonging.

This text says we do belong. Christ brought us home to God. We live in God’s house as members of his family, and at the same time we are a house in which God lives (2:19–22). We belong with God and are involved in what he is doing. The other people in the house are family with us. This home defines us. Christ has given us place in his world, and from that sense of belonging comes a growing ability to relate and accomplish the tasks to which we are called. This texts asks that we remember where home is: We are at home with God.

From here all else in the Christian life flows. The church as a family of faith should have the feel of family. Family members care for each other, are committed to each other, confront each other, and sustain each other. A sense of family should shape our worship. Worship should not be like a production we watch; rather, we need the comfort and freedom of being involved in a family experience, joining together to communicate with God, to address and be addressed. No one should be allowed to feel like an outsider in the church; all people need to know they belong.

The barriers are down; Christians live with God. Consciously or unconsciously people—even those who believe in Christ—can think of God as distant and unapproachable. This lack of a sense of the nearness to God lies at the root of much of human failure. Yet even before faith, God is never distant from us, as Paul reminded the Athenians (Acts 17:27) and as the psalmist testified (Ps. 139:7–12). The language of nearness is, of course, metaphorical, and we need to distinguish language about God’s presence prior to faith and our being brought near in Christ. In the former, God is the holy, gracious God seeking people, but his holiness is also an overwhelming presence. In Christ, however, we have been brought to God, and the barriers blocking access to him, such as sin, hostility, and the weakness of the flesh have been removed.

Peace, access, nearness, and reconciliation all emphasize that the barriers between God and us have been removed. But what does the text want us to do with this information? Nothing explicit is said, but several implications are present.

(1) We live with God and he with us. We communicate with God, and his presence shapes us. Once again faith is shown to be relational, not a decision or set of beliefs.

(2) Life, salvation, and resources for life flow from God to those with him. This is not a “health and wealth” theology, but a recognition that God is the giver of all good things.

(3) Worship and thanksgiving are a natural part of life.

(4) The character of God is our guide. What is implicit in this text will be made explicit in 5:1: Christians are to imitate their God.

The barriers are down; Christians are joined. The attitude of this world is best expressed in the phrase, “You’re different from me, and I resent you for that.”79 We create barriers between races, nations, religions, genders, social and economic classes, denominations, schools, communities, teams, and families. Differentiation is necessary for identity, but the human tendency to create barriers is a distortion and a sin. Distinction and uniqueness do not have to lead to division. The erection of barriers results from the ways we attribute value, that is, by devaluing those who are different.

Even before being in Christ, humans have more in common than they do differently. All are made in the image of God, have the same needs, and experience the same distortion from sin. But especially in Christ no ground exists for barriers or divisions—not along racial, sexual, cultural, or any other lines. We are one with all others in Christ whether we like it or not. To maintain divisions is to deny what Christ has accomplished.

Application requires a change of mind. The markers that define us must give way to the one determining marker that says who we are—Christ himself. The other markers may be real, but they neither define us nor divide us from other people in Christ. All people stand with the same value before God, and we belong to the same family with other believers.

The race problem. Nowhere is this theology more important for modern Christians than in dealing with racial hostility. Christians of other races are part of us, and divisions cannot be allowed to continue. The racial barrier is like a festering wound in the body of Christ. We may no longer have separate drinking fountains such as I witnessed as a child—one marked “Whites only” and another marked “Colored only.” Yet racial hostility boils just under the surface in the United States and many other countries, and Christians contribute to the problem. Sunday is often the most segregated day of the week, for Christians worship along racial lines.

The perversion of both active and passive racism must be challenged and stopped. The church must be a place where people know the barriers have been removed, can find solace, and can deal with racial injustice. The witness of the church is at stake. When people are told either implicitly or explicitly that they are not welcome in a church because of their color, the church has become an absurd place.

Racism will have to be treated on two levels, both as a general societal problem and specifically within the body of Christ. Racism in any form is prohibited by the equality of all people before God and by his unrestricted love. But the theology of the body of Christ deals with the issue at another level. The point is not merely that all Christians are equal; rather, the point is that all Christians have been joined, which has far more significance and impact.

If the barriers are down and we are joined to other believers, then several responses are required from Christians. (1) Acceptance and valuing people of other races on an equal level is a necessity. An attitude that says in effect, “They are not our kind,” destroys the body of Christ. Since all of us operate with such attitudes, an ongoing repentance is prerequisite.

(2) In addition, we will need investment in Christians of other races. We cannot accept and value what we do not know or care about. We need to demonstrate that other groups matter to us. The unity cannot be merely a theoretical unity, but must be put into practice.

(3) We need to seek justice for other groups as well. Questions about justice are often complicated—witness the debate over illegal immigrants—but the church should be leading the discussion about justice and compassion so that whole groups of people are not placed on a second tier. Racism has to be named, confronted, and rejected.

(4) Finally, some level of sharing among Christians must take place. Unity does not exist without involvement. Hands need to be joined in worship, in learning, in ministering to needs, and in evangelism. The most significant witness to the love of Christ lies in the ability of Christians of various races to care for each other and work together.

Male and female. From the ancient world on, barriers between the sexes were created for two primary reasons: to prevent abuse of women and because women are viewed as inferior. Today radical feminists, in reaction to centuries of abuse, have deepened the hostility between the sexes. Here too the witness of the church is at stake. Christians need to show that in Christ relations are different, that women are not devalued and are not to be used or abused, and that the barrier has been destroyed in Christ. Women should not have to fear abuse but should feel as accepted and valued as men are. Here, as elsewhere, the not-yet character of faith lived in this world may be all too obvious, but the church must be the place where people experience the now in the presence of the not yet. Women must know they are fully part of the body of Christ and that barriers do not prohibit their full participation.

One of the most sacred sites for Jews is the so-called “wailing wall” in Jerusalem, a retaining wall from the temple mount in Jesus’ day. Anyone who has seen this wall knows that a rail stands to separate men who pray on the left from women who pray on the right.80 Churches are not so obvious, but Christians have for too long categorized women differently. This text will not allow the barrier to continue.

Many other barriers exist in our society, such as education, social standing, and economics. The differences will not go away, but the church must think through the fact that the differences should not divide us or make anyone feel less valuable.

Two wrong turns. At times Christians have argued that unity in Christ is a “spiritual” reality and does not require involvement with other groups. Separation of the “spiritual” from the “secular” cannot be tolerated. Such attempts avoid the implications of the gospel. That which is spiritual affects, rather directs, all of life. One has only to look at Paul’s confronting Peter over not eating with Gentiles (Gal. 2:11–14); unity in Christ has to do with sitting at table together. The church cannot be allowed to exist in self-selected and self-serving groups.

Second, some have concluded that since the barriers are down, Christians need not evangelize Jews. The relation between Jews and Christians is a delicate issue, both because Christians exist only because of their Jewish heritage and because of the holocaust in Nazi Germany. From an exegetical standpoint, the unity about which the text speaks is unity between Jewish Christians and Gentile Christians—not unity between Jews and Christians. This is a unity in Christ. Paul certainly did not hesitate to seek the conversion of Jews, and neither should we, given the humility and respect that is needed for any work of evangelism.81

However, no ground exists for even a hint of anti-Semitism, a sin that too easily appears among Christians. The implicit message that Jews should be punished because they crucified Christ is theologically naive. The Jews as a race are no more responsible for the death of Christ than any other race, and we should be careful in describing the crucifixion that Jews do not become scapegoats. They are like the rest of us, needing a Savior.

United, not uniform. Paul’s emphasis on unity does not mean all Christians are alike. Unity in Christ does not negate differences, cultural uniqueness, or the value of culture. Jews in Christ do not become Gentiles, nor do Gentiles become Jewish Christians. Women do not become men, or vice versa, and people do not suddenly all have the same abilities. Paul’s body theology assumes both unity and diversity (1 Cor. 12:14–26).

Once again, the issue of the relation of gospel and culture enters the discussion.82 Enjoying one’s own culture is to be expected, and we choose like-minded people for good reasons. The homogeneous principle of church growth, which has churches target groups culturally similar to themselves, is understandable. Communication requires similarity, and like attracts like. Worship is a cultural expression and has most impact when framed in culturally specific ways. No one should be surprised or find fault that blacks are more comfortable in black churches, Koreans in Korean churches, and whites in white churches.

But the barriers are down, and the homogeneous principle—for all its practicality—cannot guide the church. Cultural preferences must take a backseat to unity in Christ. The most important issue is always identity: What is the strongest defining reality for us—Christ or culture? Culture is important—indeed, a necessary part of the fabric of our lives—but Christ, not culture, gives the primary definition to life. Culture is the means by which Christ is expressed, but the message is Christ himself. Do ethnic churches exist to preserve a culture or to promote Christ? Often one gets the impression that the real center of all our churches is our culture, not our Lord. That attitude needs to change.

Churches need to be astute enough to know when they are using culture, when they are adapting culture, and when they must confront culture.83 Churches must demonstrate that the barriers are down. That most churches are culturally monolithic is an embarrassment. Church members must show they care about other people in Christ, even if they are different culturally, economically, politically, or socially. A monolithic church in a multicultural context is a failure. Churches need to demonstrate unity with Christians of other cultures, to seek justice, and to evangelize across cultural and racial lines. We have to show the barriers are down.

The church is a peace institute. The peace discussed in this text is not about good inner feelings; it is about relations. Far too many people have distorted ideas about religion, that religion is what they do when they are alone, quiet, and thinking of God. They forget that the vertical relation with God is bound to and expressed in horizontal relations with people. Note too that the text does not say, “He is my peace”; it says, “He is our peace.” A church is a group of people who know this and embody peace in anticipation of that day when God establishes peace in all his creation. In the church God’s work of peace has a beachhead and is already represented. Christians by definition are people of peace. That does not mean we are passive or quiescent. On the contrary, as people of peace we by necessity struggle for justice.

In our churches peace is rarely given value. We have assumed our culture’s insecurity to such a degree that peace is relegated to end time eschatology. Premium value is placed on “doing it my way” and “believing as I say.” Christians are marked more by division than peace. But if peace was a criterion by which Paul solved problems, then peace should have regulative force for us too. It should both rule our hearts and our churches. In the church peace should get a chance. Numerous schools for war exist, and both amateurs and scholars study wars. Few people study peace. The church should be a place where people study and practice peace. But again a caution is in order. Peace does not mean passivity. If Isaiah 57:21 reminds us “there is no peace for the wicked,” then focusing on peace will mean focusing on righteousness and justice.84

Christians are a corporate group. Modern evangelicals tend to focus on Christianity as a religion of the individual. The failure of the church has often driven people to this option, but the New Testament knows nothing of “lone ranger” Christianity. The individual and the faith of the individual are both important, but the Christian faith is a corporate religion. When one is baptized into Christ, one is baptized into the body of Christ (1 Cor. 12:13; Gal. 3:27–28). This part of the reality of faith should not be neglected. People do relate to God as individuals, but the focus is corporate.85 In the horizontal relation the vertical relation is lived out. The gospel needs to be presented in such a way that people realize its sociological dimensions.

The division in the church into so many groups is a scandal. I am not suggesting all parts of the church should agree. Nor is the goal to form structures of unity; rather, the goal is living unity in Christ. Far too often Christians are more interested in their brand of Christianity than in Christ. They are Lutheran, Baptist, or whatever before they are Christian, and anyone else is, at best, misguided. Without focusing on structures, must not the church focus on unity in Christ? Must not the church be both evangelical and ecumenical?

To focus on unity has nothing to do with being weak on doctrine. Unity is itself a theological necessity. Christians cannot sacrifice the essence of the gospel to attain unity, for that would not be Christian unity. Most of our divisions, however, occurred without justification and were usually accompanied by non-Christian attitudes and acts. We must be ready to tolerate disagreement as we enjoy unity. Obviously central tenets of the faith—such as the authority of Scriptures, the deity of Christ, and the death and resurrection of Christ—should not be diminished, for without these central features we no longer have a Christian church.

Holding staunchly to correct doctrine is not sufficient to defend the faith. Do we not as staunchly need to hold to Christian attitudes and practices and to unity? Why do the so-called defenders of orthodoxy have such a difficult time showing grace? Is it impossible to be both orthodox and magnanimous at the same time? Orthodoxy ought to make people gracious. The key is in seeing that both the content of belief and the conduct of belief are determined by Christ.

The church is centered on Christ. Communities can exist for a variety of reasons, but the Christian church exists only because of Christ and his purposes. Christianity is a religion centered on a person. The church gathers around the character of Christ, not the characteristics of the people. Apart from the significance of his death and resurrection, the church has no reason to exist. The church is a community and has traditions and rituals, but it is not about any of these things. The church is about Jesus Christ, and the other pieces of the picture exist to display the role of Christ in the church. It is possible to be Jewish and to observe events such as the Passover Seder without religious commitment to Judaism. The Christian community, however, has no other reason to exist other than Christ himself. He is our peace, the one in whom all are united, the one who gives access to God, and the cornerstone on whom the building grows.

