Homilies on Ephesians
Homily 7 — Ephesians 3, verses 8 to 21
Ephesians 3, verses 8 to 21
“To me, who am less than the least of all saints, this grace was given: to preach to the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ, and to make all people see what the plan of the mystery is, which from all ages has been hidden in God, who created all things; so that now, through the church, the many-sided wisdom of God might be made known to the rulers and the authorities in the heavenly places, according to the eternal purpose which he purposed in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
Those who go to the physician do not simply go there and do nothing more. They have to learn how to care for themselves and how to apply the remedies. It is the same with us who come here. We must not come and do nothing else; we must learn our lesson — and the lesson is the surpassing humility of Paul. What do I mean? When he was about to speak of the vastness of God’s grace, listen to what he says: “To me, who am less than the least of all saints, this grace was given.”
It was humility, of course, even to mourn his former sins, though they had been wiped out, and to mention them, and to keep himself within his true measure, as when he calls himself “a blasphemer, a persecutor, and an insolent man” (First Timothy 1, verse 13). Yet nothing equals this. For there he says that he was such a man “formerly”; and again he calls himself “one untimely born” (First Corinthians 15, verse 8). But that after so many great and good deeds, and at that very time, he should humble himself like this and call himself “less than the least of all” — this is truly great and surpassing modesty.
“To me, who am less than the least of all saints.” He does not say, “than the apostles.” So that other expression is less strong than the one before us. There his words are, “I am not worthy to be called an apostle” (First Corinthians 15, verse 9). Here he says that he is even “less than the least of all saints.” “To me,” he says, “who am less than the least of all saints, this grace was given.” What grace? “To preach to the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ, and to make all people see what the plan of the mystery is, which from all ages has been hidden in God, who created all things; so that now, through the church, the many-sided wisdom of God might be made known to the rulers and the authorities in the heavenly places.”
True, it had not been revealed to human beings. But are you enlightening angels and archangels, rulers and authorities? He replies: “I am.” For it was “hidden in God,” and in “God who created all things.” And do you dare to say this? He replies: “I do.” But how was this made plain to the angels? Through the church. Again, he says not merely the “varied” wisdom but the “many-sided” wisdom, that is, “multiplied and varied.” What, then, does this mean? Did the angels not know it? No, nothing of it. For if the rulers did not know it, much less could the angels ever have known it. What then? Did not even the archangels know it? No, not even they. Then how were they going to know it? Who was to reveal it? When we were taught it, they too were taught it, through us. Listen to what the angel says to Joseph: “You will call his name Jesus, for it is he who will save his people from their sins” (Matthew 1, verse 21).
Paul himself was sent to the Gentiles, the other apostles to the circumcised. So the more marvelous and astonishing commission was given, he says, “to me, who am less than the least.” And this too was of grace: that the least should have the greatest things entrusted to him, and should be made the herald of this news. For the one who is made the herald of the greater news is great in this very way.
“To preach to the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ.” If his “riches are unsearchable,” and that even after he has appeared, much more is his very being. If it is still a mystery, much more was it one before it was made known. For he calls it a mystery for this reason: because neither did the angels know it, nor was it plain to anyone else.
“And to make all people see,” he says, “what the plan of the mystery is, which from all ages has been hidden in God, who created all things.” The angels knew only this: that “the Lord’s portion was his people” (Deuteronomy 32, verses 8 and 9). And again it is said, “The prince of Persia withstood me” (Daniel 10, verse 13). So it is no wonder that they did not know this. For if they did not know the circumstances of the return from exile, much less would they know these things. For this is the good news: “It is he,” it says, “who will save his people” (Matthew 1, verse 21). Not a word about the Gentiles. But what concerns the Gentiles, the Spirit reveals. That the Gentiles were called, the angels did know. But that they were called to the same privileges as Israel — yes, even to sit on the throne of God — who would ever have expected this? Who would ever have believed it?
“Which has been hidden,” he says, “in God.”
This “plan,” however, he unfolds more clearly in the Letter to the Romans. “In God,” he goes on, “who created all things through Jesus Christ.” And he does well to say “through Jesus Christ.” For the one who created all things through him reveals this too through him; he has made nothing without him. “Without him,” it is said, “nothing was made” (John 1, verse 3).
When he speaks of “rulers” and “authorities,” he means both those above and those below.
