Homily 3 — Ephesians 1, verses 15 to 23

“For this reason I too, having heard of the faith in the Lord Jesus that is among you, and which you show toward all the saints, do not cease to give thanks for you, making mention of you in my prayers: that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation in the knowledge of him, having the eyes of your heart enlightened, so that you may know what is the hope of his calling, what the riches of the glory of his inheritance in the saints, and what the surpassing greatness of his power toward us who believe, according to the working of the strength of his might, which he worked in Christ when he raised him from the dead.” [a]

Nothing ever equaled the longing of the apostle — nothing. Nothing ever matched the sympathy and the warm affection of the blessed Paul. He made every one of his prayers on behalf of whole cities and peoples, and he writes the same thing to them all: “I thank my God for you, making mention of you in my prayers.” Think how many people he held in his mind — people it would be hard work merely to remember! Think how many he mentioned in his prayers, thanking God for them all as though he himself had received the greatest blessing.

“For this reason,” he says — that is, because of what is to come, because of the good things stored up for those who believe rightly and live rightly. So it is right to give thanks to God for all the things humankind has received from his hands, both in the past and in time to come; and right to give him thanks also for the faith of those who believe. [b]

“Having heard,” he says, “of the faith in the Lord Jesus that is among you, and which you show toward all the saints.” Everywhere he knits together and joins faith and love, a glorious pair. And he does not mention only the saints of that region, but all of them.

“I do not cease to give thanks for you, making mention of you in my prayers.” What is your prayer, and what is your request? It is “that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation.” He wants them to understand two things, as it is their duty to understand them: what blessings they are called to, and how they have been set free from their former condition.

Yet he himself says that these points are three. How, then, are they three? So that we may understand about the things to come. For from the good things stored up for us we will come to know his riches, which are beyond words and beyond measure; and from understanding who we were, and how we came to believe, we will come to know his power and his sovereign might, in turning back to himself those who had been estranged from him for so long. “For the weakness of God is stronger than men” (First Corinthians 1, verse 25). For it is by the very same power by which he raised Christ from the dead that he has also drawn us to himself. And that power does not stop at the resurrection; it goes far beyond it. [c]

Verses 21 and 22: “And he made him sit at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and every name that is named; and he put all things in subjection under his feet, and gave him to be head over all things to the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all.”

Vast indeed are the mysteries and secrets he has made us share in. And it is not possible for us to understand them except by sharing in the Holy Spirit and receiving grace in abundance. That is why Paul prays. [d]

“The Father of glory” — that is, he who has given us vast blessings. For Paul constantly names God according to the subject he is dealing with, as for instance when he says, “The Father of mercies and God of all comfort” (Second Corinthians 1, verse 3). And again, the prophet says, “The Lord is my strength and my might” (Psalm 18, verse 1).

“The Father of glory.” He has no word with which to express these things, and everywhere he calls them “glory,” which among us is in fact the name and title for every kind of splendor. Notice: he says “the Father of glory” (compare Acts 7, verse 2), but of Christ, “the God.” What then? Is the Son inferior to the glory? No! There is no one — not even a madman — who would say so.

“May give you” —

that is, may lift your understanding and give it wings; for there is no other way to understand these things. “For the unspiritual man does not receive the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness to him” (First Corinthians 2, verse 14). So there is need of spiritual “wisdom,” so that we may perceive spiritual things and see hidden things. That Spirit “reveals” all things. Paul is about to set out the mysteries of God, and the knowledge of God’s mysteries is grasped by the Spirit alone, who also searches the deep things of God. It does not say, “that an angel, or an archangel, or any other created power may give” — that is, grant you a spiritual gift. [f]

And if this comes by revelation, then hunting for arguments is useless. For whoever has learned God and knows God will no longer dispute about anything. He will not say, “This is impossible,” and “That is possible,” and “How did this other thing come about?” If we learn God as we ought to know him — if we learn God from the one from whom we ought to learn him, that is, from the Spirit himself — then we will no longer dispute about anything. And that is why he says, “having the eyes of your heart enlightened in the knowledge of him.”

