A time capsule holds much more than a mere eclectic collection of artifacts. You probably can guess the world’s most famous time capsule. Actually, it’s two capsules with exactly the same information. They are 12-inch gold-plated phonographs placed on both Voyager spacecraft launched in 1977. They include images, songs, spoken words and other information that, according to NASA, were “intended to communicate a story of our world to extraterrestrials.”
My favorite time capsule is a box buried near the original front doors of First Baptist Church in Lewisville. The time capsule committee (Baptists have committees for everything) included a picture I took in 1996, when my young daughters and I watched workers hang the steeple atop the sanctuary. If I remember correctly—and anyone there thinks of it—they will open that capsule this fall, 25 years later.
Time capsules play roles for the people who both pack and unpack them. The packers choose significant artifacts, hoping to convey important messages about themselves for generations to come. The unpackers seek to discover more about their predecessors—and, quite often, to learn if they have anything in common.
Ephesians 2:11-22, seems like a divine time capsule. You could say every Bible passage is a time capsule—just like the old joke about “Jesus” being the answer to every Sunday School question. But this passage echoes across the centuries and reverberates into the Christian church and contemporary society. That echo carries messages just as important today as they were almost 2,000 years ago.
The title of this sermon is “From Weird, Icky & Gross, to Humility, Acceptance and Grace.” The first half of the title takes its cue from how people these days respond to some of the words and concepts in this passage.
In verse 11, the Apostle Paul references people by the phrases “the uncircumcision” and “the circumcision.” You likely know that’s shorthand for dividing the world into two camps—Gentiles and Jews. It’s based upon the defining ritual of the Jewish people, circumcising their eight-day-old boys. Today, those words prompt debate regarding whether the practice is torturous or humane. And many people think the whole discussion is weird and icky.
Beyond that, in verse 13, Paul says people who were far from God “have been brought near in the blood of Christ.” Throughout history, people have been put off by the notion of Jesus’ physical sacrifice, shedding his blood. That came as quite a shock to a kid from the Texas Panhandle who grew up singing hymns about Jesus’ blood. “Oh, there’s pow’r, pow’r, wonder-working pow’r in the blood (in the blood) of the lamb (of the lamb).” I could name others, but you get the point. To many contemporary ears, singing about blood seems gross.
Nevertheless, this time capsule of a passage mines those words and concepts to offer principles for Christian living that challenge us today. Like a time capsule, they meant something then; they mean something now. But before we even start on this passage, we have to back up. That’s because the first word is “therefore.” You know, any time a Scripture starts with “therefore,” “but” or “also,” you really have to back up to get the context.
So, the three preceding verses are important, Ephesians 2:8-10 — 8 For by grace you have been saved through faith; and this is not your own doing, it is the gift of God— 9 not because of works, lest anyone should boast. 10 For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.”
Here, the Apostle Paul is telling all Christians salvation comes by grace through faith. This first came as a shock to the Jews, who for centuries believed they had to earn salvation by keeping a system of laws. But it also came as quite a shock to the Gentiles—the non-Jews—whose backgrounds varied but invariably demanded sacrifice to angry deities.
So, in the passage before our text, we learn the bedrock of Christianity: We can’t earn salvation or a path to a relationship with God. It’s all grace—free gift. And the key to receiving that grace is faith—the often-counter-intuitive willingness just to accept what God intends for us.
This has been called “cosmic transformation.” It’s the idea that, in Jesus, God changed everything. God rebooted the entire equation of salvation, taking the pressure off humans and placing the burden on God’s own Self.
After “therefore,” Paul turns from “cosmic transformation” to “relational transformation.” He points to humanity’s part in the process. And this is where the passage resembles a time capsule, because just as it spoke to the reality of First Century Gentile Christians, it speaks to the reality of 21st Century American Christians.
So, let’s break this down into three parts. We’ll focus on the back end of the time capsule—what it means for us today.