“According to the eternal purpose.” It has been brought to pass now, he means, but it was not decided now; it had been planned beforehand, from the very first. “According to the eternal purpose which he purposed in Christ Jesus our Lord.” That is, according to his eternal foreknowledge, foreknowing the things to come — that is, he means, the ages to come. For he knew what was to be, and so he decided it. “According to the purpose of the ages”: of those ages, perhaps, which he made through Christ Jesus, since it was through Christ that everything was made.
Verse 12: “In whom,” he says, “we have boldness and access in confidence through our faith in him.”
“Have access” — not as prisoners, he says, nor as people seeking a pardon, nor as sinners. For, he says, we even have “boldness with confidence,” that is, with cheerful trust. And where does it come from? “Through our faith in him.”
Verse 13: “So I ask you not to lose heart at my distresses for you, which are your glory.”
How are they “for them”? How are they “their glory”? Because God loved them so much that he gave even his Son for them, and afflicted his servants for them. It was so that they might gain so many blessings that Paul was in prison. Surely this came from God’s overflowing love toward them. It is what God also says about the prophets: “I have slain them by the words of my mouth” (Hosea 6, verse 5).
But how could they lose heart when someone else was the one suffering? He means that they were troubled and distressed. He says this too when writing to the Thessalonians: “that no one be shaken by these afflictions” (First Thessalonians 3, verse 3). For not only ought we not to grieve; we ought even to rejoice. If you find comfort in being warned in advance, we tell you beforehand that here we have distress. And why, you ask? Because this is how the Lord has ordered it.
Verses 14 and 15: “For this reason I bow my knees to the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named.”
Here he shows the spirit in which he prays for them. He does not simply say, “I pray”; he shows that his petition comes from the heart by “the bowing of the knees.”
“From whom every family.” That is, he means, they are no longer reckoned by the number of the angels, but by him who created the tribes both in heaven above and on earth below — not in the Jewish way.
Verses 16 and 17: “That he would grant you, according to the riches of his glory, to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in the inner man; that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith.” See with what insatiable earnestness he calls down these blessings on them, so that they may not be tossed about. But how will this come about? By the “Holy Spirit in your inner man, that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith.” And how, again, will this be?
Verses 18 and 19: “So that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may be strong enough to grasp, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge.”
So his prayer now is once again the very same as when he began. For what were his words at the beginning? “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; the eyes of your heart being 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.” And now he says the same again: “That you may be strong enough to grasp, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth” — that is, to know perfectly the mystery that God in his providence has arranged on our behalf. “And the breadth and length and height and depth” means, too, the immensity of God’s love, and how it reaches everywhere. He sketches it by the visible dimensions of solid bodies, as though pointing to a man: he takes in what is above, what is below, and the sides.
It is as though he said: “I have spoken in this way, it is true; yet it is not for any words of mine to teach you these things. That must be the work of the Holy Spirit.” It is “by his might,” he says, that you must be “strengthened” against the trials that await you, and so remain unshaken. So there is no other way to be strengthened than by the Holy Spirit, both against trials and against fleshly reasoning.
But how does Christ dwell in hearts? Listen to what Christ himself says: “I and my Father will come to him and make our home with him” (John 14, verse 23). He dwells in hearts that are faithful, in those that are “rooted” in his love, in those that stay firm and unshaken.
“That you may be” thoroughly “strong,” he says; so great strength is needed. “That you may be filled to all the fullness of God.”
What he means is this. Although the love of Christ lies beyond the reach of all human knowledge, you will know it if you have Christ dwelling in you. Yes, and not only will you know this from him; you will even “be filled to all the fullness of God.” By “the fullness of God” he means either the knowledge of how God is worshiped in the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, or else he is urging them to make every effort to be filled with all virtue, of which God is full.
Verse 20: “Now to him who is able to do exceedingly abundantly beyond all that we ask or think, according to the power that works in us.” That God has done “abundantly beyond all that we ask or think” is plain from what the apostle himself has written. For he says: “I pray, it is true; but he, of himself, even without any prayer of mine, will do works greater than all we ask.” Not simply “greater,” nor “abundantly greater,” but “exceedingly abundantly.” And this is plain from “the power that works in us,” for we never asked for these things, nor did we expect them.
Verse 21: “To him be the glory,” he concludes, “in the church and in Christ Jesus, to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.”