Whoever has learned what God is will have no doubts about his promises, and no disbelief about what has already come to pass. So he prays that they may be given “a spirit of wisdom and revelation.” Yet he also makes his case, as far as he himself can, by arguments and from facts that already exist. He was about to mention some things that had already come to pass and others that had not yet happened, so he makes the things that have come to pass a pledge of those that have not. I mean something like this: “That you may know,” he says, “what is the hope of his calling.” It is still hidden, he means — but not to the faithful. And again, “what are the riches of the glory of his inheritance in the saints.” This too is still hidden.

But what is plain? That it is through his power that we have believed that he raised Christ. For to persuade souls is far more miraculous than to raise a dead body. I will try to make this clear. Listen, then. Christ said to the dead man, “Lazarus, come out!” (John 11, verse 43), and at once he obeyed. Peter said, “Tabitha, get up!” (Acts 9, verse 40), and she did not refuse.

He himself will speak the word on the last day, and all will rise — and so quickly that “those who are still alive will certainly not go ahead of those who have fallen asleep” (First Thessalonians 4, verse 15), and everything will happen, all will run together, “in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye” (First Corinthians 15, verse 52). But with believing it is not like that. How is it, then? Listen to him again, how he says, “How often I wanted to gather your children together, and you were not willing!” (Matthew 23, verse 37). You see that this last is the harder thing. So it is on this that Paul builds up his whole argument, because by human reckoning it is far harder to move the will than to work upon nature. And the reason is this: God wants us to become good by our own choice. So he rightly says, “the surpassing greatness of his power toward us who believe.”

Yes: when the prophets had accomplished nothing, nor the angels, nor the archangels; when the whole creation, visible and invisible, had failed (the visible lying before us, yet with no power to guide us, and much of the invisible as well) — then he arranged his own coming, to show us that this was a matter that required divine power.

“The riches of the glory” — that is, the glory beyond words. For what language will be able to express that glory which the saints will then share? None. But truly there is need of grace for the understanding to perceive it and take in even one small ray of it. Some things they already knew before; now he wanted them to learn more, and to know it more clearly. Do you see what great things he has done?

He has raised Christ. Is this a small thing? But look again. He has set him at his right hand. Will any language be able to describe this? The one who was of the earth, more voiceless than the fish, made the plaything of demons — him he has in a moment raised up on high. Truly this is “the surpassing greatness of his power.” And see where he has raised him: “in the heavenly places.” He has set him far above all created nature, far above all rule and authority. “Far above all rule,” he says.

There is need, then, of the Spirit indeed, of an understanding made wise in the knowledge of him. There is need of revelation indeed. Think how vast the distance is between the nature of man and the nature of God. Yet from this lowly condition he has raised him to that high dignity. And he does not climb by stages, first one step, then another, then a third. Amazing! He does not simply say “above,” but “far above”; for God is above even those powers that are above. And there, then, he has raised him — him who is one of us — bringing him from the lowest point to the highest sovereignty, beyond which there is no other honor. Above “all” rule, he says — not over one and not over another, but over all: “rule and authority and power and dominion, and every name that is named.” [g]

Whatever there is in heaven, he has been set above it all. And this is said of him who was raised from the dead, which is what deserves our wonder. Of God the Word it could not possibly be a thing to wonder at, because what insects are compared with man, the whole creation is compared with God. If all humankind is counted as spittle and reckoned as the slight tip of a scale, think of the invisible powers as insects. But said of him who was one of us, this is great and astonishing indeed. For he raised him up from the lowest parts of the earth. If all the nations are like a drop, how small a part of that drop is a single man! Yet him he has made higher than all things, “not only in this age, but also in the one to come.”

So there are powers whose names we do not understand and do not know.

“And he put all things in subjection under his feet.” He did not simply set him above them so as to be honored above them, nor by way of comparison with them, but so that he should sit over them as his slaves. Amazing! Awe-inspiring indeed are these things: every created power has been made the slave of a man, because God the Word lives in him. For a man can be above others without having them in subjection, simply by being ranked ahead of them. But here it is not so. No: “he put all things in subjection under his feet.” And he did not simply put them in subjection, but in the lowest subjection, below which there can be none. That is why he adds, “under his feet.”