Let’s start with A Call to Humility (2:11-13)
In verses 11 through 13, Paul references uncircumcision, circumcision and Jesus’ blood, which we previously discussed. I think he mentions “the uncircumcision” first, because that’s his audience. He’s reminding Gentiles—non-Jews—they once were far from God.
To begin with, they weren’t even on the known path to God, “the commonwealth of Israel.” As far as anyone at the time thought, they had no real opportunity to know, much less be loved and rescued by, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. They had “no hope” and were “without God.”
But Christ Jesus clearly and flagrantly opened that door and lighted that path to God. Even the passive voice of the verbs emphasizes they themselves didn’t have anything to do with it: “you … have been brought near in the blood of Christ.” You didn’t do it; Someone else did.
Whatever their background, Christians had—have—no choice but to be humble, Paul says, because this saving relationship with God through Jesus came to them. Special delivery. Not only did they not earn it, but they also never even thought to request it.
So, how can we see ourselves in this call to humility?
First, while the ancestry of some in this room today may extend to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, most of us inherited all our genes from Gentiles. Before Jesus, we were outside the commonwealth of Israel with “no hope.” We’re among the primary audience of Paul’s letter.
Second, as Paul stated in the verses that preceded this passage, none of us, whatever our genealogy, conviction, passion, education, vocation, avocation, profession, intention or aspiration has earned or ever can earn our salvation. It’s all due to God’s grace—our unmerited, unearned favor.
Whoever we are, we hold that in common. Grace, not merit, is true for every “cradle roll Christian,” literally born into the church. It’s also true for every Christian who had an encounter later in life that brought them into an intimate relationship with God’s Spirit. And it’s even true if you claim “none of the above.” You may be here with a friend or relative, or if you were enticed here by this church’s reputation for loving kindness. You don’t have to be “good enough” to be friends with God. All you have to do is accept God’s unqualified offer.
So, we’re all in the same situation. None of us is exceptional. None of us is God’s exclusive favorite, but all of us are God’s favorites.
And that is true beyond this room. Some people still seem to think they have a special relationship with God because they’re American. Or, more precisely, because they think they’re a special kind of American. We call this attitude Christian Nationalism and, most typically, white Christian Nationalism. It’s the idea that to be a good American, you have to be a conservative Christian and to be a good Christian, you have to be an American. And Brownie points for being white. This passage’s blows that to smithereens. Everyone would be far from God except for God’s grace. Humility is a primary Christian virtue.
From A Call to Humility, let’s move to A Call to Acceptance 2:14-18
In the next five verses, we turn toward a call to acceptance. Here’s a reminder of several things Paul tells us:
- Jesus is “our peace.”
- Jesus has made Jews and Gentiles—and all believers who once were different—unified; he broke down the wall of hostility that divides us.
- By abolishing the notion salvation can be earned, and by making the ultimate sacrifice on the Cross for all people, Jesus reconciles all Christians together.
- Christians of all backgrounds receive the same sermon—peace.
- Through Jesus, all Christians have the same access to the Father through the Spirit (how Trinitarian!).
- We’re in the same boat; we should accept each other.
Although Paul originally called Jewish and Gentile Christians to unity, the truth in this time capsule remains true in a different context: All Christians share in Jesus’ sacrifice, in the reconciliation of the Cross and in the advocacy of the Spirit. So, we should be one in Christ.
Ouch! I don’t know about y’all, but I feel like my toes have just been stepped on. I’m certainly not reconciled to all my Christian sisters and brothers. True confession: Most of the time, I don’t really want to be reconciled to many of them.
For example, if you know your recent Baptist history and also paid attention to religion news this summer, did you take some satisfaction in watching the Southern Baptists continue to bash each other over the head? Their annual meeting this year, 2021, resembled 1990, when they split. Except this time, instead of moderates vs. conservatives, it was ultra-conservative fundamentalists vs. ultra-ultra-conservative Calvinist fundamentalists. Have they not learned anything the past 30 years?
For the first time in several years, I followed news reports of their meeting. And I enjoyed it. … But eventually, my grin turned to a frown as I realized not only does their continued fighting grieve God’s heart, but so does my glee over their continued fighting.
