CHAPTER 3
Ephesians 1:15–23
LISTEN to the Story
15For this reason, ever since I heard about your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love for all God’s people, 16I have not stopped giving thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers. 17I keep asking that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, may give you the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that you may know him better. 18I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, 19and his incomparably great power for us who believe. That power is the same as the mighty strength 20he exerted when he raised Christ from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly realms, 21far above all rule and authority, power and dominion, and every name that is invoked, not only in the present age but also in the one to come. 22And God placed all things under his feet and appointed him to be head over everything for the church, 23which is his body, the fullness of him who fills everything in every way.
Listening to the text in the Story: Exodus 3:1–15; Psalm 110; Matthew 25:31–46; 28:18–20; John 1:14–18; Romans 5:1–5; 1 Corinthians 12; Philippians 1:3–11; 2:5–11; Colossians 1:3–14; 1 Thessalonians 1:2–10; Revelation 5:1–14.
Following the expansive doxology of 1:3–14, Ephesians 1:15–23 summarizes Paul’s prayers of thanksgiving and intercession for the letter’s recipients. In Greek, this prayer report is a single, complex sentence of 169 words (a little shorter than the 202-word sentence in 1:3–14); English translations divide 1:15–23 into several sentences. After a short description of his thanks for the recipients, Paul tells them what he is asking God to do for them. This leads into an extensive reflection on the resurrection and exaltation of Christ, which sets the stage for the introduction of the church as the body of Christ. The chapter ends in an intriguing fashion, by identifying the church as “the fullness of him who fills everything in every way” (1:23). Ephesians 1:15–23 introduces several major themes of the letter, including the importance of knowledge, the role of spiritual powers, and the church as the body of Christ.
EXPLAIN the Story
Summary of Ephesians 1:15–23
After mentioning the faith and love of the letter’s recipients, Paul reports on his prayers for them. Verse 16 acknowledges his sustained thanksgiving and transitions into the next section of the report. Verses 17–19 record Paul’s request that those who read Ephesians be given deeper knowledge of God and his blessings. The first two blessings focus on the future: “hope” and “glorious inheritance” (1:18). The third blessing is experienced in the present: God’s “great power for us who believe” (1:19). The reference to this power, which was demonstrated in the resurrection and exaltation of Christ, leads to a proclamation of the sovereignty of Christ over all spiritual entities “in the heavenly realms” (1:20–21). In light of this divine victory, the church is introduced as Christ’s “body, the fullness of him who fills everything in every way” (1:23).
Sustained Thanksgiving (1:15–16)
Hellenistic letters commonly began with a short prayer to the gods, including a thanksgiving. Paul follows this practice, though he says much more than was typical. As he does in several letters (for example, Phil 1:3–11), Paul begins Ephesians by sharing his gratitude to God before reporting on his supplication for those who will read his letter.
For this reason (1:15). This phrase connects the prayer report in 1:15–23 with the extensive eulogy that celebrates God’s blessings for those who are in Christ (1:3–14). Several emphases from the eulogy are picked up in the prayer report, including belief, the Spirit, inheritance, and God’s glory. Paul is grateful, ultimately, for what the gracious God is doing in their lives.
I heard about your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love for all God’s people (1:15). “I heard about” suggests that Paul does not know at least some of the recipients of his letter. Yet he is grateful because they are strong in two of the essentials of the Pauline triad: faith, hope, and love (1 Cor 13:13; 1 Thess 1:3). In fact the second element, hope, will appear in 1:18 as something Paul prays that the recipients will come to know.
The phrase “faith in the Lord Jesus” can mean either faith that has “the Lord” as its object (we trust in the Lord) or faith we have within the sphere of life defined by Christ (as those who exist in the Lord, we have faith). Arguments can be made for either option, though I find the first more likely. In Greek, en can specify the object of belief, as in Mark 1:15, “Repent and believe [in] the good news [pisteuete en tō euaggeliō].” Moreover, in Ephesians 1:15 faith that is directed at the Lord seems consistent with what follows: love that is directed toward all of God’s holy people.
I have not stopped giving thanks for you (1:16). Hellenistic letter writers sometimes claimed to “pray without ceasing” for their addressees; Paul follows this practice (for example, Col 1:9; 1 Thess 1:2). He hardly means that he has been praying for them every second. Rather, using a common figure of speech, Paul indicates that he has been praying regularly and consistently for them. Thus, he affirms his relationship with them and models a life of consistent prayer.