Consequently, the activities of a church should reflect this central focus on Christ. Only then can believers fulfill their mission. This suggestion is not limiting, for Christ is the focal point of God’s purposes and the one in whom all things are brought together (1:10). The church’s agenda is not a collection of meaningful ideas and projects. The church’s agenda is Christ, in whom all subjects are placed in order.

As a result, teaching and preaching about Christ must be the focus. This is implicit in Christ’s preaching peace in 2:17 and in the mention of “apostles and prophets” in 2:20. Just as this whole passage emphasizes what Christ accomplished, so the church proclaims his message of peace both far and near and teaches people the implications of the change he brings. A church communicates Christ both in speech and action, or it has ceased to be a church.

The sociological dimensions of this text rule out any division of evangelism and social justice. Such a dichotomy should never have been allowed. Neither can evangelism be viewed as anxiety-driven speech-persuading decisions. Evangelism is the authentic living out of life with Christ in word and act. Unfortunately, churches too frequently become uncomfortable about presenting Christ and fall into a maintenance mode. They are the ones who need most to heed this text with its call to remember the change and its Christocentric focus on the privileges Christ brings.

The church is the people. Even when we know better, we tend to think of the church as either a physical structure or a denominational entity, both of which exist to produce programs. Such meanings of the word church are derived meanings. Even in the New Testament the word ekklesia is used of a non-Christian “assembly,”86 and Paul may have intended no more than “assembly” or “gathering” when he applied the word to Christians. Neither physical structures nor denominations are necessary to have a church. The people are the stones that make up this building in which God dwells.87

My comments are not intended to disparage physical buildings or denominations. Conducive space enables worship and ministry, and organizations can facilitate tasks, but neither is the church. If we remember the church is the people, several implications follow. (1) Church is no longer perceived as a program that some people put on for others to watch. The people are participants, joining together to worship and to have fellowship with God, who is present with them as a group. (2) Ministry is for everyone, not merely the clergy. The people are the temple in which God dwells. (3) Value is placed on people. Sometimes the impression is given that people are dispensable, as long as the building is maintained and the programs keep going. The average church in the United States devotes the majority of its funds to its building and internal operations. What if we invested in people as much as in our buildings and systems?

An actor sitting in a theatre looked around him and said, “This is my church.” Everyone has a church, the place you go for definition and to assert your allegiances. For some people it is a bar, for some a stadium; for Christians it is the place where Christ is the norm and where allegiance is paid to him.

Original Meaning

Peace with God and His People Through Christ (2:14–18)

THIS SECTION EXPANDS on the brief statement in 2:13. Note the change to the first person in verse 14, to the second person in verse 17, and back to the first person in verse 18. The occurrences of the first person are required because Paul is emphasizing the union of Jews and Gentiles. As before, the second person emphasizes the relevance of the comments for the readers.

Christ our peace (2:14a, 17). “He himself” attempts to do justice to the emphasis on the pronoun in the Greek text. “He is our peace” serves as a heading for 2:14–18. As Barth points out, “To say Christ—that is to speak of peace. To speak of peace—that is to speak of Christ!”21

The impact of Isaiah 52:7 and 57:19 is clear in 2:13 and 17, but a much larger theology of peace associated with the Messiah stands behind this section. Judaism had linked Isaiah 9:6 with 52:7,22 but also texts like Micah 5:5a and Zechariah 9:9–10 focused on the Messiah as the bringer of peace. Micah 5:5a, portraying a messianic shepherd ruler, is virtually identical to Ephesians 2:14a and seems to be the origin of Paul’s wording.

Peace dominates this section both explicitly (vv. 14, 15, 17 [twice]) and implicitly (unity, destruction of division and hostility, access, and reconciliation). Christ is our peace, makes peace, and proclaims peace. Paul seeks to connect Christ and peace as comprehensively as possible. He is the one who makes peace possible, who announces its availability, and in whom peace is enjoyed. This theology of peace is both a Christological and a soteriological statement.

The word for peace (eirene) occurs forty-three times in Paul’s letters, eight of which are in Ephesians (1:2; 2:14–17; 4:3; 6:15, 23). Peace is a central and fundamental component of Paul’s theology. Virtually every topic of doctrinal significance is brought into relation to peace. In addition to occurrences in greetings and blessings, note the following:

God is a God of peace (Rom. 15:33; 16:20; 1 Cor. 14:33; 2 Cor. 13:11; 1 Thess. 5:23).

Christ is the Lord of peace who gives peace (2 Thess. 3:16).

The gospel is a gospel of peace (Eph. 6:15).

The mindset of the Spirit is life and peace (Rom. 8:6),

Peace is an eschatological reward (Rom. 2:10),

Peace is equivalent to salvation and describes relation to God (Rom. 5:1),

The kingdom is righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit (Rom. 14:17),

Peace is the goal for human relations (Rom. 14:19; Eph. 4:3; 2 Tim. 2:22).

Peace is the foundation for problem solving (1 Cor. 7:15; 14:33).

The fruit of the Spirit is peace (Gal. 5:17).

Peace guards our hearts (Phil. 4:7) and rules in them (Col. 3:15).

With such varied use it is not surprising that Paul summarizes the gospel by saying, “He [Christ] is our peace.” Peace is not merely the cessation of hostility; it is a comprehensive term for salvation and life with God. The background to this use is the Old Testament concept of shalom, which covers wholeness, physical well-being, prosperity, security, good relations, and integrity.23 David even asks about the shalom of his war (2 Sam. 11:7; NIV, “how the war was going”)! Shalom is much more positive than merely the absence of conflict. It refers to the way life should be and is a gift of God that is received only in his presence. In various texts shalom is equated with righteousness, justice, salvation, and the reign of God.24 Yahweh is peace (Judg. 6:24), makes a covenant of peace with his people, and promises one who will bring peace.25 Peace is what God wills for his people, as can be seen in the great prophecies about the future.26

In 2:14–18 peace is unexpectedly both a destructive and a constructive act. Division and hostility had to be destroyed, and unity and peace established. Peace and reconciliation (v. 16) take place on both horizontal and vertical levels. Most of the focus initially is placed on the horizontal peace established between Jews and Gentiles. “The two” (v. 14) refers to the two parties mentioned in verses 11–12, the Jews and the Gentiles,27 and the mention of the law (v. 15) and of Gentiles being included with God’s people (v. 19) is further confirmation. In Christ, Jews and Gentiles are made into one new being.

At the same time, “he himself is our peace” describes the vertical dimension. We have peace with God (Rom. 5:1). Hostility between humanity and God is at least implied here and may be explicit in 2:16 with the words “put to death their hostility”28 (if this does not refer again to the hostility between Jews and Gentiles; see Rom. 5:8–10). Christ not only joins Jews and Gentiles into a new being, but he ushers both of them in one body into God’s presence.

Christ’s preaching of “peace to you who were far away and peace to those who were near” (v. 17) refers to the preaching done by the apostles and missionaries to Gentiles and Jews respectively, not literal preaching by Jesus. But this phrase does show how much Paul viewed himself and other proclaimers as representatives of Christ. “Preached peace” is adopted from Isaiah 52:7 (cf. also Zech. 9:10).29

The destruction of the barrier that divides (2:14b–15). The identification of the “barrier, the dividing wall of hostility” and how it relates to the “law with its commandments and regulations” is difficult. The problem is compounded by uncertainty over whether “hostility” should be taken with the dividing wall (NIV) or with the law (NASB), and whether “in his flesh” should be taken with “destroyed” in verse 14 (NEB) or with “abolished” in verse 15 (NIV).30 How does “abolishing … the law” (v. 15) relate to “destroyed the barrier” (v. 14)? Is “the barrier” only a way of referring to “the law,” or is something different intended?

To some degree the answer to these questions depends on the identification of the “barrier, the dividing wall.” Five options are usually suggested:

the flesh

the cosmic barrier between heaven and earth referred to in Gnostic texts

the law

the curtain separating the Holy Place and the Most Holy Place in the temple

the barrier in the temple between the Court of the Gentiles and the Court of the Israelites

The first two have little to commend them.31 The other three options all focus on the law in some way. The law was referred to as an “iron wall” surrounding Israel and a “fence” separating them from people of other nations.32 The idea of access to God in 2:18 could allude to the temple curtain, torn at Jesus’ death, though this is unlikely, since “the dividing wall” is a strange way to refer to the curtain of the temple.33 Most older commentators accepted that Paul had in mind the fifth option, the barrier in the temple. Both Josephus and Philo describe a barrier separating the Court of the Gentiles from the Court of the Israelites; signs were posted in Latin and Greek, warning Gentiles not to go farther into the temple precincts under penalty of death. Archaeological and literary evidence confirms the existence of these signs.34 It is worth remembering that Paul was arrested in Jerusalem on the specific charge that he had taken an Ephesian named Trophimus into the restricted temple area (see Acts 21:28–29). If Paul is not referring to this literal barrier in the temple, it is at least a striking example of the division caused by the law. On the other hand, if “the dividing wall” does refer to the temple barrier, it is in essence a symbol of the law itself as a tool of division (cf. Eph. 2:15).35

In other words, if Paul is referring to the temple barrier, the words “has destroyed the barrier” (2:14) have a narrower, specific focus while “abolishing in his flesh the law” is broader and more general. If “barrier” refers to the law generally, then the two phrases are parallel. In either case the law itself is viewed as an instrument of division, which it surely and intentionally was. Israel saw its election and its laws as separating her from the surrounding nations, especially after the Exile. Circumcision, Sabbath keeping, and food laws were all primary indications of the distinctions between Jews and other people, leading to arrogance and name-calling.

“Abolished the law” is strong language and can easily mislead. But note the qualifiers to this text: “the law with its commandments and regulations.” Paul does not abolish the law as the Word of God or as a moral guide (cf. his quoting one of the ten commandments in 6:2). What is abolished is the law as a set of regulations that excludes Gentiles.36 The moral instruction of the law continues, but Paul will tolerate no practice of the law that excludes Gentiles or forces them to become Jews. One of the main messages of Ephesians is that Gentiles are accepted by God in Christ on an equal footing with Jews.

The destruction of the barrier takes place “in his [Christ’s] flesh.” As we have already pointed out, the source of the problem is “in the flesh” for both Jews and Gentiles (v. 11), and now God’s solution is also “in the flesh,” which refers to the Incarnation and specifically to the death of Jesus on the cross (see vv. 15–16).37 Jesus took the hostility of both Jews and Gentiles into himself, and when he died it died. As Paul wrote in Galatians 3:13: “Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us.”38 With good reason M. Barth points to the priestly overtones of this section and the resulting conclusion that Christ is presented both as priest and as sacrifice.39

The unity of the new being. Reconciliation is both a destructive and a constructive act, and verses 14–16 use four expressions to state that both take place in Christ: “in his flesh;” “in himself;” “in one body;” “by which” (lit., “in him”). Not only does Christ take the hostility into himself and destroy it, but also in himself he creates a new being. Implicit in this language is a theology of the resurrection, for that is the source of the new creation.

Notice that the new being (NIV, “one new man”) is a corporate idea.40 Jesus Christ in his death and resurrection identified with and represented humanity. People are incorporated into him, and when he is raised to new life, a new being comes into existence, one in which people are one with Christ and one with each other in him. Grace not only connects us to God and Christ, it connects us to each other.

This assumption is the basis of Paul’s use of the “body” (v. 16). Does “body” refer to Christ’s body on the cross or to the church as his body? Usually “body” in Ephesians refers to the church,41 but would these two uses have been kept separate? As Schnackenburg argues, “The Church is thereby pulled into the vicinity of the Cross, exists in fact in the Crucifixion-event…. So close is the connection of the Church to Christ that she already appears in the Cross as a New Creation, the one redeemed humanity.”42 The new being43 is Christ himself, into which people are incorporated as his body.

The purpose of the new being is the creation of peace and unity between Jews and Gentiles. Unity is a major theme of this letter.44 Four affirmations of unity exist in 2:14–18:

“made the two one” (2:14)

“to create in himself one new man out of the two” (2:15)

“in this one body to reconcile both of them” (2:16)

“we both have access to the Father by [in] one Spirit” (2:18)

The two groups of people are made one. God’s purpose for the unity of all things, introduced at 1:10, treated briefly in 1:22–23, is now expanded. Divided humanity is reconciled in Christ and joined into a unified, worshiping community. In effect, Paul suggests that Christians are a “third race” beside Jews and Gentiles;45 the two are one in Jesus Christ. The name-calling of 2:11 is over.