“And gave him to be head over all things to the church.” Amazing again! Where has he raised the church? As though he were hoisting it with some machine, he has raised it up to a vast height and set it on that throne up there; for where the head is, there the body is too. There is no gap to separate the head from the body; for if there were a separation, it would no longer be a body, and it would no longer be a head.

“Over all things,” he says. What does “over all things” mean? He has not allowed any angel or archangel or any other being to be above him. But he has honored us not only in this way — by exalting what is ours — but also in that he has prepared the whole human race together to follow him, to cling to him, to go along in his train. [i]

“Which is his body.” This is so that when you hear of the head you would not think only of supremacy, but also of union, and so that you would see him not only as supreme ruler, but as the head of a body.

“The fullness of him who fills all in all,” he says. As though this were not enough to show the close connection and kinship, what does he add? “The fullness of Christ is the church.”

And rightly so, for what completes the head is the body, and what completes the body is the head. Notice how carefully Paul arranges everything, how he spares no word to set out the glory of God. “The fullness,” he says — that is, the head is, so to speak, filled up by the body. For the body is put together and made up of all its separate parts, and he presents him as needing every single one, and not only all of them together and in common. For unless we are many — one the hand, another the foot, another some other member — the whole body is not filled up. So it is by all of us that his body is filled up. The head is filled up, and the body made complete, when we are all knit together and united. Do you see, then, “the riches of the glory of his inheritance,” “the surpassing greatness of his power toward those who believe,” “the hope of your calling”?

Let us reverence our head. Let us think what a head we are the body of — a head to whom all things have been put in subjection. By this picture we ought to be better even than the angels, and greater than the archangels, since we have been honored above them all. [k]

God “did not take hold of angels,” as he says in writing to the Hebrews, “but he took hold of the seed of Abraham” (Hebrews 2, verse 16). He did not take hold of rule or power or dominion or any other authority; he took up our nature and made it sit at his right hand. And why do I say he made it sit there? He made it his clothing — and not only that, but he has put all things in subjection under his feet. How many kinds of death do you suppose? How many souls? Ten thousand? Yes, ten thousand times over — and still you will name nothing equal to it.

He has done two things, the greatest things. He himself came down to the lowest depth of humiliation, and he has raised man to the height of exaltation. He saved him by his blood. Paul spoke of the first of these earlier, how greatly he humbled himself. Now he speaks of what is mightier than that — a great thing, the crown of all. Surely, even if we had been counted worthy of nothing further, that would have been enough. Or if we had been counted worthy of this honor alone, without the slaying of the Son, that would have been enough. But where there are both, what power of language must it not go beyond and surpass? When I think on these things, even the resurrection itself is not great. It is of him that Paul says, “the God of our Lord Jesus Christ” — not of God the Word.

Let us be awed at how close our bond is. Let us dread that anyone should be cut off from this body, that anyone should fall away from it, that anyone should prove unworthy of it. If someone placed a diadem on our heads, a crown of gold, would we not do everything to seem worthy of those lifeless jewels? But now it is not a diadem that is around our head; what is far greater, Christ has been made our very head — and yet we pay no attention to it. Yet the angels reverence that head, and the archangels, and all the powers above. And will we, who are his body, be awed by neither the one nor the other? What hope of salvation will we have, then? Picture the royal throne; picture how far the honor goes. If we were willing, this might do more to shake us than even hell itself. For even if there were no hell, what punishment, what vengeance must it not carry with it, that we who have been honored with such an honor should be found base and unworthy of it?

Think whom your head is seated beside — this one thought is quite enough for any purpose at all — at whose right hand he has been placed, far above all rule and power and might. And yet the body of this head is trampled on by the demons themselves! No — far from it! If it were so, such a body could no longer be his body. Even the more respectable of your servants show respect for your own head; and do you hand over your body to be the plaything of those who insult it? What severe punishment will you not deserve? If a man bound the emperor’s feet with chains and shackles, would he not be liable to the utmost punishment?