We live in a world in which both progressives and conservatives wear others’ offenses as badges of honor. It’s a particular challenge for progressive Christians, because we see ourselves as the maligned good folks. Our impulses toward justice and righteousness and inclusion and freedom for all are motivated by our Christian love. So, it’s especially galling to be accused of being “less-Christian” than others or even “un-Christian” in the first place.
But we can learn from this passage and find a better way. Congressman John Lewis used to say the Civil Rights movement succeeded because its adherents chose a path of sacrificial love. That never meant forsaking their principles or acquiescing to injustice. But it meant believing the Holy Spirit could take faithful Christians’ humility and acceptance of “the other” and inspire people to a better way.
Finally after Humility and Acceptance, we reach A Call to Grace (vv. 19-21)
In the final three verses of this passage, we receive a call to grace. Paul insists Christians no longer are “strangers and sojourners” but “fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God.” Together, we dwell in a “holy temple” in the Lord. We find joy as we dwell together in the Spirit of God as we offer each other the grace we received from God.
Only by God’s grace can we find Christian unity. The odds are against unity. Two thousand years of Christian history testify to turmoil, conflict and schism. Prevailing culture—which influences the church far more than we want to admit—pulls against unity. Yet this passage says unity is possible.
The reality we face reminds me of a story I first heard as a kid. Back then, I heard it told about members of another denomination, although I’ve since heard it told about Baptists. It seems Henrietta died and went to heaven, and St. Peter gave her a tour. She particularly enjoyed walking the streets of gold, sighting churches and listening to the worshipers sing hymns through open windows. She asked about them and learned about the Methodists, the Presbyterians, the Catholics and the like. They walked around a corner lot enclosed by a high, high fence. St. Peter noticed Henrietta’s quizzical look and said, “Oh, we built that fence for the Church of Christ folks. They think they’re the only ones here.”
People of faith can be pretty arrogant, and arrogance divides us.
But I also can testify the power of the Spirit, coupled with compassion, can bridge many chasms.
Many of you know about Fellowship Southwest’s ministry on the U.S.-Mexico border. We have built a network of pastors who began serving immigrants they found almost literally on their doorsteps. Since 2018, we have helped them feed and shelter and protect tens of thousands of refugees fleeing violence, persecution and extreme poverty in their homelands. Forget politicians’ and pundits’ claims that immigrants are violent gang members, criminals, untrustworthy and evil. We know better. We have met multitudes of fine people—many of them Christian brothers and sisters—in refugee shelters. And we have exemplified Christian unity by partnering with folks from all kinds of backgrounds to serve them.
You’re part of that story. In 2019, I got to know Pastor Carlos Navarro, of Iglesia Bautista West Brownsville—West Brownsville Baptist Church. He operates an immigrant respite shelter, which provides showers, fresh clothes, a hot meal, a huge goodie bag and loads of Christian love to asylum seekers in Brownsville before they board buses and travel to live with sponsors.
For bathing, the Brownsville church could only offer plyboard showers with canvas curtains that drained into the alley. Also, the flow of immigrants was wearing out the church building. That winter, all I wanted for Christmas was to raise enough money to help Pastor Carlos build a better shelter. And that Christmas, Royal Lane Baptist Church sent Fellowship Southwest part of your Christmas offering, which helped us complete construction of that building.
Here’s the miracle: Iglesia Bautista West Brownsville affiliates with the Southern Baptists of Texas Convention. Royal Lane Baptist Church, of course, affiliates with Fellowship Southwest and the Alliance of Baptists. Theologically and denominationally, we are poles apart. But we are united in the Spirit and in our shared compassion for people Jesus called “the least of these.” I love pastor Carlos, and I love Royal Lane. I’m glad God uses both churches’ humility, acceptance and grace to work miracles on the border.
And as we go from this place, may we trust God and lean into humility acceptance and grace to work miracles of redemption, justice and mercy in our lives every day.