Reconciliation. This passage is one of the few that discuss the doctrine of reconciliation, which focuses on the restoration of broken relations. In the New Testament this language appears only in Paul’s letters, and then only infrequently.46 The verb to “reconcile” (apokatallasso) does not occur prior to Paul’s use, and in the New Testament appears elsewhere only in Colossians 1:20 and 22.47 In each reconciliation passage the focus is different. Romans 5:10–11 focuses on reconciliation between God and sinners who are enemies. In 2 Corinthians 5:18–21 God reconciles us/the world to himself and gives us the ministry of reconciliation. In Colossians 1:20–21 God reconciles to himself all things on earth and in heaven. In Ephesians 2:16 a double reconciliation occurs—that between God and humanity and that between Jews and Gentiles.

In New Testament texts, God is always the one who does the reconciling. Human beings are reconciled; God (or Christ) reconciles. The initiative always lies with God. The cross is God’s act to reconcile people to himself, not an act by which he is reconciled. Even when people are hostile to God and God is angry, he loves and works to restore relations.

The result of reconciliation is “access” (2:18), the privilege of entering into God’s presence.48 The term was used of an audience with a king, but the more likely nuance derives from temple ideas of access to God (see Heb. 6:18–20; 10:19–22). The temple language is obvious in this text, especially in 2:19–22 (cf. also Isa. 56:6–8).The Spirit is brought into the picture as the means of access to the Father.49 The Spirit is the agent of incorporation and union and the one who mediates the presence of God to us (see also 1 Cor. 12:13).

Bridging Contexts

A MAJOR ASSUMPTION in applying Scripture is that people in the ancient world were essentially the same as we are. We see the continuity from one generation to another, and we see ourselves in the text. This commonality is what makes it possible for us to take an ancient text and bring it into our context, recognizing, of course, differences between their world and ours.

Should we remember or forget? Ephesians 2:11 is unique in the New Testament, for it is the only text that explicitly tells us to remember our former plight. How does this message fit with Philippians 3:13–14, which tells us to forget what is behind? Actually, both texts have the same concern—a life shaped by Christ. Philippians emphasizes Christ as the focus and goal that determines all we do. In 3:5–11, however, Paul does the same thing he asks in Ephesians 2:11: He remembers his past and the reordering of his life to gain Christ. In Ephesians he not only wants people to remember their former plight, but also what they have become.

Memory is a wonderful gift from God that enables life; without it true living is virtually impossible. Remembering structures our minds to live for God. It frames our identity and sets us on course for life in Christ. We need to remember sin, for part of sin’s delusion is that it keeps us unaware of sin. We need also to remember the biblical stories and the content of the faith. In the Lord’s Supper we remember Christ’s death and resurrection, and we remember the change worked within us. Remembering is a way to deal with our pride and self-sufficiency and also to keep connected to God.

Old problems in new dress. The mention of circumcision, uncircumcision, blood, and Israel all seem foreign—if not barbaric—and are of little obvious relevance for us. But the problems described continue to be deeply rooted human problems that vex us all: alienation, division, name-calling, separation from God and his purposes, and hopelessness. As long as these problems continue, people will know loneliness, fracture, lack of trust, and discouragement. Note the description of sin as alienation, fracture, and purposelessness (2:11–12). From these problems come a host of other sins, such as envy, hatred, lying, conflict, abuse, murder, and war.

Note too how the problem of alienation was rooted in religious privilege. The text both assumes the legitimacy of Israel’s privilege and sees that privilege as part of the problem. Much of the world’s animosity and conflict is caused by religion, and a glance at church history shows painfully that Christians have been excessively guilty. But does a sense of privilege from God inevitably lead to arrogance and division? In applying this text we must ensure that privilege leads to unity, not division.

Ancient Judaism saw circumcision as the primary symbol of obedience to the Torah, of belonging to God, and of purity.64 Old Testament faith and Judaism were always concerned with separation from the surrounding people, and practices such as circumcision, Sabbath keeping, food, and other purity laws marked out their differences. These distinctions created difficulties in social relations. The disdain that Jews had for the uncircumcised and impure exacerbated the problem, and, as one might expect, non-Jews retaliated with equal disdain and disparagement.65 But Jewish practices grew out of the reality of God’s election and purposes for Israel. The privilege Israel enjoyed was real; the arrogance and disdain were a failure.

Looking at this ancient problem is like looking in a mirror. The church too enjoys privilege, but has handled it no better. Conflicts within denominations, across denominations, and between Christians and non-Christians are commonplace. Circumcision is no longer the focus, but name-calling, disparagement, and alienation still occur. Too often religious practice is “in the flesh,” merely human, made from human hands as fully as any physical circumcision. Not much progress has been made since Ephesians.

But the description of alienation resulting from privilege is only a part of 2:11–13. The focus on deprivation must also be considered. Much of the world still stands where these Gentiles stood—apart from God, with no involvement in his purposes, and with no hope. When God is left out of the picture, life really is bleak and boring. People stand on the sidelines of life, trying to keep fit and to be entertained. Little reason exists to focus on anything other than self, but that leads to alienation and division and ultimately to despair. People need to hear God calling them into the game; they need to hear God calling them to peace.

How can Christ bring us near to God? Must we still think of sacrifice as essential to bring us to God? Is blood still a necessary ingredient for salvation? How can Christ take human hostility into himself and bring us to God? Questions about Christ’s death for us are difficult. They cannot be diminished, for at stake is the very heart of Christianity. The language of Ephesians is not archaic language that may be set aside, for it points to the fundamentals of the faith. Paul’s discussion about Christ’s saving death assumes a Christology and a faith that involves us with Christ.66 Christology is soteriology. Half a Christology will not do, and if Jesus was just another Jew, his death may have been tragic or even impressive, but not saving. Also, if we are not bound to him in faith, he cannot bring us near to God. But if he was God’s Son sent for us and if we are bound to him by the Spirit, then Paul’s words have meaning.

Several facts are foundational:

(1) We can do nothing that will make ourselves acceptable to God.

(2) We deserve the wrath of God because of our self-centeredness and sin.

(3) In the ancient world sacrifice was universally practiced (and still is in many places),67 which reveals the deficiency humans feel in relation to God.

(4) The sacrifice of Christ was the end of sacrifice—at least in places where Christianity had any effect.

These four facts stand true regardless of what one thinks about Christianity. If God does not reverse the human plight, there is no hope. But the message of Ephesians is that God in his love did. We may surmise other ways God could have dealt with sin—ignore it, for example, or require penance or purgatory—but, to say nothing else, all such options are too impersonal. In God’s love “he became what we are in order that we might become what he is.”68 In Christ God drew alongside, entered into the problem caused by evil, took responsibility for evil, and bore its pain and consequence in his own being. Christ came as the representative human being, standing for us all. He came as the promised bringer of peace.

But is focus on blood necessary? There is nothing magical about the word “blood,” despite the way it gets used by some Christians. The word cannot be ignored, but neither should it be overemphasized.69 The blood is not important in itself, but for that to which it refers—the sacrificial death of Christ, which is central to the gospel. We are not free to deemphasize Christ’s death, but we are free to find the best way to communicate the significance of that death for us.

The main problem in understanding Paul’s theology of salvation at the end of the twentieth century is not the complexity of his thought. Rather, our society does not pay much attention to God, nor do people see any real need for God other than to provide quick fixes for minor problems. The solution is not to bash people into recognition of their sin, but to present God’s call to unity in Christ and peace. Humans have an innate need to belong—both to God and to other humans—and the more we focus on ourselves, the more distorted life becomes. Sin and alienation must be defined, but the focus is on the call to be what God created us to be.

Who cares about Israel? This passage assumes the privilege of Israel and is one of the most important passages in the New Testament referring to Israel. Can we just forget about Israel as an unimportant detail in the story? Actually, the relation of Israel to the church is one of the most significant theological problems the early church faced, a problem that is treated to some degree in virtually every New Testament book. Why did not more Jews believe in Jesus? Were God’s promises to Israel still valid and were Jews still elect?

This passage does not answer these questions. It values Israel’s heritage and privilege, but speaks only of unity between Jews and Gentiles in Christ. In fact, it does not discuss unbelieving Jews (on which see Rom. 9–11). But Christians must care about Israel because God’s work did not suddenly begin with the baptism of Jesus. God’s purpose in Christ and his church started with creation, focused on Israel, cannot be separated from Israel, and is equipped with the Scriptures of Israel. The church cannot cut itself off from its Old Testament heritage and the movement of God’s purposes throughout history.

There is another reason this question must be asked. Dispensationalists and their opponents have often debated what Ephesians 2:11–22 teaches concerning the relation of Israel and the church.70 Is the church now in Israel or is it something separate from Israel? Whereas Romans 11:17–24 says Gentile branches are grafted into Israel, this passage speaks of a new being, something that did not exist before, a “third race,” as it were. But what continuity is there then between the old Israel and the new being in Christ? Was Israel removed and the church given its place? Did a remnant of Israel join Gentiles to create a new being, and if so, what about the other Jews? Does God have two groups of his people, both valid, but separate (and thus evangelism of Jews is unnecessary)?

Dispensationalists are eager to keep this text from saying Gentiles are now part of Israel. This text does suggest something new created by Christ, but caution is in order in treating the relation of Israel and the church. Paul was not attempting to answer our questions, and we must avoid letting our questions obfuscate the text. Three facts are clear in the passage:

(1) Israel is assumed to be in a privileged position.

(2) Now Gentiles share in the privilege.

(3) In Christ Jews and Gentiles are joined into one new being.

Beyond this, the text is silent; it does not address the issue of non-Christian Jews. Certainly implications should be drawn about the relation of Christians to Jews, as we will see. But wisdom in interpretation is often in knowing where to stop interpreting, and we ought not force this text to answer questions it does not treat. Rather, it should be joined to others like Romans 9–11 to form a biblical theology treating the subject, a subject that involves issues Paul himself had not fully worked out.

The new being that is created, however, is not the church, nor is it “a third race,” even though this expression is both valuable and open to abuse. The new being is Jesus Christ himself, who as risen Lord incorporates Jews and Gentiles into himself. The fourfold emphasis on being in him in 2:14–16 requires this.

A dead end. This text is inappropriately forced into other theological battles as well. Since 2:20 speaks of prophets as foundational, some say this demonstrates that prophecy ceased after the apostolic period.71 To avoid this conclusion, W. Grudem argued “apostles and prophets” should be understood as “apostles who are also prophets,”72 which is unlikely. This whole discussion abuses the foundation metaphor and pushes the text outside its own boundaries. Whenever we go from the biblical text to the modern world, we must exercise special caution when dealing with metaphors. Sometimes the logic may seem obvious, when in reality the metaphor is pushed beyond anything the author intended. Metaphors are used for specific purposes in context and should be extended only in the direction of the original purpose. Ephesians 2:20 is only concerned to say the church is built on the revelation of the gospel through apostles and prophets. We may not extend this metaphor to solve the debate whether prophets still exist today.

If this barrier, then all barriers. Much of biblical application takes place by analogy. In bridging contexts, we must identify the theology operating in the text, place it in relation to other texts and theologies, and then extend it from the biblical world to our own. The theology operative in 2:11–22 is a theology of unity, in which the barrier between Jew and Gentile is destroyed and oneness is created.73 Today, unless we were born in a Jewish or Palestinian home, we have little awareness of any barrier caused by Judaism. On the other hand, we are conscious of numerous barriers within our society and between our society and that of others that devalue, distrust, limit, and take advantage of other people. If the law in some way was the dividing wall in the ancient world, for us it is racial difference. The hostility between races, especially between blacks and whites, in virtually all countries continues as an embarrassment. Economic and gender barriers also create conflict and add to the alienation. Our world is filled with such barriers.

Did Christ’s death abolish all the barriers? The barrier between Jew and Gentile was one of the most obvious in history. While more intermingling occurred between Jew and Gentile than might be expected,74 the separation and distinction of Jews was clearly defined. Furthermore, this separation was grounded in commands from God. If this barrier has thus been set aside, what other barrier can be justified? If God does not show favoritism (Acts 10:34–35; Rom. 2:11), if all are created in his image, if God’s purpose is unity, if we are to love even our enemies (Matt. 5:44), if Christ took the hostility into himself to destroy it, on what grounds can we justify keeping any barriers in place? Paul and the early church had already extended the unity in Christ to Jew and Gentile, to slave and free, and to male and female (Gal. 3:28). None of our barriers—our ways of devaluing, limiting, and taking advantage of others—has any basis.