And you expose the whole body to savage beasts, and do not shudder? [m]

But since we are speaking of the Lord’s body, come, let us turn our thoughts to it — the body that was crucified, that was nailed, that is sacrificed. If you are the body of Christ, bear the cross, for he bore it; bear being spat on, bear blows, bear nails. That body was like this: that body “committed no sin, and no deceit was found in his mouth” (First Peter 2, verse 22). His hands did everything for the good of those in need; his mouth spoke not one word of the things that are not fitting. He heard them say, “You have a demon,” and he made no answer.

And further, we are speaking of this body; and all of us who partake of that body and taste that blood are partaking of what is in no way different from that body, and not separate from it. Consider that we taste of that body which sits above, which is worshiped by angels, which is next to the Power that is incorruptible. Alas! How many roads to salvation are open to us! He has made us his own body; he has given us a share in his own body; and still not one of these things turns us away from evil. Oh, the darkness! The depth of the abyss! The indifference! “Set your minds,” he says, “on the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God” (Colossians 3, verse 1). And after all this, some set their hearts on money, others on loose living, and others are carried off captive by their passions!

Don’t you see that even in our own bodies, when some part is excess and useless, it is cut off, cut away? It is no help to it that it once belonged to the body, when it is maimed, when it has gone dead, when it is rotting, when it is harming the rest. So let us not be overconfident because we have once been made members of this body. If this body of ours, though only a natural body, still suffers amputation, what dreadful evil will it not suffer if the moral principle fails? When the body does not take in its natural food, when the pores are stopped up, then it dies off; when the channels are closed, then it becomes paralyzed. [n]

So it is with us too. When we stop our ears, our soul becomes paralyzed. When we do not take in the spiritual food, when evil dispositions damage us in place of the corrupt humors of the body, all these things breed disease — dangerous disease, wasting disease. And then there will be need of that fire; there will be need of that cutting in pieces. For Christ cannot bear for us to enter the bridal chamber with such a body as this. If he led away and threw out the man clothed in filthy garments, what will he not do to the man who fastens filth onto the body? How will he not deal with him?

I see many who partake of Christ’s body carelessly and just as it happens, more from habit and routine than from thought and understanding. When the holy season of Lent begins, people say, then whatever sort of man someone is, he takes part in the mysteries — or when the day of the Lord’s Epiphany comes. And yet it is not the Epiphany, and it is not Lent, that makes the right time for coming forward; it is sincerity and purity of soul. With this, come at all times; without it, never. “For as often,” he says, “as you do this, you proclaim the Lord’s death” (First Corinthians 11, verse 26) — that is, “you make a remembrance of the salvation that has been worked for you, and of the benefits I have given.” Think of those who partook of the sacrifices under the old covenant: how much abstinence they practiced!

How did they not conduct themselves? What did they not do? They were always purifying themselves. And you, when you come near to a sacrifice at which the very angels tremble, do you measure the matter by the turning of the seasons? How will you stand before the judgment seat of Christ, you who dare to lay hold of his body with polluted hands and lips? You would not dare to kiss a king with an unclean mouth; and do you kiss the King of heaven with an unclean soul? It is an outrage.

Tell me, would you choose to come to the sacrifice with unwashed hands? No, I suppose not. You would rather not come at all than come with dirty hands. And then, careful as you are in this small matter, do you come with a dirty soul and dare to touch it like that? And yet the hands hold it only for a moment, while into the soul it is wholly dissolved. What, don’t you see the holy vessels, so thoroughly cleaned all over, so shining? Our souls ought to be purer than those vessels, holier, more brilliant. And why is that? Because those vessels are made so for our sake. They do not partake of him who is in them; they do not perceive him. But we do — yes, truly. So you would not choose to use a dirty vessel, and do you come with a dirty soul?

See how completely inconsistent this is. At other times you do not come — no, not even when you are often clean. But at Easter, however outrageous the thing you have done, you come. Oh, the power of habit and of prejudice! The daily sacrifice is offered in vain; in vain we stand at the altar; there is no one to partake. I am saying these things not to get you to partake in any way at all, but so that you will make yourselves worthy to partake.

Are you not worthy of the sacrifice, nor of sharing in it? Then you are not worthy of the prayer either. You hear the herald standing and saying, “All you who are penitents, pray.” All who do not partake are penitents. If you are one of the penitents, you ought not to partake; for whoever does not partake is one of the penitents. Why, then, does the herald say, “Depart, you who are not qualified to pray,” while you have the nerve to stay standing there? But no — you are not of that number. You are among those qualified to partake, and yet you are indifferent about it and treat the matter as nothing.