He does well to close the discussion with prayer and a doxology. For it was right that he who has given us such vast gifts should be glorified and blessed. So this too is a fitting part of our amazement at his mercies: to give glory for the things God has given us through Jesus Christ.
“The glory in the church.” He could well say this, since the church alone can last on into eternity.
It seems necessary to state what is meant by “families.” Here on earth, indeed, there are “families,” that is, clans descended from one ancestor. But in heaven, how can this be, where no one is born of another? Surely, then, by “families” he means either the ranks and orders of heavenly beings — as we also find it written in Scripture, “the family of Amattari” (First Samuel 10, verse 21, in the Greek Old Testament) — or else that it is from him that earthly fathers have their name of father.
However, he does not ask everything of God; he demands faith and love of them as well — and not simply love, but love “rooted and grounded,” so that no storm winds can shake it and nothing else can overturn it. He had said that his “distresses” are their “glory.” It is as though he said: “If mine are that to you, much more will your own be.” So being afflicted is no sign that people have been abandoned; for he who has done such great things for us would never do that.
Again, if Paul had to pray in order to understand the love of God, and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit was needed, who will understand the nature of Christ by following mere reasoning? And why is it a hard thing to learn that God loves us? Beloved, it is extremely hard. Some do not know even this; that is why they say that countless evils come about in the world. And others do not know how far this love reaches. Nor, indeed, is Paul trying to learn its extent, or to measure it at all — how could he? — but only to understand that it surpasses everything and is great. And this very thing, he says, he is able to show, even from the knowledge that has been granted to us.
However, what is higher than being “strengthened with might” so as to have Christ within? He says, in effect: “The things we ask are vast, yet he is able to do more than even these.” So not only does he love us; he loves us intensely. Let us take care, then, beloved, to understand the love of God. This is a great thing indeed. Nothing does us so much good, nothing touches us so deeply; it has more power to win our souls than even the fear of hell. Where, then, will we come to understand it? Both from the sources just mentioned and from the things that happen every day. For from what motive were these things done for us? From what necessity on his part? None whatever. Over and over again he lays down love as the cause. But the highest degree of love is where people receive a kindness without having done anything first to call for it.
Loving Our Enemies
So let us imitate him. Let us do good to our enemies, to those who hate us; let us draw near to those who turn their backs on us. This makes us like God. “For if you love those who love you,” says Christ, “what reward do you have? Do not even the Gentiles do the same?” (Matthew 5, verse 46). But what is the sure proof of love? To love the one who hates you.
I want to give you an example — forgive me — and since I do not find one among the spiritual, I will take an instance from those outside. Do you not see those lovers? How many insults their mistresses heap on them, how many tricks they play on them, how many punishments they inflict! Yet they are chained to them, they burn for them, they love them more than their own lives, and they spend whole nights before their doors. Let us take our example from them — not, of course, to love such women as those, women who are prostitutes, I mean; no, but to love our enemies in this way.
For tell me, do not prostitutes treat their lovers with more insolence than all the enemies in the world? Do they not squander the men’s property, throw insults in their faces, and lay more slavish tasks on them than on their own servants? And still the men do not give up, though no one has so great an enemy in anyone as a lover has in his mistress. Yes, the beloved woman scorns him and reviles him and often mistreats him, and the more she is loved, the more she despises him. What could be more savage than a spirit like that? And yet he loves her still.
But perhaps we will find love like this among spiritual people too — not among those of our own day, for love has “grown cold” (Matthew 24, verse 12), but among those great and glorious men of old. Moses, the blessed Moses, surpassed even those who love with human passion. How, and in what way? First, he gave up the court, the luxury, the retinue, and the glory that went with it, and chose rather to be with the Israelites. No one else would ever have done this. Anyone else would even have been ashamed, if someone had found him out, to be discovered as a kinsman of men who were slaves — and not only slaves, but regarded as detestable. Yet he was not only unashamed of his kin; he defended them with all his heart and threw himself into dangers for their sake (Acts 7, verse 24). How? Seeing one man, it is said, doing wrong to one of them, he defended the one who was wronged and killed the one who did the wrong. But this was not yet done for enemies. It is a great act in itself, but not as great as what came afterward.