The cross is the place where barriers are destroyed. Before the cross we know our own sin, and we cannot stand there without realizing all of us are without defense and have no claim on God. No one has higher value than anyone else. The ground at the cross is level. Any standing we have is God-given, not something that inherently makes us better than others.

An important problem, however, is our inability to think beyond what we already know. Why did Christians during the United States Civil War era on both sides fail to see the significance of Ephesians 2:11–22 for the slavery question? Were they caught up in debates about slavery and equality so that they neglected to remember Christ destroyed the barriers and created unity?75 Do we assume—or love—the barriers so much that we do not hear the text? God’s description of reality ought to be the definition by which we live.

But if barriers are removed in Christ, what about barriers with non-Christians? We must recognize that no barrier that rejects people for who they are is ever justified. All whom we meet are potentially people who will be in Christ and therefore one with us. The grace that has accepted us into Christ is extended to them by us. All people regardless of race or status—however defined—are to be valued, enabled, and treated justly.76

Can we have peace in this world? Similar to the foregoing is the problem concerning peace in this world. On this issue most of us feel like the author of stanza 3 of “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day:”

And in despair I bowed my head:

“There is no peace on earth,” I said,

“For hate is strong, and mocks the song

Of peace on earth, good will to men.”77

Paul here describes God’s reality in Christ against which our reality is seen as an outdated perversion. We cannot deny the reality of this world, but we are defined by the larger reality God has established. Like everything else in Ephesians, peace too is now and not yet. Complete peace will not come until “all things are brought under one head” (1:10), but peace still defines us now. This peace cannot be reduced to a feeling of peace within or to peace of mind, for the text deals with human relations and even sees peace with God in terms of a united people ushered into his presence. “Christ is our peace” means we live in the peace he has established and conveys to us. Both the vertical and the horizontal dimensions of this peace are to be lived in the present.

From individual to corporate. In the treatment of 2:1–10 we saw that Christians can no longer view themselves merely as individuals. They are part of Christ and of each other. In 2:11–22 this theme is emphasized once again, with “one new being” and with the “body” and “building” imagery. The problem is that modern Christians—especially in the Western world—seem to know only individualism. We must change our outlook. This passage confronts our individualism and asserts our involvement with Christ and with those in him. We cannot separate our relation with God from our relation with other people. The two are so interwoven that they do not exist in isolation, even if we rightly argue the relationship with God is primary. The horizontal and vertical dimensions interact with and define each other. Even in approaching God in confession and repentance, we have already acted on the horizontal plane.

This text is not about people going to heaven or about the church as a group of individuals gathered for mutual support. As important as these are, the goal is for people to be joined to each other in Christ and given access to God in the present. As we will see especially in relation to 4:3, unity is a given from which we live.

The church is a corporate reality. Earlier we stressed that Christology is soteriology, but now it becomes clear that Christology is soteriology is ecclesiology is ethics. These theological categories are not separate subjects put into containers for analysis; they are aspects of the same reality of being bound to Christ. Christ incorporates people into his own being, his death, and his resurrection, and therein lies their salvation. But in him they are a corporate reality (a new being, a body, a temple), which results in a church of people bound to each other in Christ. Because they are bound to each other in him, they take their character from him and live out the fact that they belong to each other. This is the root of the love, care, and justice Christians are to show.

Contemporary Significance

AS IN PREVIOUS sections, we have a text that does not specifically ask anything of us. No imperative is given regarding any act or attitude (other than remembering). All the focus is on the change Christ accomplished and the privilege of new life in him. At the same time, however, the relevance of this passage for Christian living and for the church is enormous.

Remember your identity. Memory enables life by providing an understanding of reality within which we live. We remember pain, enjoyment, people, information, and events in order to make appropriate choices for the present and future. Some memories we choose; others are burned into us by the sheer force of the event. Memories can be paths to success or scars that disable. Sometimes we choose to forget painful parts of life, but often only succeed in repressing the memory until a later, possibly more difficult, time. We also make choices in remembering as to how much attention will be given to particular painful or enjoyable events. Remembering is the way we name and process the past, the way we structure our minds to know how to live.

Paul asks that we remember the life-determining change Christ has brought in us—that is, the radical movement from being dead in sins to life in Christ, from being excluded to being included, for this movement is still at work in our lives every day. Such remembering gives attention to the continuing change at work in us and will not allow us to become lax or guilty of pride. Remembering is therefore the key to loving and worshiping God. Balance is required, however. We do not remember the former life for its own sake or to wallow in its memory. It no longer determines us. We focus instead on Christ and the change he has brought.

For some people past memories are so painful that they cannot be forgotten, and no suggestion is made that such memories can be easily erased. But Christians must know that the only event that defines us is Christ’s death and resurrection, in which we are involved. We die to self—both the sinful self and the self sinned against—and rise to new life in Christ. Here too the now and not yet character of faith is present. The old reality still must be faced, but newness in Christ is the defining force.

A woman who has been raped cannot forget the violation against her, but must the violation continue as an open wound or scar preventing life? Or can life defined by Christ bring healing and wholeness? Does betrayal necessarily lead to cynicism and mistrust, or does definition come from elsewhere? Does sin define us or does Christ? We cannot always choose what happens to us, but we can choose—at least to some degree—what power it will be granted. If this sounds cavalier, a glance at 2 Corinthians 11:22–33 shows it is not. Paul was exposed to unbelievable suffering and humiliation; but for all its impact, Christ was still his defining reality, and some of his letters do not even betray that he has suffered.

Remembering requires attention; it does not happen automatically. To apply this text means that time will be given to thinking, reading, discussing, and learning about the change God has brought. Remembering will lead to prayer and an awareness of God’s presence and his involvement in what we do.

A warning for Christians. Christians enjoy enormous privilege in being taken into the family of God, but such a thought is open to serious abuse, abuse so common that use of such language becomes problematic. Far too frequently Christians view privilege as something they possess, forgetting that the gift ought never to be separated from the Giver.78 We possess nothing but the Christ to whom we are bound. Any privilege comes from him and is known only in him. When we forget this, we distort the faith and overestimate ourselves.

Ephesians 2:11–12 serves as a strong warning to Christians, for we are as vulnerable to the failures of the Jews as they were. Unfortunately, much name-calling takes place within the church. When we label someone pejoratively, we too are acting “in the flesh”—in a merely human way that does not involve God. We also have our religious badges that demean and exclude, just as circumcision did for the Jews. Our sense of privilege turns into a “holier than thou” attitude that makes healthy relations impossible. When we communicate division and disdain, are not our religious acts also “made from human hands”?

My own Southern Baptist denomination is torn by strife. Actions taken on all sides have not been done in a Christian manner. Do we not have to say, “This is a baptism in the flesh, made from human hands”? Unfortunately, much Christian action falls in this category, but we cannot live as Christians while behaving in a non-Christian manner. If we do not show the same love and grace as the One into whose family we have been brought, we betray that we do not really belong in the home. We are still estranged from God while performing religious acts.

Application of this text occurs in humility and repentance, followed by serious family talk about how we communicate who we are. How can we keep privilege, obedience, and righteous action from bringing division, disdain, and name-calling? “Holier than thou” attitudes are almost impossible to stop and are often unperceived by the “holy.” We cannot draw people to Christ while inadvertently belittling them. Privilege should lead to thanksgiving, not arrogance. Once again a sense of grace is the key. Grace excludes pride and extends itself to others in need.

We belong. Throughout life, most of us have some sense of not belonging, and we feel unaccepted and inferior. The drive to identify with someone, some group, or some cause deemed important—even if it is only a sports team—is enormous. Such identifications make us feel important. We need to belong, to have some sense of fit in the world, and from a sense of belonging comes the ability to relate and accomplish things. Our own families are, of course, primary in giving us a sense of belonging.

This text says we do belong. Christ brought us home to God. We live in God’s house as members of his family, and at the same time we are a house in which God lives (2:19–22). We belong with God and are involved in what he is doing. The other people in the house are family with us. This home defines us. Christ has given us place in his world, and from that sense of belonging comes a growing ability to relate and accomplish the tasks to which we are called. This texts asks that we remember where home is: We are at home with God.

From here all else in the Christian life flows. The church as a family of faith should have the feel of family. Family members care for each other, are committed to each other, confront each other, and sustain each other. A sense of family should shape our worship. Worship should not be like a production we watch; rather, we need the comfort and freedom of being involved in a family experience, joining together to communicate with God, to address and be addressed. No one should be allowed to feel like an outsider in the church; all people need to know they belong.

The barriers are down; Christians live with God. Consciously or unconsciously people—even those who believe in Christ—can think of God as distant and unapproachable. This lack of a sense of the nearness to God lies at the root of much of human failure. Yet even before faith, God is never distant from us, as Paul reminded the Athenians (Acts 17:27) and as the psalmist testified (Ps. 139:7–12). The language of nearness is, of course, metaphorical, and we need to distinguish language about God’s presence prior to faith and our being brought near in Christ. In the former, God is the holy, gracious God seeking people, but his holiness is also an overwhelming presence. In Christ, however, we have been brought to God, and the barriers blocking access to him, such as sin, hostility, and the weakness of the flesh have been removed.

Peace, access, nearness, and reconciliation all emphasize that the barriers between God and us have been removed. But what does the text want us to do with this information? Nothing explicit is said, but several implications are present.

(1) We live with God and he with us. We communicate with God, and his presence shapes us. Once again faith is shown to be relational, not a decision or set of beliefs.

(2) Life, salvation, and resources for life flow from God to those with him. This is not a “health and wealth” theology, but a recognition that God is the giver of all good things.

(3) Worship and thanksgiving are a natural part of life.

(4) The character of God is our guide. What is implicit in this text will be made explicit in 5:1: Christians are to imitate their God.

The barriers are down; Christians are joined. The attitude of this world is best expressed in the phrase, “You’re different from me, and I resent you for that.”79 We create barriers between races, nations, religions, genders, social and economic classes, denominations, schools, communities, teams, and families. Differentiation is necessary for identity, but the human tendency to create barriers is a distortion and a sin. Distinction and uniqueness do not have to lead to division. The erection of barriers results from the ways we attribute value, that is, by devaluing those who are different.

Even before being in Christ, humans have more in common than they do differently. All are made in the image of God, have the same needs, and experience the same distortion from sin. But especially in Christ no ground exists for barriers or divisions—not along racial, sexual, cultural, or any other lines. We are one with all others in Christ whether we like it or not. To maintain divisions is to deny what Christ has accomplished.

Application requires a change of mind. The markers that define us must give way to the one determining marker that says who we are—Christ himself. The other markers may be real, but they neither define us nor divide us from other people in Christ. All people stand with the same value before God, and we belong to the same family with other believers.

The race problem. Nowhere is this theology more important for modern Christians than in dealing with racial hostility. Christians of other races are part of us, and divisions cannot be allowed to continue. The racial barrier is like a festering wound in the body of Christ. We may no longer have separate drinking fountains such as I witnessed as a child—one marked “Whites only” and another marked “Colored only.” Yet racial hostility boils just under the surface in the United States and many other countries, and Christians contribute to the problem. Sunday is often the most segregated day of the week, for Christians worship along racial lines.

The perversion of both active and passive racism must be challenged and stopped. The church must be a place where people know the barriers have been removed, can find solace, and can deal with racial injustice. The witness of the church is at stake. When people are told either implicitly or explicitly that they are not welcome in a church because of their color, the church has become an absurd place.

Racism will have to be treated on two levels, both as a general societal problem and specifically within the body of Christ. Racism in any form is prohibited by the equality of all people before God and by his unrestricted love. But the theology of the body of Christ deals with the issue at another level. The point is not merely that all Christians are equal; rather, the point is that all Christians have been joined, which has far more significance and impact.

If the barriers are down and we are joined to other believers, then several responses are required from Christians. (1) Acceptance and valuing people of other races on an equal level is a necessity. An attitude that says in effect, “They are not our kind,” destroys the body of Christ. Since all of us operate with such attitudes, an ongoing repentance is prerequisite.

(2) In addition, we will need investment in Christians of other races. We cannot accept and value what we do not know or care about. We need to demonstrate that other groups matter to us. The unity cannot be merely a theoretical unity, but must be put into practice.

(3) We need to seek justice for other groups as well. Questions about justice are often complicated—witness the debate over illegal immigrants—but the church should be leading the discussion about justice and compassion so that whole groups of people are not placed on a second tier. Racism has to be named, confronted, and rejected.

(4) Finally, some level of sharing among Christians must take place. Unity does not exist without involvement. Hands need to be joined in worship, in learning, in ministering to needs, and in evangelism. The most significant witness to the love of Christ lies in the ability of Christians of various races to care for each other and work together.