Remembering you in my prayers (1:16). This phrase is dependent grammatically on “I have not stopped giving thanks,” and it serves as a bridge to the intercession that follows. Paul models what he commands in Philippians 4:6, mingling supplication with thanksgiving.
Knowing God and His Blessings (1:17–19)
In the NIV, verse 17 is a new sentence beginning with “I keep asking that.” In the original, verse 17 is a continuation of the sentence that began with verse 15. Paul has not stopped giving thanks for the recipients of his letter, remembering them in his prayers, “[that] the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, may give . . .” (1:17).
This identification of God is reminiscent of 1:3, “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ,” though it adds a new element, “glorious.” “Glorious Father” faithfully captures the meaning of the literal construction, “the father of glory.” Glory has already figured prominently in Ephesians: “to the praise of [God’s] glorious grace” (1:6); and “the praise of his glory” (1:12, 14). Even though Paul has moved from praise to supplication, an undercurrent of worship still pervades his requests.
The Spirit of wisdom and revelation (1:17). In 1:17–19 Paul asks God to help the readers of Ephesians grow in knowledge of God and his blessings. In the NIV he asks God to give “the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that you may know him better” (1:17). The Greek behind this translation reads more precisely “a spirit [pneuma, without the definite article] of wisdom and revelation.” This opens the possibility that Paul is referring not to the Holy Spirit but to some human “spirit” or capacity for knowing. Several English translations lean in this direction: both the CEB and the NRSV prefer “give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation.” Similarly, Ephesians 4:23 says we are “to be made new in the attitude [pneuma] of [our] minds.” It’s possible that this is the sense of “spirit” in 1:17. Yet if a “spirit of wisdom” might be possible in 1:17, a spirit “of revelation” seems “virtually unintelligible.”1 Moreover, in Ephesians 3 the Spirit is identified as the divine source of revelation (3:4–5; see also 1 Cor 2:10; 12:8). Ephesians 1:17 echoes Isaiah 11:1–2, where “the Spirit of wisdom and of understanding” will rest on the “shoot” from the stump of Jesse.2 So the NIV rightly takes Paul as asking God to give “the [Holy] Spirit of wisdom and revelation.”
So that you may know him better (1:17). The Greek of this phrase reads “in knowledge of him [en epignōsei autou].” Given that Paul is writing to believers who already know God through Christ, the NIV rightly renders it as “know him better.” This knowledge will include theological content, to be sure. But in Scripture, knowing God is never just a matter of intellectual understanding. It is also deeply personal, relational, and experienced by a community. It includes experience, emotions, and intimate communication as well as right thinking. (As an illustration of how personal and intimate is this knowing, the Hebrew verb “to know” is even capable of being a euphemism for sexual intercourse.3) Throughout Ephesians, knowledge is an essential element of the Christian life, without which we cannot be the people God intends us to be.
I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened (1:18). In addition to praying that the readers of Ephesians might know God better, Paul asks that they might know more of God’s blessings. The Greek uses a perfect participle (“having been enlightened,” pephōtismenous), which may indicate an additional request (as in the NIV) or alternatively something that has already occurred or is occurring (as in the ESV, “having the eyes of your hearts enlightened”). Either way, having the “eyes” of our inner being enlightened allows us to know God’s blessings more deeply, namely: “the hope to which he has called you,” “the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people,” and “his incomparably great power for us who believe” (1:18–19). These blessings constitute the specific content of the knowledge for which Paul prays in this passage.
The hope to which he has called you (1:18). The first two blessings for which Paul prays have to do with the future: hope and glorious inheritance. The Greek is more precise: that you may know “the hope of his calling” (1:18). “Calling” echoes earlier affirmations in Ephesians 1: God chose us (1:4), predestined us (1:5), revealed his plan for the cosmos to us (1:9–10), and determined that we should exist for “the praise of his glory” (1:12, 14). These echoes indicate that the calling in verse 18 is “his” calling of Christians to believe and to participate in his work of uniting all things in Christ. Later in 4:4 this calling will be seen from a human perspective as our calling.