Look, I beg you: a royal table is set before you, angels serve at that table, the King himself is there — and you stand there gaping? Are your garments stained, and you think nothing of it? Or are they clean? Then fall down and partake. Every day he comes in to see the guests and talks with them all. Yes, at this very moment he is speaking to your conscience: “Friends, how is it that you stand here without a wedding garment?” He did not say, “Why did you sit down?” No: before the man sat down, he declared him unworthy even to come in. He does not say, “Why did you sit down to eat?” but, “Why did you come in?” And these are the words he is speaking at this very moment to each and every one of us who stand here with such shameless nerve. For everyone who stands here and does not partake of the mysteries is standing here in shameless nerve. [o]

That is why those who are in sins are sent out first of all. When a master is present at his table, it is not right for the servants who have offended him to be there; they are sent out of the way. In just the same way here: when the sacrifice is brought out, and Christ, the Lord’s sheep, is sacrificed; when you hear the words, “Let us pray together”; when you see the curtains drawn back — then imagine that the heavens are being let down from above, and that the angels are coming down!

So, just as it is not right for anyone not yet initiated to be present, neither is it right for someone who is initiated and at the same time defiled. [p]

Tell me: suppose someone were invited to a feast, and washed his hands, and sat down, all ready at the table, and then after all refused to eat. Is he not insulting the man who invited him? Would it not be better for such a man never to have come at all? Well, it is in just the same way that you have come here. You have sung the hymn with everyone else. You have declared yourself to be one of the worthy, by not leaving with the unworthy. Why stay, then, and not partake of the table? You will say: “I am unworthy.” Then you are unworthy also of the fellowship you have had in the prayers. For it is not only through the offerings, but also through those hymns, that the Spirit comes down on every side. Don’t we see our own servants first wiping down the table with a sponge and cleaning the house, and only then setting out the meal? This is what the prayers do, and the herald’s cry. We wipe down the church with a sponge, so to speak, so that everything may be set out in a pure church, that there may be “neither spot nor wrinkle” (Ephesians 5, verse 27).

Unworthy indeed are our eyes of these sights, and unworthy our ears! “And if even a beast touches the mountain,” it says, “it will be stoned” (Exodus 19, verse 13). So then, they were not worthy even to set foot on it; and yet afterward they both came near and saw where God had stood. You too may come near afterward and see; but when he is present, leave. You are no more allowed to be here than the catechumen is. For it is not at all the same thing never to have reached the mysteries, and, having reached them, to stumble over them and despise them and make yourself unworthy of this thing. One could take up more points, and more awe-inspiring ones still; but so as not to burden your minds, these will do. Those who are not brought to their senses by these certainly will not be by more. [q]

So that I may not become the cause of increasing your condemnation, I beg you — not to stay away, but to make yourselves worthy both to be present and to come forward. Tell me: if some king gave a command and said, “Whoever does this, let him share my table,” would you not do everything you could to be admitted? He has invited us to heaven, to the table of the great and wonderful King — and do we shrink back and hesitate, instead of hurrying and running to it? What hope of salvation do we have, then? We cannot lay the blame on our weakness; we cannot lay it on our nature. It is laziness, and nothing else, that makes us unworthy.

So much for my part. But may he who pierces the heart, he who gives the spirit of heartfelt sorrow, pierce your hearts and plant the seeds deep within them, so that through fear of him you may conceive and bring forth the spirit of salvation, and come near with confidence. For “your children,” it says, “are like olive shoots around your table” (Psalm 128, verse 3). Oh, then, let there be nothing old, nothing wild, nothing harsh! For such are the young plants that are fit to bear fruit — beautiful fruit, the fruit of the olive tree, I mean. And they are flourishing, so that all of them are around the table and come together here, not idly or by chance, but with fear and reverence. For in this way you will look with confidence even on Christ himself in heaven, and will be counted worthy of that heavenly kingdom. May God grant that we may all attain it, in Jesus Christ our Lord, with whom to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might and honor, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen. [r]