Male and female. From the ancient world on, barriers between the sexes were created for two primary reasons: to prevent abuse of women and because women are viewed as inferior. Today radical feminists, in reaction to centuries of abuse, have deepened the hostility between the sexes. Here too the witness of the church is at stake. Christians need to show that in Christ relations are different, that women are not devalued and are not to be used or abused, and that the barrier has been destroyed in Christ. Women should not have to fear abuse but should feel as accepted and valued as men are. Here, as elsewhere, the not-yet character of faith lived in this world may be all too obvious, but the church must be the place where people experience the now in the presence of the not yet. Women must know they are fully part of the body of Christ and that barriers do not prohibit their full participation.

One of the most sacred sites for Jews is the so-called “wailing wall” in Jerusalem, a retaining wall from the temple mount in Jesus’ day. Anyone who has seen this wall knows that a rail stands to separate men who pray on the left from women who pray on the right.80 Churches are not so obvious, but Christians have for too long categorized women differently. This text will not allow the barrier to continue.

Many other barriers exist in our society, such as education, social standing, and economics. The differences will not go away, but the church must think through the fact that the differences should not divide us or make anyone feel less valuable.

Two wrong turns. At times Christians have argued that unity in Christ is a “spiritual” reality and does not require involvement with other groups. Separation of the “spiritual” from the “secular” cannot be tolerated. Such attempts avoid the implications of the gospel. That which is spiritual affects, rather directs, all of life. One has only to look at Paul’s confronting Peter over not eating with Gentiles (Gal. 2:11–14); unity in Christ has to do with sitting at table together. The church cannot be allowed to exist in self-selected and self-serving groups.

Second, some have concluded that since the barriers are down, Christians need not evangelize Jews. The relation between Jews and Christians is a delicate issue, both because Christians exist only because of their Jewish heritage and because of the holocaust in Nazi Germany. From an exegetical standpoint, the unity about which the text speaks is unity between Jewish Christians and Gentile Christians—not unity between Jews and Christians. This is a unity in Christ. Paul certainly did not hesitate to seek the conversion of Jews, and neither should we, given the humility and respect that is needed for any work of evangelism.81

However, no ground exists for even a hint of anti-Semitism, a sin that too easily appears among Christians. The implicit message that Jews should be punished because they crucified Christ is theologically naive. The Jews as a race are no more responsible for the death of Christ than any other race, and we should be careful in describing the crucifixion that Jews do not become scapegoats. They are like the rest of us, needing a Savior.

United, not uniform. Paul’s emphasis on unity does not mean all Christians are alike. Unity in Christ does not negate differences, cultural uniqueness, or the value of culture. Jews in Christ do not become Gentiles, nor do Gentiles become Jewish Christians. Women do not become men, or vice versa, and people do not suddenly all have the same abilities. Paul’s body theology assumes both unity and diversity (1 Cor. 12:14–26).

Once again, the issue of the relation of gospel and culture enters the discussion.82 Enjoying one’s own culture is to be expected, and we choose like-minded people for good reasons. The homogeneous principle of church growth, which has churches target groups culturally similar to themselves, is understandable. Communication requires similarity, and like attracts like. Worship is a cultural expression and has most impact when framed in culturally specific ways. No one should be surprised or find fault that blacks are more comfortable in black churches, Koreans in Korean churches, and whites in white churches.

But the barriers are down, and the homogeneous principle—for all its practicality—cannot guide the church. Cultural preferences must take a backseat to unity in Christ. The most important issue is always identity: What is the strongest defining reality for us—Christ or culture? Culture is important—indeed, a necessary part of the fabric of our lives—but Christ, not culture, gives the primary definition to life. Culture is the means by which Christ is expressed, but the message is Christ himself. Do ethnic churches exist to preserve a culture or to promote Christ? Often one gets the impression that the real center of all our churches is our culture, not our Lord. That attitude needs to change.

Churches need to be astute enough to know when they are using culture, when they are adapting culture, and when they must confront culture.83 Churches must demonstrate that the barriers are down. That most churches are culturally monolithic is an embarrassment. Church members must show they care about other people in Christ, even if they are different culturally, economically, politically, or socially. A monolithic church in a multicultural context is a failure. Churches need to demonstrate unity with Christians of other cultures, to seek justice, and to evangelize across cultural and racial lines. We have to show the barriers are down.

The church is a peace institute. The peace discussed in this text is not about good inner feelings; it is about relations. Far too many people have distorted ideas about religion, that religion is what they do when they are alone, quiet, and thinking of God. They forget that the vertical relation with God is bound to and expressed in horizontal relations with people. Note too that the text does not say, “He is my peace”; it says, “He is our peace.” A church is a group of people who know this and embody peace in anticipation of that day when God establishes peace in all his creation. In the church God’s work of peace has a beachhead and is already represented. Christians by definition are people of peace. That does not mean we are passive or quiescent. On the contrary, as people of peace we by necessity struggle for justice.

In our churches peace is rarely given value. We have assumed our culture’s insecurity to such a degree that peace is relegated to end time eschatology. Premium value is placed on “doing it my way” and “believing as I say.” Christians are marked more by division than peace. But if peace was a criterion by which Paul solved problems, then peace should have regulative force for us too. It should both rule our hearts and our churches. In the church peace should get a chance. Numerous schools for war exist, and both amateurs and scholars study wars. Few people study peace. The church should be a place where people study and practice peace. But again a caution is in order. Peace does not mean passivity. If Isaiah 57:21 reminds us “there is no peace for the wicked,” then focusing on peace will mean focusing on righteousness and justice.84

Christians are a corporate group. Modern evangelicals tend to focus on Christianity as a religion of the individual. The failure of the church has often driven people to this option, but the New Testament knows nothing of “lone ranger” Christianity. The individual and the faith of the individual are both important, but the Christian faith is a corporate religion. When one is baptized into Christ, one is baptized into the body of Christ (1 Cor. 12:13; Gal. 3:27–28). This part of the reality of faith should not be neglected. People do relate to God as individuals, but the focus is corporate.85 In the horizontal relation the vertical relation is lived out. The gospel needs to be presented in such a way that people realize its sociological dimensions.

The division in the church into so many groups is a scandal. I am not suggesting all parts of the church should agree. Nor is the goal to form structures of unity; rather, the goal is living unity in Christ. Far too often Christians are more interested in their brand of Christianity than in Christ. They are Lutheran, Baptist, or whatever before they are Christian, and anyone else is, at best, misguided. Without focusing on structures, must not the church focus on unity in Christ? Must not the church be both evangelical and ecumenical?

To focus on unity has nothing to do with being weak on doctrine. Unity is itself a theological necessity. Christians cannot sacrifice the essence of the gospel to attain unity, for that would not be Christian unity. Most of our divisions, however, occurred without justification and were usually accompanied by non-Christian attitudes and acts. We must be ready to tolerate disagreement as we enjoy unity. Obviously central tenets of the faith—such as the authority of Scriptures, the deity of Christ, and the death and resurrection of Christ—should not be diminished, for without these central features we no longer have a Christian church.

Holding staunchly to correct doctrine is not sufficient to defend the faith. Do we not as staunchly need to hold to Christian attitudes and practices and to unity? Why do the so-called defenders of orthodoxy have such a difficult time showing grace? Is it impossible to be both orthodox and magnanimous at the same time? Orthodoxy ought to make people gracious. The key is in seeing that both the content of belief and the conduct of belief are determined by Christ.

The church is centered on Christ. Communities can exist for a variety of reasons, but the Christian church exists only because of Christ and his purposes. Christianity is a religion centered on a person. The church gathers around the character of Christ, not the characteristics of the people. Apart from the significance of his death and resurrection, the church has no reason to exist. The church is a community and has traditions and rituals, but it is not about any of these things. The church is about Jesus Christ, and the other pieces of the picture exist to display the role of Christ in the church. It is possible to be Jewish and to observe events such as the Passover Seder without religious commitment to Judaism. The Christian community, however, has no other reason to exist other than Christ himself. He is our peace, the one in whom all are united, the one who gives access to God, and the cornerstone on whom the building grows.

Consequently, the activities of a church should reflect this central focus on Christ. Only then can believers fulfill their mission. This suggestion is not limiting, for Christ is the focal point of God’s purposes and the one in whom all things are brought together (1:10). The church’s agenda is not a collection of meaningful ideas and projects. The church’s agenda is Christ, in whom all subjects are placed in order.

As a result, teaching and preaching about Christ must be the focus. This is implicit in Christ’s preaching peace in 2:17 and in the mention of “apostles and prophets” in 2:20. Just as this whole passage emphasizes what Christ accomplished, so the church proclaims his message of peace both far and near and teaches people the implications of the change he brings. A church communicates Christ both in speech and action, or it has ceased to be a church.

The sociological dimensions of this text rule out any division of evangelism and social justice. Such a dichotomy should never have been allowed. Neither can evangelism be viewed as anxiety-driven speech-persuading decisions. Evangelism is the authentic living out of life with Christ in word and act. Unfortunately, churches too frequently become uncomfortable about presenting Christ and fall into a maintenance mode. They are the ones who need most to heed this text with its call to remember the change and its Christocentric focus on the privileges Christ brings.

The church is the people. Even when we know better, we tend to think of the church as either a physical structure or a denominational entity, both of which exist to produce programs. Such meanings of the word church are derived meanings. Even in the New Testament the word ekklesia is used of a non-Christian “assembly,”86 and Paul may have intended no more than “assembly” or “gathering” when he applied the word to Christians. Neither physical structures nor denominations are necessary to have a church. The people are the stones that make up this building in which God dwells.87

My comments are not intended to disparage physical buildings or denominations. Conducive space enables worship and ministry, and organizations can facilitate tasks, but neither is the church. If we remember the church is the people, several implications follow. (1) Church is no longer perceived as a program that some people put on for others to watch. The people are participants, joining together to worship and to have fellowship with God, who is present with them as a group. (2) Ministry is for everyone, not merely the clergy. The people are the temple in which God dwells. (3) Value is placed on people. Sometimes the impression is given that people are dispensable, as long as the building is maintained and the programs keep going. The average church in the United States devotes the majority of its funds to its building and internal operations. What if we invested in people as much as in our buildings and systems?

An actor sitting in a theatre looked around him and said, “This is my church.” Everyone has a church, the place you go for definition and to assert your allegiances. For some people it is a bar, for some a stadium; for Christians it is the place where Christ is the norm and where allegiance is paid to him.

Original Meaning

The People of God as the Dwelling of God (2:19–22)

THIS SECTION PROVIDES a summary conclusion to the preceding material, but also extends the ideas by developing the building and temple imagery. The alienation and separation of Gentiles described in 2:12 are reversed in 2:19. (Note the switch back to “you.”) Gentiles are “no longer foreigners and aliens,”50 outsiders cut off from God’s purposes; rather, they are citizens along with God’s people and are part of God’s household—in effect, family members.51

The language in 2:20–22 shifts without warning from speaking of a family to describing a building, which is then defined more narrowly as a temple. This shift is facilitated in the Greek by a multiple wordplay on the oikos (“house”) word group. Gentile Christians are no longer “aliens” (paroikoi); they are “members of God’s household” (oikeioi), “built on” (epoikodomethentes) a sure foundation, and the “building” (oikodome) … is “built together” (synoikodomeisthe).52

In 2:5–6 we noted three “with” (syn) words associating Christ and believers. Here in 2:19–22 three more “with” words appear: “fellow citizens” (sympolitai), “joined together” (synarmologeo), and “built together” (synoikodomeo). The focus is not on being joined to Christ, however, but on being joined to God’s people.53

The expression “God’s people” (2:19) is literally “the holy ones.” Is Paul referring to spiritual Israel, to Jews, to Jewish Christians, to all believers, or even to angels? The NIV’s “God’s people” is appropriate. Paul’s intent is merely that those excluded are now included in the privileges Israel has enjoyed. In this text he is not discussing the implications of Israel’s failure to believe. It is fair to say the Gentiles do not become Israel; they share with Israel.

The new temple (2:20–22). Jewish and early Christian tradition viewed the people of God as a spiritual temple, focusing on several Old Testament quotations about stones—texts understood as referring to the end time and the Messiah.54 The building is “built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets” (2:20). “Prophets” almost certainly refers not to Old Testament but to New Testament prophets. This is demonstrated both by the order (“apostles and prophets”) and by the reference in 3:4–5 to the mystery, which to other generations was not made known, but which now has been revealed to his “holy apostles and prophets.” “Apostles” refers to that rather limited group who were witnesses of the resurrected Lord and were authoritative carriers and interpreters of the Christian tradition (the Twelve, Paul, and a few others). These two groups are singled out because they are recipients of revelation (see also 4:11–16).