Though Ephesians often focuses on the present experience of believers, God’s plan points to the future, when all things will be brought together in Christ. This is the center of our hope according to Ephesians. When English speakers use the word “hope,” we imply that the state of affairs we desire is somehow uncertain. We may hope that tomorrow’s weather will be delightful. On the other hand, we would not say that we hope tomorrow’s date will be different than today’s. This second usage is in play here: when Paul speaks of hope, he is not implying a lack confidence about the future. Rather, hope is the future reality about which we may be fully assured right now. This assurance is based on God’s actions in history, most of all in Christ, as well as the work of the Holy Spirit in us (Rom 5:5; 15:13).
The riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people (1:18). This phrase presents a challenge not unlike the one found in verses 11 and 14, which could mean either that God has inherited us or that we have received an inheritance from God. Similarly in verse 18, the “glorious inheritance” could be God’s inheriting his holy people or his holy people inheriting good things from God. Though arguments can be made for both interpretations, the fact that the text refers to “God’s inheritance [tēs klēronomias autou]” suggests that God is the one doing the inheriting. (Grammatically, the genitive “of him” could mean that God is the source of the inheritance, however.) Moreover, the main storyline of Ephesians 1 emphasizes God’s choice of us to belong to him as his holy people and beloved children. Thus, the fact that God will fully inherit us in the future fits beautifully in the story. Yes, we will inherit many blessings in the future, but this is not the main point of Ephesians 1:18.
Incomparably great power for us who believe (1:19). In this, the third petition, Paul accentuates the greatness of God’s power by stacking words upon words: to huperballon megethos tēs dunameōs autou—literally, “immeasurable greatness of his power”; and then kata tēn energeian tou kratous tēs ischuos autou—“according to the energy of the might of his strength.” Yet words are hardly necessary, because God’s power is seen most dramatically “when he raised Christ from the dead” (1:20). The power of the resurrection is “for us who believe” (1:19). The Greek preposition eis, translated here as “for,” does not mean that God’s power is in us (though this is true through the Spirit). Rather, eis emphasizes the fact that God’s power is for us, for our benefit.
To be sure, this power is something we each experience individually. But the plural “for us” suggests that God’s power is for God’s people together. Similarly, God’s inheritance of “his holy people” underscores the corporate dimension of Paul’s prayers. In Ephesians the emphasis is upon the people of God together being claimed as God’s own.
The Sovereignty of Christ and the Introduction of the Church (1:19–23)
In Greek, the sentence in the middle of verse 19 that begins “That power is the same” is part of the single-sentence prayer report that extends from verse 15 through verse 23. Yet the passage beginning in the middle of verse 19 is less a part of Paul’s prayerful request and more a celebration of Christ’s sovereignty. In the midst of this celebration, Paul introduces the church in a most perplexing way.
Seated him at his right hand in the heavenly realms (1:20). If God’s power is seen most clearly in the resurrection of Christ (1:20), it is also glimpsed when God then “seated him at his right hand in the heavenly realms.” In our earlier examination of 1:3 we showed that “the heavenly realms” (in Greek, “the heavenlies”) are the domain of supernatural beings, including God, angels, and all sorts of evil powers. And what happens in the heavenly realms affects life on earth.
God dwells in the highest level of the heavenlies and that’s where he has enthroned the exalted Christ. In the ancient world, to be seated at the right hand of a sovereign was to be in a place of honor, power, and glory. This means that Christ shares in God’s authority and even in his worship. This is made clear in Philippians 2, where God exalted Christ “to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father” (Phil 2:9–11).
Far above all rule and authority (1:21). If Christ has been enthroned alongside God, then, by very definition, he has been exalted “far above all rule and authority, power and dominion, and every name that is invoked, not only in the present age but also in the one to come” (1:21). The entities identified here figure prominently in Ephesians. In The Drama of Ephesians, Timothy Gombis devotes a chapter to what he calls, “Some Mysterious Actors on the Stage.”4 These actors are the “powers and authorities” who “have a long history in the Scriptures and in Jewish tradition.”5 According to this tradition, God created supernatural beings to help rule the cosmos. When these beings rebelled against God’s authority, they assumed a malevolent influence over the earth. In 1 Corinthians 2:6–8 for example, Paul refers to the “rulers of this age” who participated in Christ’s crucifixion. Contrary to some interpretations of this text, the rulers in 1 Corinthians 2 are not merely human leaders, institutions, or social forces.6 Rather, they are supernatural beings who exist and operate in the heavenly realms and from there have an earthly impact.