The next day, then, he saw the same thing happening. And when he saw the very man he had defended wronging his neighbor, he warned him to stop his wrongdoing. But the man said, with great ingratitude, “Who made you a ruler and a judge over us?” (Acts 7, verse 27). Who would not have flared up at words like these? Now if the earlier act had come from passion and frenzy, he would have struck and killed this man too; for surely the man on whose behalf it had been done would never have informed against him. But “because they were brothers,” it is said, he spoke as he did. When this Hebrew was being wronged himself, he said no such thing as “Who made you a ruler and a judge over us?” Moses might have answered: “Why did you not say this yesterday? Your injustice and your cruelty — these make me a ruler and a judge.”
But notice now that some people say as much even to God himself. Whenever they are wronged, they want him to be a God of vengeance, and they complain of his patience; but when they themselves do wrong, not for a moment.
However, what could be more bitter than words like these? And yet, after this, when he was sent to that ungrateful, that thankless people, he went, and did not shrink back. Yes, and after those miracles and the wonders done by his hand, they often tried to stone him to death, and he escaped out of their hands. They kept grumbling without end; and still, so passionately did he love them that when they committed that terrible sin he said to God, “Yet now, if you will forgive their sin, forgive it; and if not, blot me too out of the book you have written” (Exodus 32, verse 32). He says: “I would gladly perish with them rather than be saved without them.” Here truly is love to the point of madness, truly boundless love. What are you saying, Moses? Do you disregard heaven? “I do, for I love those who have wronged me.” Are you praying to be blotted out? “Yes. What can I do? It is love.”
And what came after these things? Listen to what Scripture says elsewhere: “And it went badly with Moses because of them” (Psalm 106, verse 32). How often did they run wild? How often did they reject both him and his brother? How often did they try to go back to Egypt? And yet after all these things he burned for them — yes, he was beside himself with love for them — and was ready to suffer for their sake. This is how one ought to love one’s enemies: by grieving over them, by unwearied endurance, by doing everything and showing every kindness, to aim at their salvation.
And tell me, what did Paul do? Did he not ask even to be accursed in their place? (Romans 9, verse 3). But the great pattern we must take from the Lord himself. For so he does too, where he says, “For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good” (Matthew 5, verse 45), drawing the example from his Father; but we draw ours from Christ himself.
He came to them — in his becoming man, I mean. He became a servant for their sake: “He humbled himself, he emptied himself, he took the form of a servant” (Philippians 2, verses 7 and 8). And when he came to them, he did not himself turn aside “into any way of the Gentiles” (Matthew 10, verse 5), and he gave the same command to his disciples. And not only that: “He went about healing every disease and every sickness” (Matthew 4, verse 23). And what then? All the others were astonished and marveled and said, “Where, then, did this man get all these things?” (Matthew 13, verse 56). But these people, the very ones he had done good to, said, “He has a demon” (John 10, verse 20), and “He blasphemes” (John 10, verse 36), and “He is mad,” and “He is a deceiver” (John 7, verse 12, and Matthew 27, verse 63).
Did he cast them off for that? No, not at all. When he heard these sayings, he did them good all the more remarkably, and went straight to the very people who were about to crucify him, only so that he might save them. And after he was crucified, what were his words? “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 23, verse 34). Cruelly treated before this, cruelly treated after it, to his very last breath, he did everything for them; he prayed on their behalf. Yes, and after the cross itself, what did he not do for their sake? Did he not send apostles? Did he not work miracles? Did he not shake the whole world?
This is how we ought to love our enemies; this is how we ought to imitate Christ. This is what Paul did. Stoned, suffering countless cruelties, he still did everything for their good. Listen to his own words: “My heart’s desire and my prayer to God for them is that they may be saved” (Romans 10, verses 1 and 2). And again:
“For I bear them witness that they have a zeal for God.” And again: “If you, being a wild olive tree, were grafted in, how much more will these be grafted into their own olive tree?” (Romans 11, verse 24). How tender, do you think, must be the affection these words come from, how vast the goodwill? It is impossible to express — impossible.
This is how we ought to love our enemies. This is to love God, who has commanded it, who has given it as his law. To imitate him is to love our enemy. Remember, it is not your enemy you are doing good to, but yourself; you are not loving him, you are obeying God. Knowing these things, then, let us strengthen our love for one another, so that we may carry out this duty perfectly and attain the good things promised in Christ Jesus our Lord, with whom, to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might, and honor, now and forever and ever. Amen.