The “foundation of the apostles and prophets” is capable of several nuances. Theoretically it could mean the foundation the apostles and prophets laid, the foundation they have, or the foundation they make up.55 Given that Christ Jesus is the cornerstone, almost certainly the intent is to refer to the foundation the apostles and prophets make up. They are part of the foundation on which the church exists.56 This verse shows in personified terms the respect Paul and others had for the Christian tradition (cf. 1 Cor. 15:3–4; Col. 2:6–7). The teaching of the apostles and prophets is the basis on which the church rests. All Christians, as part of the building, are founded on the revelation and instruction conveyed by these people.57

Jesus Christ occupies a unique place in the foundation as the “cornerstone” (akrogoniaios). This designation may seem strange and inadequate to do justice to the role of Christ unless one knows the background and significance of the term. This is no ceremonial cornerstone in which items are placed and on which a date is stamped, as we often use the word. Nor does it refer to a keystone or capstone crowning the top of the building—despite the number of commentators who have chosen this option. In the LXX this Greek word occurs only in Isaiah 28:16, where it clearly refers to a foundation stone, and it does not occur in the New Testament except in quotations of Isaiah 28:16. Cornerstones in ancient buildings were the primary load-bearing stones that determined the lines of the building. Such stones have been found in Palestine, one weighing as much as 570 tons (see also 1 Kings 7:10).58

But the cornerstone image gained an importance far beyond its architectural connotations. Isaiah 28:16 was significant because it promised security in a time of destruction. Even if a flood came and washed everything away, the cornerstone provided a place of refuge. This verse was understood eschatologically in pre-Christian Judaism, as the Qumran references show.59 In all probability the LXX had already understood Isaiah 28:16 as referring to the Messiah, an interpretation also present in the Isaiah Targum.60 Early Christians found “the cornerstone” a fitting title pointing to the Messiah (see also Rom. 9:32–33; 10:11; 1 Peter 2:4–8).

The Old Testament stone quotations (Ps. 118:22; Isa. 8:14; 28:16) provided the early church with significant material for Christology, soteriology, and ecclesiology, which served to solve several theological issues.61 Christ is not just another stone in the foundation alongside the apostles and prophets. His position is different. Whereas the apostles and prophets are mentioned because of their teaching, Christ is mentioned because of his person and work. He makes the whole building possible, including the rest of the foundation. He is the promised place of security on which the community of God is built.

Not only is the building built on Christ Jesus the cornerstone, the whole building exists in him as well.62 Both 2:21 and 2:22 begin and end with “in” (en) prepositional phrases: In him the building is bound together and grows into a temple in the Lord; in him the Gentiles are built together with the Jews to be a dwelling of God in the Spirit (NIV, “by his Spirit”). The repetition with “in” underscores that all this union with God and other people takes place in Christ. He is the one who unites and in whose being God is encountered. Life in Christ means unity with God and the other people in Christ, and the resultant union is the place where God chooses to reside.

Implicit already in the use of Isaiah 28:16 is that this building is a temple. Temple ideas are also present in 2:13–14, and 18, but what is implicit before becomes explicit here. God’s people are God’s temple. The ones formerly kept out of the temple now are the temple.

While 1 Corinthians 6:19 refers to the individual as the temple of God, usually (as here) the people are corporately God’s temple (cf. 1 Cor. 3:16–17; 2 Cor. 6:16). The purpose of the physical temple in Jerusalem was to show that God had taken up residence with his people. The New Testament emphasizes the replacement of the Jerusalem temple with Christ and his followers. “One greater than the temple is here” (Matt. 12:6; see also John 2:19–22).63 Note the Trinitarian focus of this temple discussion: In Christ and through the Spirit we experience the presence of God.

The temple is a “holy” temple because God dwells there; it is a temple set aside by and for God. The word “holy” (hagios) has already occurred in verse 19 as the word used for “God’s people,” to whom the Gentiles are joined. The temple is holy and the people who make up this temple are “the holy ones.” They are set apart by and for God.

Once again Ephesians stresses that life is relational. In Christ separation is broken down and relations with God and his people are established. This is not merely some act in the past, but life with God in the present.

Bridging Contexts

A MAJOR ASSUMPTION in applying Scripture is that people in the ancient world were essentially the same as we are. We see the continuity from one generation to another, and we see ourselves in the text. This commonality is what makes it possible for us to take an ancient text and bring it into our context, recognizing, of course, differences between their world and ours.

Should we remember or forget? Ephesians 2:11 is unique in the New Testament, for it is the only text that explicitly tells us to remember our former plight. How does this message fit with Philippians 3:13–14, which tells us to forget what is behind? Actually, both texts have the same concern—a life shaped by Christ. Philippians emphasizes Christ as the focus and goal that determines all we do. In 3:5–11, however, Paul does the same thing he asks in Ephesians 2:11: He remembers his past and the reordering of his life to gain Christ. In Ephesians he not only wants people to remember their former plight, but also what they have become.

Memory is a wonderful gift from God that enables life; without it true living is virtually impossible. Remembering structures our minds to live for God. It frames our identity and sets us on course for life in Christ. We need to remember sin, for part of sin’s delusion is that it keeps us unaware of sin. We need also to remember the biblical stories and the content of the faith. In the Lord’s Supper we remember Christ’s death and resurrection, and we remember the change worked within us. Remembering is a way to deal with our pride and self-sufficiency and also to keep connected to God.

Old problems in new dress. The mention of circumcision, uncircumcision, blood, and Israel all seem foreign—if not barbaric—and are of little obvious relevance for us. But the problems described continue to be deeply rooted human problems that vex us all: alienation, division, name-calling, separation from God and his purposes, and hopelessness. As long as these problems continue, people will know loneliness, fracture, lack of trust, and discouragement. Note the description of sin as alienation, fracture, and purposelessness (2:11–12). From these problems come a host of other sins, such as envy, hatred, lying, conflict, abuse, murder, and war.

Note too how the problem of alienation was rooted in religious privilege. The text both assumes the legitimacy of Israel’s privilege and sees that privilege as part of the problem. Much of the world’s animosity and conflict is caused by religion, and a glance at church history shows painfully that Christians have been excessively guilty. But does a sense of privilege from God inevitably lead to arrogance and division? In applying this text we must ensure that privilege leads to unity, not division.

Ancient Judaism saw circumcision as the primary symbol of obedience to the Torah, of belonging to God, and of purity.64 Old Testament faith and Judaism were always concerned with separation from the surrounding people, and practices such as circumcision, Sabbath keeping, food, and other purity laws marked out their differences. These distinctions created difficulties in social relations. The disdain that Jews had for the uncircumcised and impure exacerbated the problem, and, as one might expect, non-Jews retaliated with equal disdain and disparagement.65 But Jewish practices grew out of the reality of God’s election and purposes for Israel. The privilege Israel enjoyed was real; the arrogance and disdain were a failure.

Looking at this ancient problem is like looking in a mirror. The church too enjoys privilege, but has handled it no better. Conflicts within denominations, across denominations, and between Christians and non-Christians are commonplace. Circumcision is no longer the focus, but name-calling, disparagement, and alienation still occur. Too often religious practice is “in the flesh,” merely human, made from human hands as fully as any physical circumcision. Not much progress has been made since Ephesians.

But the description of alienation resulting from privilege is only a part of 2:11–13. The focus on deprivation must also be considered. Much of the world still stands where these Gentiles stood—apart from God, with no involvement in his purposes, and with no hope. When God is left out of the picture, life really is bleak and boring. People stand on the sidelines of life, trying to keep fit and to be entertained. Little reason exists to focus on anything other than self, but that leads to alienation and division and ultimately to despair. People need to hear God calling them into the game; they need to hear God calling them to peace.

How can Christ bring us near to God? Must we still think of sacrifice as essential to bring us to God? Is blood still a necessary ingredient for salvation? How can Christ take human hostility into himself and bring us to God? Questions about Christ’s death for us are difficult. They cannot be diminished, for at stake is the very heart of Christianity. The language of Ephesians is not archaic language that may be set aside, for it points to the fundamentals of the faith. Paul’s discussion about Christ’s saving death assumes a Christology and a faith that involves us with Christ.66 Christology is soteriology. Half a Christology will not do, and if Jesus was just another Jew, his death may have been tragic or even impressive, but not saving. Also, if we are not bound to him in faith, he cannot bring us near to God. But if he was God’s Son sent for us and if we are bound to him by the Spirit, then Paul’s words have meaning.

Several facts are foundational:

(1) We can do nothing that will make ourselves acceptable to God.

(2) We deserve the wrath of God because of our self-centeredness and sin.

(3) In the ancient world sacrifice was universally practiced (and still is in many places),67 which reveals the deficiency humans feel in relation to God.

(4) The sacrifice of Christ was the end of sacrifice—at least in places where Christianity had any effect.

These four facts stand true regardless of what one thinks about Christianity. If God does not reverse the human plight, there is no hope. But the message of Ephesians is that God in his love did. We may surmise other ways God could have dealt with sin—ignore it, for example, or require penance or purgatory—but, to say nothing else, all such options are too impersonal. In God’s love “he became what we are in order that we might become what he is.”68 In Christ God drew alongside, entered into the problem caused by evil, took responsibility for evil, and bore its pain and consequence in his own being. Christ came as the representative human being, standing for us all. He came as the promised bringer of peace.

But is focus on blood necessary? There is nothing magical about the word “blood,” despite the way it gets used by some Christians. The word cannot be ignored, but neither should it be overemphasized.69 The blood is not important in itself, but for that to which it refers—the sacrificial death of Christ, which is central to the gospel. We are not free to deemphasize Christ’s death, but we are free to find the best way to communicate the significance of that death for us.

The main problem in understanding Paul’s theology of salvation at the end of the twentieth century is not the complexity of his thought. Rather, our society does not pay much attention to God, nor do people see any real need for God other than to provide quick fixes for minor problems. The solution is not to bash people into recognition of their sin, but to present God’s call to unity in Christ and peace. Humans have an innate need to belong—both to God and to other humans—and the more we focus on ourselves, the more distorted life becomes. Sin and alienation must be defined, but the focus is on the call to be what God created us to be.

Who cares about Israel? This passage assumes the privilege of Israel and is one of the most important passages in the New Testament referring to Israel. Can we just forget about Israel as an unimportant detail in the story? Actually, the relation of Israel to the church is one of the most significant theological problems the early church faced, a problem that is treated to some degree in virtually every New Testament book. Why did not more Jews believe in Jesus? Were God’s promises to Israel still valid and were Jews still elect?

This passage does not answer these questions. It values Israel’s heritage and privilege, but speaks only of unity between Jews and Gentiles in Christ. In fact, it does not discuss unbelieving Jews (on which see Rom. 9–11). But Christians must care about Israel because God’s work did not suddenly begin with the baptism of Jesus. God’s purpose in Christ and his church started with creation, focused on Israel, cannot be separated from Israel, and is equipped with the Scriptures of Israel. The church cannot cut itself off from its Old Testament heritage and the movement of God’s purposes throughout history.

There is another reason this question must be asked. Dispensationalists and their opponents have often debated what Ephesians 2:11–22 teaches concerning the relation of Israel and the church.70 Is the church now in Israel or is it something separate from Israel? Whereas Romans 11:17–24 says Gentile branches are grafted into Israel, this passage speaks of a new being, something that did not exist before, a “third race,” as it were. But what continuity is there then between the old Israel and the new being in Christ? Was Israel removed and the church given its place? Did a remnant of Israel join Gentiles to create a new being, and if so, what about the other Jews? Does God have two groups of his people, both valid, but separate (and thus evangelism of Jews is unnecessary)?

Dispensationalists are eager to keep this text from saying Gentiles are now part of Israel. This text does suggest something new created by Christ, but caution is in order in treating the relation of Israel and the church. Paul was not attempting to answer our questions, and we must avoid letting our questions obfuscate the text. Three facts are clear in the passage:

(1) Israel is assumed to be in a privileged position.

(2) Now Gentiles share in the privilege.

(3) In Christ Jews and Gentiles are joined into one new being.

Beyond this, the text is silent; it does not address the issue of non-Christian Jews. Certainly implications should be drawn about the relation of Christians to Jews, as we will see. But wisdom in interpretation is often in knowing where to stop interpreting, and we ought not force this text to answer questions it does not treat. Rather, it should be joined to others like Romans 9–11 to form a biblical theology treating the subject, a subject that involves issues Paul himself had not fully worked out.

The new being that is created, however, is not the church, nor is it “a third race,” even though this expression is both valuable and open to abuse. The new being is Jesus Christ himself, who as risen Lord incorporates Jews and Gentiles into himself. The fourfold emphasis on being in him in 2:14–16 requires this.