In Ephesians, these powers appear in four additional passages. According to 2:2, before we were saved, we “followed the ways of this world and of the ruler of the kingdom of the air, the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient.” In 3:10, the “manifold wisdom of God” will be revealed “to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly realms.” In 4:26–27, we are told not to let our anger “give the devil a foothold.” Finally, in the most detailed treatment of the powers in Ephesians, 6:12 states, “For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.” Not only are there abundant and diverse evil powers in the heavens, but these powers are our opponents. This would be frightening news, except for the fact that Christ reigns over all powers. There is no name invoked at any time that is not subordinate to the authority of Christ: neither Satan, nor the Greek god Zeus, nor even Artemis, whose spectacular temple in Ephesus would have been a regular sight for some of the recipients of Paul’s letter.
And God placed all things under his feet (1:22). This additional claim underscores the authority of Christ, using biblical psalms that early Christians applied to him. Psalm 8:6 says to the Lord, “You have made [human beings] rulers over the works of your hands; you put everything under their feet.” But this psalm is now applied to Christ through the influence of Psalm 110:1, which the early church took as a messianic prophecy: “The LORD says to my lord: ‘Sit at my right hand until I make your enemies a footstool for your feet.’ ” If one combines Psalm 110:1 with Psalm 8:6, as Paul did, it results in the sort of statement made in Ephesians 1:22: “God placed all things under [Christ’s] feet.” The stories of God’s work in the Old Testament are picked up, interwoven, and applied to Christ in a story both old and new.
Appointed him to be head over everything for the church (1:22). In the final words of chapter 1, Paul introduces one of the central “characters” in Ephesians: the church. This introduction reveals essential qualities of the church, even as it raises puzzling issues. In 1:22, not only did God place everything under Christ’s feet, but also he “appointed him to be head over everything for the church.” The verb rendered as “appointed” could be translated more literally as God “gave” (edōken). God gave Christ as head over everything for the church’s benefit or advantage. Curiously, Christ is not identified here as the head over the church or of the church, but rather the head over all things for the church. If we remember that the church’s opponents are the evil powers in the heavenlies, and if we recognize that they are included among the “all things” over which Christ rules, then what Paul says here would surely have encouraged his readers. Christ’s authority over the powers means that the church, however powerless it may feel in the moment, shares in Christ’s victory. The power that is for us is superior in every way to the evil powers that oppose us. This truth would be especially encouraging to the first recipients of Ephesians, an insignificant minority in the Greco-Roman world surrounded by prominent “gods” and their influential adherents. But if God put all the powers under Christ’s authority, then his followers could feel confident and hopeful no matter how challenging their earthly life might be.
Much needs to be said about the church, but I’ll hold part of the discussion for later (see especially commentary on 2:11–22; 3:8–12; 4:1–6, 7–16). At this point, it’s worth noting that the Greek word for church, ekklēsia, in other contexts means a regular “legislative body” or informal “gathering.”7 Yet Paul’s use of ekklēsia was influenced strongly by the Jewish use of the Hebrew word qahal, translated as ekklēsia in the Greek Old Testament (Septuagint), where it refers to the congregation of God’s people. In many of his letters, Paul uses ekklēsia to refer to actual gatherings of believers. In Ephesians, however, ekklēsia takes on a much wider, less local sense. It refers, perhaps, to the universal collection of all Christians or to all believers as if they were gathered together in the heavenly realms in Christ. No matter how we understand ekklēsia at this point in our reading of Ephesians, its appearance in 1:23 highlights the corporate dimension of Paul’s prayer report.
Which is his body, the fullness of him who fills everything in every way (1:23). Paul concludes his prayer report: Christ is the head, and the church is the body. But Paul does not stop with the conclusion that Christ is the head of the church. Rather, the church is also “the fullness of him who fills everything in every way” (1:23), a phrase that is disputed among the commentators.8 The main questions include: Does “fullness” refer to the body/church or to Christ? What is the meaning of “fullness”? What is the meaning of “who fills everything in every way”? The best rendering of the original is the one taken by the NIV (and many others, see ESV, CEB, NRSV, KJV): “fullness” is in apposition to “body” (the body which is the fullness) not Christ who is the fullness.
Next we must examine the sense of “fullness”; it translates the Greek word plērōma, which appears four times in Ephesians. In 1:10 it is used in the phrase “when the times reach their fulfillment.” In 3:19 Paul prays that the recipients of his letter “may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.” According to 4:13 the church is to grow in unity and stature until it attains “to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ” (in all cases, emphasis added). In 1:23, the church is already the fullness of Christ. In 4:13, the church is growing into Christ’s fullness. Thus when it comes to fullness, the church is to become more completely what it already is in Christ.
The language of fullness, though it might have been familiar to the first recipients of Ephesians because of its use in philosophical and religious circles, seems strange to our ears. In our effort to understand this language, we get help from The Message, which interprets 1:23 in this way: “The church is Christ’s body, in which he speaks and acts, by which he fills everything with his presence.” The language of presence may help us grasp the elusive sense of fullness. The church is the fullness of Christ in that Christ is truly present in the church. He will fill the universe with his presence through the church.
The claim that Christ “is filling everything in every way” is another way of expressing God’s plan in Ephesians 1:10, to bring “unity to all things in heaven and on earth under Christ.” The Greek phrase translated as “all things” in 1:10 is ta panta; likewise in 1:23, Christ is filling “everything,” ta panta, in every way. So 1:10 envisions all things summed up and rightly ordered under Christ, while 1:23 envisions all things filled by Christ’s presence. These are different but compatible visions of the cosmos as God intends the whole creation to be perfectly arranged by and completely filled by Christ.
The church as the body of Christ, as his fullness or presence, plays a central role in God’s drama of restoring the cosmos. Later in Ephesians, Paul will spell out in greater detail how the church can benefit from and participate in God’s work of uniting all things in Christ, which is to say, filling all things with Christ’s presence.
LIVE the Story
Paul reports on his prayer for the recipients of Ephesians not only because such descriptions of prayer were conventional in letters and not merely because he wanted the recipients to know how he prayed. Rather, the prayer report in 1:15–23 adds to the story of God’s plan for the cosmos found in 1:3–14, thus encouraging all readers of Ephesians. Paul’s example also invites us to enlarge and enrich our prayers by shaping them in light of God’s story.
Prayers Enlarged and Enriched by the Story of God
Now that we’ve examined Paul’s prayer report in 1:15–23, I want to ask: Do you pray this way? If you are a pastor or church leader, do you pray like this for the people God has entrusted to you? If you are a parent, do you pray like this for your children? No matter the context in which you find yourself, do your prayers sound anything like this prayer?
I know a few people who could honestly answer “yes” to these questions. Years ago, I served on the staff of Hollywood Presbyterian Church under the leadership of Dr. Lloyd Ogilvie. In staff meetings as we interceded for our congregation, Lloyd’s prayers often sounded like Paul’s prayer in Ephesians 1. Lloyd wouldn’t pray only about the immediate needs and concerns of our church family. He’d also ask the Lord to do things like help our members know the hope of God’s calling, the riches of his glorious inheritance, and his incomparably great power for us as a church. Lloyd had steeped his mind so deeply in Scripture that prayers of this sort came naturally to him.
Most of us don’t pray like this. We tend to pray for immediate needs, for things like financial help and daily guidance. Many of us are particularly adept at praying for healing for others when they are not present. I’ve been in many Christian groups who spend most of the time praying for “Jim’s cousin’s neighbor’s friend.” I am not suggesting that there is anything wrong with such specific prayers or that God doesn’t care about the smallest things in life. Our problem isn’t that we pray for too many tiny needs; it’s that we don’t pray for enough big ones. One main reason we don’t pray with broad vision is that our prayers are not shaped and stretched by the biblical story of God.
Paul’s prayers for the readers of Ephesians, as reported in 1:15–23, reflect his understanding of God’s story. He asks God to grant “the Spirit of wisdom and revelation” because he knows that God has poured out his Spirit on all flesh and continues to gift his people through the Spirit. Paul asks God that we might “know him better” because Paul is well aware of stories throughout Scripture in which God reveals himself to his people. Paul asks God to help us know “the hope to which he has called us” because Paul knows where the story of God is heading. When Paul asks that we know God’s power, he remembers the resurrection of Jesus. Paul’s prayer includes an inspired narration of the exaltation of Christ.