A dead end. This text is inappropriately forced into other theological battles as well. Since 2:20 speaks of prophets as foundational, some say this demonstrates that prophecy ceased after the apostolic period.71 To avoid this conclusion, W. Grudem argued “apostles and prophets” should be understood as “apostles who are also prophets,”72 which is unlikely. This whole discussion abuses the foundation metaphor and pushes the text outside its own boundaries. Whenever we go from the biblical text to the modern world, we must exercise special caution when dealing with metaphors. Sometimes the logic may seem obvious, when in reality the metaphor is pushed beyond anything the author intended. Metaphors are used for specific purposes in context and should be extended only in the direction of the original purpose. Ephesians 2:20 is only concerned to say the church is built on the revelation of the gospel through apostles and prophets. We may not extend this metaphor to solve the debate whether prophets still exist today.

If this barrier, then all barriers. Much of biblical application takes place by analogy. In bridging contexts, we must identify the theology operating in the text, place it in relation to other texts and theologies, and then extend it from the biblical world to our own. The theology operative in 2:11–22 is a theology of unity, in which the barrier between Jew and Gentile is destroyed and oneness is created.73 Today, unless we were born in a Jewish or Palestinian home, we have little awareness of any barrier caused by Judaism. On the other hand, we are conscious of numerous barriers within our society and between our society and that of others that devalue, distrust, limit, and take advantage of other people. If the law in some way was the dividing wall in the ancient world, for us it is racial difference. The hostility between races, especially between blacks and whites, in virtually all countries continues as an embarrassment. Economic and gender barriers also create conflict and add to the alienation. Our world is filled with such barriers.

Did Christ’s death abolish all the barriers? The barrier between Jew and Gentile was one of the most obvious in history. While more intermingling occurred between Jew and Gentile than might be expected,74 the separation and distinction of Jews was clearly defined. Furthermore, this separation was grounded in commands from God. If this barrier has thus been set aside, what other barrier can be justified? If God does not show favoritism (Acts 10:34–35; Rom. 2:11), if all are created in his image, if God’s purpose is unity, if we are to love even our enemies (Matt. 5:44), if Christ took the hostility into himself to destroy it, on what grounds can we justify keeping any barriers in place? Paul and the early church had already extended the unity in Christ to Jew and Gentile, to slave and free, and to male and female (Gal. 3:28). None of our barriers—our ways of devaluing, limiting, and taking advantage of others—has any basis.

The cross is the place where barriers are destroyed. Before the cross we know our own sin, and we cannot stand there without realizing all of us are without defense and have no claim on God. No one has higher value than anyone else. The ground at the cross is level. Any standing we have is God-given, not something that inherently makes us better than others.

An important problem, however, is our inability to think beyond what we already know. Why did Christians during the United States Civil War era on both sides fail to see the significance of Ephesians 2:11–22 for the slavery question? Were they caught up in debates about slavery and equality so that they neglected to remember Christ destroyed the barriers and created unity?75 Do we assume—or love—the barriers so much that we do not hear the text? God’s description of reality ought to be the definition by which we live.

But if barriers are removed in Christ, what about barriers with non-Christians? We must recognize that no barrier that rejects people for who they are is ever justified. All whom we meet are potentially people who will be in Christ and therefore one with us. The grace that has accepted us into Christ is extended to them by us. All people regardless of race or status—however defined—are to be valued, enabled, and treated justly.76

Can we have peace in this world? Similar to the foregoing is the problem concerning peace in this world. On this issue most of us feel like the author of stanza 3 of “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day:”

And in despair I bowed my head:

“There is no peace on earth,” I said,

“For hate is strong, and mocks the song

Of peace on earth, good will to men.”77

Paul here describes God’s reality in Christ against which our reality is seen as an outdated perversion. We cannot deny the reality of this world, but we are defined by the larger reality God has established. Like everything else in Ephesians, peace too is now and not yet. Complete peace will not come until “all things are brought under one head” (1:10), but peace still defines us now. This peace cannot be reduced to a feeling of peace within or to peace of mind, for the text deals with human relations and even sees peace with God in terms of a united people ushered into his presence. “Christ is our peace” means we live in the peace he has established and conveys to us. Both the vertical and the horizontal dimensions of this peace are to be lived in the present.

From individual to corporate. In the treatment of 2:1–10 we saw that Christians can no longer view themselves merely as individuals. They are part of Christ and of each other. In 2:11–22 this theme is emphasized once again, with “one new being” and with the “body” and “building” imagery. The problem is that modern Christians—especially in the Western world—seem to know only individualism. We must change our outlook. This passage confronts our individualism and asserts our involvement with Christ and with those in him. We cannot separate our relation with God from our relation with other people. The two are so interwoven that they do not exist in isolation, even if we rightly argue the relationship with God is primary. The horizontal and vertical dimensions interact with and define each other. Even in approaching God in confession and repentance, we have already acted on the horizontal plane.

This text is not about people going to heaven or about the church as a group of individuals gathered for mutual support. As important as these are, the goal is for people to be joined to each other in Christ and given access to God in the present. As we will see especially in relation to 4:3, unity is a given from which we live.

The church is a corporate reality. Earlier we stressed that Christology is soteriology, but now it becomes clear that Christology is soteriology is ecclesiology is ethics. These theological categories are not separate subjects put into containers for analysis; they are aspects of the same reality of being bound to Christ. Christ incorporates people into his own being, his death, and his resurrection, and therein lies their salvation. But in him they are a corporate reality (a new being, a body, a temple), which results in a church of people bound to each other in Christ. Because they are bound to each other in him, they take their character from him and live out the fact that they belong to each other. This is the root of the love, care, and justice Christians are to show.

Contemporary Significance

AS IN PREVIOUS sections, we have a text that does not specifically ask anything of us. No imperative is given regarding any act or attitude (other than remembering). All the focus is on the change Christ accomplished and the privilege of new life in him. At the same time, however, the relevance of this passage for Christian living and for the church is enormous.

Remember your identity. Memory enables life by providing an understanding of reality within which we live. We remember pain, enjoyment, people, information, and events in order to make appropriate choices for the present and future. Some memories we choose; others are burned into us by the sheer force of the event. Memories can be paths to success or scars that disable. Sometimes we choose to forget painful parts of life, but often only succeed in repressing the memory until a later, possibly more difficult, time. We also make choices in remembering as to how much attention will be given to particular painful or enjoyable events. Remembering is the way we name and process the past, the way we structure our minds to know how to live.

Paul asks that we remember the life-determining change Christ has brought in us—that is, the radical movement from being dead in sins to life in Christ, from being excluded to being included, for this movement is still at work in our lives every day. Such remembering gives attention to the continuing change at work in us and will not allow us to become lax or guilty of pride. Remembering is therefore the key to loving and worshiping God. Balance is required, however. We do not remember the former life for its own sake or to wallow in its memory. It no longer determines us. We focus instead on Christ and the change he has brought.

For some people past memories are so painful that they cannot be forgotten, and no suggestion is made that such memories can be easily erased. But Christians must know that the only event that defines us is Christ’s death and resurrection, in which we are involved. We die to self—both the sinful self and the self sinned against—and rise to new life in Christ. Here too the now and not yet character of faith is present. The old reality still must be faced, but newness in Christ is the defining force.

A woman who has been raped cannot forget the violation against her, but must the violation continue as an open wound or scar preventing life? Or can life defined by Christ bring healing and wholeness? Does betrayal necessarily lead to cynicism and mistrust, or does definition come from elsewhere? Does sin define us or does Christ? We cannot always choose what happens to us, but we can choose—at least to some degree—what power it will be granted. If this sounds cavalier, a glance at 2 Corinthians 11:22–33 shows it is not. Paul was exposed to unbelievable suffering and humiliation; but for all its impact, Christ was still his defining reality, and some of his letters do not even betray that he has suffered.

Remembering requires attention; it does not happen automatically. To apply this text means that time will be given to thinking, reading, discussing, and learning about the change God has brought. Remembering will lead to prayer and an awareness of God’s presence and his involvement in what we do.

A warning for Christians. Christians enjoy enormous privilege in being taken into the family of God, but such a thought is open to serious abuse, abuse so common that use of such language becomes problematic. Far too frequently Christians view privilege as something they possess, forgetting that the gift ought never to be separated from the Giver.78 We possess nothing but the Christ to whom we are bound. Any privilege comes from him and is known only in him. When we forget this, we distort the faith and overestimate ourselves.

Ephesians 2:11–12 serves as a strong warning to Christians, for we are as vulnerable to the failures of the Jews as they were. Unfortunately, much name-calling takes place within the church. When we label someone pejoratively, we too are acting “in the flesh”—in a merely human way that does not involve God. We also have our religious badges that demean and exclude, just as circumcision did for the Jews. Our sense of privilege turns into a “holier than thou” attitude that makes healthy relations impossible. When we communicate division and disdain, are not our religious acts also “made from human hands”?

My own Southern Baptist denomination is torn by strife. Actions taken on all sides have not been done in a Christian manner. Do we not have to say, “This is a baptism in the flesh, made from human hands”? Unfortunately, much Christian action falls in this category, but we cannot live as Christians while behaving in a non-Christian manner. If we do not show the same love and grace as the One into whose family we have been brought, we betray that we do not really belong in the home. We are still estranged from God while performing religious acts.

Application of this text occurs in humility and repentance, followed by serious family talk about how we communicate who we are. How can we keep privilege, obedience, and righteous action from bringing division, disdain, and name-calling? “Holier than thou” attitudes are almost impossible to stop and are often unperceived by the “holy.” We cannot draw people to Christ while inadvertently belittling them. Privilege should lead to thanksgiving, not arrogance. Once again a sense of grace is the key. Grace excludes pride and extends itself to others in need.

We belong. Throughout life, most of us have some sense of not belonging, and we feel unaccepted and inferior. The drive to identify with someone, some group, or some cause deemed important—even if it is only a sports team—is enormous. Such identifications make us feel important. We need to belong, to have some sense of fit in the world, and from a sense of belonging comes the ability to relate and accomplish things. Our own families are, of course, primary in giving us a sense of belonging.

This text says we do belong. Christ brought us home to God. We live in God’s house as members of his family, and at the same time we are a house in which God lives (2:19–22). We belong with God and are involved in what he is doing. The other people in the house are family with us. This home defines us. Christ has given us place in his world, and from that sense of belonging comes a growing ability to relate and accomplish the tasks to which we are called. This texts asks that we remember where home is: We are at home with God.

From here all else in the Christian life flows. The church as a family of faith should have the feel of family. Family members care for each other, are committed to each other, confront each other, and sustain each other. A sense of family should shape our worship. Worship should not be like a production we watch; rather, we need the comfort and freedom of being involved in a family experience, joining together to communicate with God, to address and be addressed. No one should be allowed to feel like an outsider in the church; all people need to know they belong.

The barriers are down; Christians live with God. Consciously or unconsciously people—even those who believe in Christ—can think of God as distant and unapproachable. This lack of a sense of the nearness to God lies at the root of much of human failure. Yet even before faith, God is never distant from us, as Paul reminded the Athenians (Acts 17:27) and as the psalmist testified (Ps. 139:7–12). The language of nearness is, of course, metaphorical, and we need to distinguish language about God’s presence prior to faith and our being brought near in Christ. In the former, God is the holy, gracious God seeking people, but his holiness is also an overwhelming presence. In Christ, however, we have been brought to God, and the barriers blocking access to him, such as sin, hostility, and the weakness of the flesh have been removed.

Peace, access, nearness, and reconciliation all emphasize that the barriers between God and us have been removed. But what does the text want us to do with this information? Nothing explicit is said, but several implications are present.

(1) We live with God and he with us. We communicate with God, and his presence shapes us. Once again faith is shown to be relational, not a decision or set of beliefs.

(2) Life, salvation, and resources for life flow from God to those with him. This is not a “health and wealth” theology, but a recognition that God is the giver of all good things.

(3) Worship and thanksgiving are a natural part of life.

(4) The character of God is our guide. What is implicit in this text will be made explicit in 5:1: Christians are to imitate their God.

The barriers are down; Christians are joined. The attitude of this world is best expressed in the phrase, “You’re different from me, and I resent you for that.”79 We create barriers between races, nations, religions, genders, social and economic classes, denominations, schools, communities, teams, and families. Differentiation is necessary for identity, but the human tendency to create barriers is a distortion and a sin. Distinction and uniqueness do not have to lead to division. The erection of barriers results from the ways we attribute value, that is, by devaluing those who are different.

Even before being in Christ, humans have more in common than they do differently. All are made in the image of God, have the same needs, and experience the same distortion from sin. But especially in Christ no ground exists for barriers or divisions—not along racial, sexual, cultural, or any other lines. We are one with all others in Christ whether we like it or not. To maintain divisions is to deny what Christ has accomplished.