We can find many other examples in Scripture of prayers sculpted by a deep grasp of God’s story. In Nehemiah 1:5–11, for example, Nehemiah asks God to give him success as he brings a special request to the king. Almost half of his prayer focuses on what God has done in the past: keeping his covenant, instructing his people, and promising to gather them together again if they repent (Neh 1:5, 8–9). In Acts 4, when the first Christians were commanded by the Sanhedrin to stop talking about Jesus, they gathered to pray for God’s help (Acts 4:24–30). Their request for boldness and miraculous power fills the final two verses of their prayer, but the first five verses recount what God has said and done. Many of the biblical psalms narrate in detail the story of God’s relationship with Israel. Psalm 106, for example, ends with a request to be saved and gathered from the nations (106:47). The first forty-six verses of this psalm tell the story of God’s mercy in spite of Israel’s sin. Next, Psalm 107 calls us to thanksgiving by reminding us in forty-three verses of God’s unfailing love revealed through his many acts of mercy.
If you’re not used to praying the story of God, it can seem strange to do so. You might wonder why God needs to hear the story he authored and in which he is featured. I expect that reciting God’s story in prayer is less for God’s benefit and more for ours. I learned this lesson from Howard E. Butt, Jr., the founder of Laity Lodge and my mentor during the years I worked there. Howard prays the story of God as a regular spiritual discipline. He explains:
In my morning quiet time, I start by being thankful for the trustworthiness of God. Eventually, I ask for spiritual guidance in the dilemmas of the moment, but first I concentrate on God’s character and His action in history. Beginning with praise and thanksgiving pulls me out of my subjective hullabaloo and turns my thoughts to God’s reliability, which He has proven again and again. Trusting God is first of all a matter of remembering who He is and what He has done for us.9
In his book Who Can You Trust? Howard writes, “When I’m in a really bad place, I make it a habit to mentally review before God—daily if necessary—my own private history. I deliberately go back and plug it into God’s Holy History: Creation, biblical Israel, Jesus and the Incarnation, his Cross and Resurrection, his Ascension and outpoured Spirit, the Church.” Then, Howard remembers before God some of the momentous events of church history, his family’s history, and his personal experience of God’s faithfulness. What is the result of this recital of God’s actions? “Inevitably,” Howard says, “such a review overwhelms me with God’s faithfulness, and makes my current bad patch no huge problem—at all—for Him.”10
Yet Howard does not pray the story of God only in his private devotions. He does this also with others. On many occasions when I was with Howard, either in private mentoring sessions or in leadership meetings, he’d open with a prayer that spent several minutes reviewing God’s mighty deeds, beginning with creation, the call of Abraham, the exodus, and so forth. He’d always end up focusing on what God did in Christ and what God will do in the future. Then, with his expectations formed by the recital of God’s story, Howard would pray for the needs of the moment, but not in the way we Christians commonly do. Rather, he’d pray expansively, asking a great God for great things.
I confess that I have a long way to go when it comes to praying God’s story. I haven’t yet developed the mature discipline of people like Howard Butt. Yet I have been encouraged by his example, not to mention the example of Paul in Ephesians, to include in my daily prayers a short recapitulation of some part of God’s story. Usually this is based on whatever biblical text I am using for my personal devotions. There is nothing complicated about this practice. Basically, I let the text of Scripture become the content of my prayers. For example, if I were praying on the basis of Ephesians 1:15–23, I might say something like this:
God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, thank you for your Spirit, who reveals to us who you are. Thank you for the hope of your calling and for the fact that we are your glorious inheritance. Thank you for your great power that is for our good and for making this power known to us through the resurrection of Christ. Thank you for enthroning Christ above all other powers in the whole cosmos and for placing all things under his feet for the church. Thank you for being fully present in the church and for making your presence known through the church to the universe. Help me, I pray, to know you better and to know the blessings you bestow on your people. May I have confident hope in you. May I rejoice that I am numbered among your glorious inheritance. May I experience your power that is for your people. May I live each day with the confidence that Christ reigns above all powers. May your church live truly as your body, full of your presence, making your presence more fully known throughout the world. All praise and glory be to you, O God. Amen.
Knowing God
In his prayer, Paul focuses on the knowledge of God. He prays that God would give us “the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that [we] may know him better” (1:17). He asks that “the eyes of [our] heart may be enlightened in order that [we] may know” the hope of God’s calling, his glorious inheritance, and his great power (1:18–19).
The importance of “knowing” pervades Ephesians. Consider how the following words and phrases show up throughout the letter: “with all wisdom and understanding” (1:8); “wisdom and revelation” (1:17); “you may know” (1:18); “mystery made known” (3:3); “understand my insight” (3:4); “be made known” (3:10); “to know this love” (3:19); “knowledge of the Son of God” (4:13); “understanding” (4:18); “your minds” (4:23); “not as unwise but as wise” (5:15); “understand” (5:17); “make known the mystery” (6:19).
Ephesians is most concerned, of course, about a particular kind of knowledge, the knowledge of God and his ways. Paul writes this letter so that those who read it might know God better (1:17). Paul wants us to know the plan of God to unite all things in Christ (1:9–10). He wants us to know the love of Christ “that surpasses knowledge” (3:19). He writes so that the church might “reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God” (4:13).
Ephesians tells a distinctive story about how we come to know God and his truth. In our life before Christ, we were trapped in the “futility of [our] thinking” and were “darkened in [our] understanding” (4:17–18). Worse still, we were “separated from the life of God because of the ignorance” that was in us (4:18). Yet by grace, God made known to us the mystery of his will “with all wisdom and understanding” (1:8). We were “made new in the attitude of [our] minds” (4:23). We learned the way of Christ and “were taught in him in accordance with the truth that is in Jesus” (4:21). When we know this truth and speak it in love, then we will grow up as the body of Christ (4:15–16). We will “reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ” (4:13).
Paul’s desire for us to grow in the knowledge of God and his ways can be seen not only in the things he says about the centrality of knowledge but also in the fact that this epistle exists at all. The main point of this letter is Paul’s passing on the story of God’s work, including his plan for the cosmos. When we know this story, we will be inspired, empowered, and, yes, obliged to live our whole life for God’s glory.
Even in today’s increasingly secular world, millions upon millions of people want to know God. In Western culture, for example, we are stirred by the metanarrative (the story that controls all our stories) of the religious seeker, the one who sets aside traditional religion and doctrinal clarity in order to search for God. This search might take us to all sorts of exotic religious and philosophical destinations. Along the way, we are free to pick and choose the elements of our own belief system. The God we end up knowing is the “God” we have pieced together from all that we have collected along the way.
An example of this kind of religious search and its results is found in the landmark study of American culture, Habits of the Heart, by Robert Bellah and his team. They describe the religion of a person they call Sheila Larson who told them: “I believe in God. I’m not a religious fanatic. I can’t remember the last time I went to church. My faith has carried me a long way. It’s Sheilaism. Just my own little voice.” The core of her own “Sheilaism” could be put this way: “It’s just try to love yourself and be gentle with yourself. You know, I guess, take care of each other. I think He would want us to take care of each other.”11 Though Sheila is an extreme case of the democratic, individualistic American spirit, nevertheless, for many it rings true that we can and should know God on our own terms.
This is not the biblical story of knowing God, however. Rather, according to Scripture, we know God only because God makes himself known to us. We know God through revelation. Though certain truths about God can be discerned through God’s self-revelation in nature (see Ps 8; Rom 1:18–23), deep knowledge of God comes only through what is called “special revelation.” In the story of Moses, for example, God makes himself known to Moses at the burning bush (Exod 3:1–15). God reveals his power through ten plagues (Exod 7–12). God makes himself and his plans known to the Israelites by demonstrating his holiness to them at Mt. Sinai, entering into a covenant relationship with them, and giving them his law (Exod 19–20). Throughout the Old Testament God acts and speaks, thus revealing his identity, character, and will.
God’s supreme revelation comes not merely in words or deeds but most of all in the incarnation of the divine Word. According to John 1, this Word was present with God in creation and is, in fact, God (John 1:1). At a point of time, “The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14). John adds, “No one has ever seen God, but the one and only Son, who is himself God and is in closest relationship with the Father, has made him known” (John 1:18). Similarly in language reminiscent of Ephesians 1, Paul’s letter to the Colossians affirms the unique presence of God in Christ: “For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things” (Col 1:19–20).
Though God has revealed himself fully in Jesus Christ, the Word made flesh, we will know Christ truly only in the context of God’s story. The one we call Christ is the Messiah of Israel, a role that makes sense only in terms of the wider narrative of God’s relationship with the Israelites. The Lord Jesus must also be understood in light of the story of his incarnation, proclamation, demonstration, humiliation, crucifixion, resurrection, and exaltation (for example, Phil 2:5–11). We will know what it means for Christ to be our Savior when we remember how God saved the Israelites from slavery in Egypt. We will know Christ as our Redeemer when we see him in the story that begins with creation and ends with the new creation.