Application requires a change of mind. The markers that define us must give way to the one determining marker that says who we are—Christ himself. The other markers may be real, but they neither define us nor divide us from other people in Christ. All people stand with the same value before God, and we belong to the same family with other believers.

The race problem. Nowhere is this theology more important for modern Christians than in dealing with racial hostility. Christians of other races are part of us, and divisions cannot be allowed to continue. The racial barrier is like a festering wound in the body of Christ. We may no longer have separate drinking fountains such as I witnessed as a child—one marked “Whites only” and another marked “Colored only.” Yet racial hostility boils just under the surface in the United States and many other countries, and Christians contribute to the problem. Sunday is often the most segregated day of the week, for Christians worship along racial lines.

The perversion of both active and passive racism must be challenged and stopped. The church must be a place where people know the barriers have been removed, can find solace, and can deal with racial injustice. The witness of the church is at stake. When people are told either implicitly or explicitly that they are not welcome in a church because of their color, the church has become an absurd place.

Racism will have to be treated on two levels, both as a general societal problem and specifically within the body of Christ. Racism in any form is prohibited by the equality of all people before God and by his unrestricted love. But the theology of the body of Christ deals with the issue at another level. The point is not merely that all Christians are equal; rather, the point is that all Christians have been joined, which has far more significance and impact.

If the barriers are down and we are joined to other believers, then several responses are required from Christians. (1) Acceptance and valuing people of other races on an equal level is a necessity. An attitude that says in effect, “They are not our kind,” destroys the body of Christ. Since all of us operate with such attitudes, an ongoing repentance is prerequisite.

(2) In addition, we will need investment in Christians of other races. We cannot accept and value what we do not know or care about. We need to demonstrate that other groups matter to us. The unity cannot be merely a theoretical unity, but must be put into practice.

(3) We need to seek justice for other groups as well. Questions about justice are often complicated—witness the debate over illegal immigrants—but the church should be leading the discussion about justice and compassion so that whole groups of people are not placed on a second tier. Racism has to be named, confronted, and rejected.

(4) Finally, some level of sharing among Christians must take place. Unity does not exist without involvement. Hands need to be joined in worship, in learning, in ministering to needs, and in evangelism. The most significant witness to the love of Christ lies in the ability of Christians of various races to care for each other and work together.

Male and female. From the ancient world on, barriers between the sexes were created for two primary reasons: to prevent abuse of women and because women are viewed as inferior. Today radical feminists, in reaction to centuries of abuse, have deepened the hostility between the sexes. Here too the witness of the church is at stake. Christians need to show that in Christ relations are different, that women are not devalued and are not to be used or abused, and that the barrier has been destroyed in Christ. Women should not have to fear abuse but should feel as accepted and valued as men are. Here, as elsewhere, the not-yet character of faith lived in this world may be all too obvious, but the church must be the place where people experience the now in the presence of the not yet. Women must know they are fully part of the body of Christ and that barriers do not prohibit their full participation.

One of the most sacred sites for Jews is the so-called “wailing wall” in Jerusalem, a retaining wall from the temple mount in Jesus’ day. Anyone who has seen this wall knows that a rail stands to separate men who pray on the left from women who pray on the right.80 Churches are not so obvious, but Christians have for too long categorized women differently. This text will not allow the barrier to continue.

Many other barriers exist in our society, such as education, social standing, and economics. The differences will not go away, but the church must think through the fact that the differences should not divide us or make anyone feel less valuable.

Two wrong turns. At times Christians have argued that unity in Christ is a “spiritual” reality and does not require involvement with other groups. Separation of the “spiritual” from the “secular” cannot be tolerated. Such attempts avoid the implications of the gospel. That which is spiritual affects, rather directs, all of life. One has only to look at Paul’s confronting Peter over not eating with Gentiles (Gal. 2:11–14); unity in Christ has to do with sitting at table together. The church cannot be allowed to exist in self-selected and self-serving groups.

Second, some have concluded that since the barriers are down, Christians need not evangelize Jews. The relation between Jews and Christians is a delicate issue, both because Christians exist only because of their Jewish heritage and because of the holocaust in Nazi Germany. From an exegetical standpoint, the unity about which the text speaks is unity between Jewish Christians and Gentile Christians—not unity between Jews and Christians. This is a unity in Christ. Paul certainly did not hesitate to seek the conversion of Jews, and neither should we, given the humility and respect that is needed for any work of evangelism.81

However, no ground exists for even a hint of anti-Semitism, a sin that too easily appears among Christians. The implicit message that Jews should be punished because they crucified Christ is theologically naive. The Jews as a race are no more responsible for the death of Christ than any other race, and we should be careful in describing the crucifixion that Jews do not become scapegoats. They are like the rest of us, needing a Savior.

United, not uniform. Paul’s emphasis on unity does not mean all Christians are alike. Unity in Christ does not negate differences, cultural uniqueness, or the value of culture. Jews in Christ do not become Gentiles, nor do Gentiles become Jewish Christians. Women do not become men, or vice versa, and people do not suddenly all have the same abilities. Paul’s body theology assumes both unity and diversity (1 Cor. 12:14–26).

Once again, the issue of the relation of gospel and culture enters the discussion.82 Enjoying one’s own culture is to be expected, and we choose like-minded people for good reasons. The homogeneous principle of church growth, which has churches target groups culturally similar to themselves, is understandable. Communication requires similarity, and like attracts like. Worship is a cultural expression and has most impact when framed in culturally specific ways. No one should be surprised or find fault that blacks are more comfortable in black churches, Koreans in Korean churches, and whites in white churches.

But the barriers are down, and the homogeneous principle—for all its practicality—cannot guide the church. Cultural preferences must take a backseat to unity in Christ. The most important issue is always identity: What is the strongest defining reality for us—Christ or culture? Culture is important—indeed, a necessary part of the fabric of our lives—but Christ, not culture, gives the primary definition to life. Culture is the means by which Christ is expressed, but the message is Christ himself. Do ethnic churches exist to preserve a culture or to promote Christ? Often one gets the impression that the real center of all our churches is our culture, not our Lord. That attitude needs to change.

Churches need to be astute enough to know when they are using culture, when they are adapting culture, and when they must confront culture.83 Churches must demonstrate that the barriers are down. That most churches are culturally monolithic is an embarrassment. Church members must show they care about other people in Christ, even if they are different culturally, economically, politically, or socially. A monolithic church in a multicultural context is a failure. Churches need to demonstrate unity with Christians of other cultures, to seek justice, and to evangelize across cultural and racial lines. We have to show the barriers are down.

The church is a peace institute. The peace discussed in this text is not about good inner feelings; it is about relations. Far too many people have distorted ideas about religion, that religion is what they do when they are alone, quiet, and thinking of God. They forget that the vertical relation with God is bound to and expressed in horizontal relations with people. Note too that the text does not say, “He is my peace”; it says, “He is our peace.” A church is a group of people who know this and embody peace in anticipation of that day when God establishes peace in all his creation. In the church God’s work of peace has a beachhead and is already represented. Christians by definition are people of peace. That does not mean we are passive or quiescent. On the contrary, as people of peace we by necessity struggle for justice.

In our churches peace is rarely given value. We have assumed our culture’s insecurity to such a degree that peace is relegated to end time eschatology. Premium value is placed on “doing it my way” and “believing as I say.” Christians are marked more by division than peace. But if peace was a criterion by which Paul solved problems, then peace should have regulative force for us too. It should both rule our hearts and our churches. In the church peace should get a chance. Numerous schools for war exist, and both amateurs and scholars study wars. Few people study peace. The church should be a place where people study and practice peace. But again a caution is in order. Peace does not mean passivity. If Isaiah 57:21 reminds us “there is no peace for the wicked,” then focusing on peace will mean focusing on righteousness and justice.84

Christians are a corporate group. Modern evangelicals tend to focus on Christianity as a religion of the individual. The failure of the church has often driven people to this option, but the New Testament knows nothing of “lone ranger” Christianity. The individual and the faith of the individual are both important, but the Christian faith is a corporate religion. When one is baptized into Christ, one is baptized into the body of Christ (1 Cor. 12:13; Gal. 3:27–28). This part of the reality of faith should not be neglected. People do relate to God as individuals, but the focus is corporate.85 In the horizontal relation the vertical relation is lived out. The gospel needs to be presented in such a way that people realize its sociological dimensions.

The division in the church into so many groups is a scandal. I am not suggesting all parts of the church should agree. Nor is the goal to form structures of unity; rather, the goal is living unity in Christ. Far too often Christians are more interested in their brand of Christianity than in Christ. They are Lutheran, Baptist, or whatever before they are Christian, and anyone else is, at best, misguided. Without focusing on structures, must not the church focus on unity in Christ? Must not the church be both evangelical and ecumenical?

To focus on unity has nothing to do with being weak on doctrine. Unity is itself a theological necessity. Christians cannot sacrifice the essence of the gospel to attain unity, for that would not be Christian unity. Most of our divisions, however, occurred without justification and were usually accompanied by non-Christian attitudes and acts. We must be ready to tolerate disagreement as we enjoy unity. Obviously central tenets of the faith—such as the authority of Scriptures, the deity of Christ, and the death and resurrection of Christ—should not be diminished, for without these central features we no longer have a Christian church.

Holding staunchly to correct doctrine is not sufficient to defend the faith. Do we not as staunchly need to hold to Christian attitudes and practices and to unity? Why do the so-called defenders of orthodoxy have such a difficult time showing grace? Is it impossible to be both orthodox and magnanimous at the same time? Orthodoxy ought to make people gracious. The key is in seeing that both the content of belief and the conduct of belief are determined by Christ.

The church is centered on Christ. Communities can exist for a variety of reasons, but the Christian church exists only because of Christ and his purposes. Christianity is a religion centered on a person. The church gathers around the character of Christ, not the characteristics of the people. Apart from the significance of his death and resurrection, the church has no reason to exist. The church is a community and has traditions and rituals, but it is not about any of these things. The church is about Jesus Christ, and the other pieces of the picture exist to display the role of Christ in the church. It is possible to be Jewish and to observe events such as the Passover Seder without religious commitment to Judaism. The Christian community, however, has no other reason to exist other than Christ himself. He is our peace, the one in whom all are united, the one who gives access to God, and the cornerstone on whom the building grows.

Consequently, the activities of a church should reflect this central focus on Christ. Only then can believers fulfill their mission. This suggestion is not limiting, for Christ is the focal point of God’s purposes and the one in whom all things are brought together (1:10). The church’s agenda is not a collection of meaningful ideas and projects. The church’s agenda is Christ, in whom all subjects are placed in order.

As a result, teaching and preaching about Christ must be the focus. This is implicit in Christ’s preaching peace in 2:17 and in the mention of “apostles and prophets” in 2:20. Just as this whole passage emphasizes what Christ accomplished, so the church proclaims his message of peace both far and near and teaches people the implications of the change he brings. A church communicates Christ both in speech and action, or it has ceased to be a church.

The sociological dimensions of this text rule out any division of evangelism and social justice. Such a dichotomy should never have been allowed. Neither can evangelism be viewed as anxiety-driven speech-persuading decisions. Evangelism is the authentic living out of life with Christ in word and act. Unfortunately, churches too frequently become uncomfortable about presenting Christ and fall into a maintenance mode. They are the ones who need most to heed this text with its call to remember the change and its Christocentric focus on the privileges Christ brings.

The church is the people. Even when we know better, we tend to think of the church as either a physical structure or a denominational entity, both of which exist to produce programs. Such meanings of the word church are derived meanings. Even in the New Testament the word ekklesia is used of a non-Christian “assembly,”86 and Paul may have intended no more than “assembly” or “gathering” when he applied the word to Christians. Neither physical structures nor denominations are necessary to have a church. The people are the stones that make up this building in which God dwells.87

My comments are not intended to disparage physical buildings or denominations. Conducive space enables worship and ministry, and organizations can facilitate tasks, but neither is the church. If we remember the church is the people, several implications follow. (1) Church is no longer perceived as a program that some people put on for others to watch. The people are participants, joining together to worship and to have fellowship with God, who is present with them as a group. (2) Ministry is for everyone, not merely the clergy. The people are the temple in which God dwells. (3) Value is placed on people. Sometimes the impression is given that people are dispensable, as long as the building is maintained and the programs keep going. The average church in the United States devotes the majority of its funds to its building and internal operations. What if we invested in people as much as in our buildings and systems?

An actor sitting in a theatre looked around him and said, “This is my church.” Everyone has a church, the place you go for definition and to assert your allegiances. For some people it is a bar, for some a stadium; for Christians it is the place where Christ is the norm and where allegiance is paid to him.