Knowing God, therefore, isn’t something fixed and static, some list of facts that we master and then move on to other things. Rather, it is a lifelong growing in our understanding and experience of God. The prayer in Ephesians 1:15–23 reminds us that no matter how well we think we know God, there is always more to be known.
When I was a freshman in college, I went through a difficult season of doubt. Though I had been a Christian for years, I wasn’t sure I believed anymore. I worried that I would never be able to have faith in God, let alone know God. Yet God through his grace did indeed give me the Spirit of wisdom and revelation so that I might believe in him and know him. I renewed my faith in God and committed myself to knowing him better.
A friend then suggested that I might be helped by a recently published book. So I trekked down to the Logos Bookstore in Harvard Square to see if I could find it. Sure enough, there on the shelves were many copies of Knowing God by J. I. Packer.12 I eagerly bought a copy, thus claiming my very first book of theology.
From Packer I learned that “one can know a great deal about God without much knowledge of him.”13 As he explains, “Interest in theology, and knowledge about God, and the capacity to think clearly and talk well on Christian themes, is not at all the same thing as knowing him.”14 Knowing God, according to Packer, is first of all “a matter of personal dealing, as is all direct acquaintance with personal beings.”15 Second, it is “a matter of personal involvement—mind, will and feeling.”16 Third, “knowing God is a matter of grace. It is a relationship in which the initiative throughout is with God.”17
When we speak of knowing God as something personal, those of us who are influenced by the individualism of American culture and religion might naturally assume that one’s personal knowledge of God is one’s private business. We assume that God reveals his truth to us individually and that we ought to make sense of it on our own. We end up practicing a Christian version of Sheilaism.
From a biblical perspective, however, knowing God is deeply personal but also profoundly corporate. It is shared knowledge of God, knowledge shaped not just by personal discoveries but also by the shared beliefs and practices of the people of God. Paul does not state this explicitly in Ephesians, but it is an assumption that pervades his prayer report in chapter 1 as well as the whole letter. Plus it is a clear implication of his teaching about the church. As we’ll see later, we will grow in our personal faith when we are part of a growing Christian community where all members speak the truth in love to one another.
The story of God is an essential element of this truth. If we want to know God personally, we would do well to listen to his story in Scripture. This story prepares us to know God through his incomparable revelation in Jesus Christ, the Word incarnate. This story is something we tell, celebrate, enact, embody, and pass on when we come together as the people of God. Moreover, because we recognize that knowing God is more than knowing about God, and that it is a gift of God’s grace, we echo Paul’s prayers in Ephesians 1, both for ourselves and for others, asking that “the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, may give [us] the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that [we] may know him better.”
1. Thielman, Ephesians, 96.
2. Yoder Neufeld, Ephesians, 70.
3. BDB 393–95 (yada).
4. Timothy G. Gombis, The Drama of Ephesians: Participating in the Triumph of God (Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2010), 35–58. See also D. G. Reid, “Principalities and Powers,” DPL 746–52.
5. Gombis, Drama, 36.
6. Walter Wink shows how the language of powers has sociological implications, but he goes too far when he denies the supernatural reality of the powers. See Naming the Powers: The Language of Power in the New Testament (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1984).
7. BDAG 303–4.
8. See, for example, Lincoln, Ephesians, 72–78; Arnold, Ephesians, 116–20.
9. Howard E. Butt, Jr., “How to Pray About Your Work,” http://www.thehighcalling.org/family/how-pray-about-your-work.
10. Howard E. Butt, Jr., Who Can You Trust? Overcoming Betrayal and Fear (Amazon digital, 2009), Kindle edition, 2764, 2787.
11. Robert N. Bellah, Richard Madsen, William M. Sullivan, Ann Swidler, and Steven M. Tipton, Habits of the Heart: Individualism and Commitment in American Life (Berkley: University of California Press, 1985), 221.
12. J. I. Packer, Knowing God (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1975).
13. Packer, Knowing God, 21.
14. Packer, Knowing God, 22.
15. Packer, Knowing God, 34.
16. Packer, Knowing God, 35.
17. Packer, Knowing God, 36.