I fancy myself something of a guitarist, and as such I have often found myself turning the radio up when an epic solo hits. All Along the Watchtower by Jimi Hendrix? Turn it up! Free Bird by Lynyrd Skynyrd? Turn it up! Hotel California? Oh yeah. turn it up!
But, you know, as I was listening to Hotel California the other day something struck me. Here are the final lyrics before we get that epic solo that brings the song to its conclusion:
Mirrors on the ceiling, pink champagne on ice, and she said
“We are all just prisoners here of our own device”
And in the master’s chambers they gathered for the feast
They stab it with their steely knives but they just can’t kill the beastLast thing I remember, I was running for the door
I had to find the passage back to the place I was before
“Relax,” said the night man, “We are programmed to receive
You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave”
What if I told you that this is how many Christians—through no fault of Jesus—choose to view and practice their faith. How? I’ll explain that at the end, but for now, let’s put the Hotel California in our pockets and read our passage for this morning.
(Ephesians 2:11-22, NRSVue) 11 So then, remember that at one time you gentiles by birth, called “the uncircumcision” by those who are called “the circumcision”—a circumcision made in the flesh by human hands— 12 remember that you were at that time without Christ, being aliens from the commonwealth of Israel and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world. 13 But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. 14 For he is our peace; in his flesh he has made both into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us, 15 abolishing the law with its commandments and ordinances, that he might create in himself one new humanity in place of the two, thus making peace, 16 and might reconcile both to God in one body through the cross, thus putting to death that hostility through it. 17 So he came and proclaimed peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near, 18 for through him both of us have access in one Spirit to the Father. 19 So then, you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and also members of the household of God, 20 built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone; 21 in him the whole structure is joined together and grows into a holy temple in the Lord, 22 in whom you also are built together spiritually into a dwelling place for God.
Prayer
Father,
We come to You this morning grateful that You don’t leave us far off. Thank You that in Christ You have brought us near—not by our effort, not by our background, not by our track record, but by the blood of Jesus.
And as we open Your Word, we ask for two things at the same time: clarity and humility. Give us eyes to see what You have actually said, not just what we’ve always assumed. Give us ears to hear it even when it confronts us. And give us hearts that don’t flinch when You call us to repentance—especially where we’ve been proud, suspicious, tribal, or quick to label.
Lord, where we’ve built walls that You have torn down, forgive us. Where we’ve treated brothers and sisters like outsiders, soften us. Where we’ve used truth as a weapon instead of a gift, correct us. And where we’ve confused our preferences with Your priorities, re-order us.
Holy Spirit, do what only You can do: put hostility to death in us. Grow real peace in this church—shalom, wholeness, the kind of unity that doesn’t ignore truth but is anchored in Christ. Make us a people who can disagree without devouring one another, and who can love one another so well that the watching world has to wrestle with Jesus.
And Father, as we listen, would You build us—together—into a dwelling place for Your presence. Not scattered stones, but one house. One family. One body.
We ask all of this in the name of Jesus, our peace.
Amen.
Missed it or Got it Twisted
(Ephesians 2:11-12, NRSVue) 11 So then, remember that at one time you gentiles by birth, called “the uncircumcision” by those who are called “the circumcision”—a circumcision made in the flesh by human hands— 12 remember that you were at that time without Christ, being aliens from the commonwealth of Israel and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world.
What I find fascinating here is how Paul just flatly addresses the barriers that have been thrown up to unity in the church. He doesn’t pull any punches, just gets right in there and starts swinging the truth around like a wrecking ball.
The Jews took to calling non-Jews “the uncircumcision”. Not one of us. Outsiders. This is othering language. See, for the first 10 years after the resurrection of Jesus, the Gentiles remain largely unconverted, even by the Apostles. They might have thought that Jesus was for everyone, but they still acted like He was only for the Jews. In Acts 10 God gives Peter a specific vision and tells him not to call “unclean” what God Himself had made clean. Essentially saying that you need to stop dividing the church! You need to stop gatekeeping the faith! You need to stop distancing yourself the very people I am drawing in and have made a way for! Think about that! The Jewish people were so inward focused that even the Apostles who sat under Jesus direct teaching couldn’t bring themselves to go to these outsiders.
But Paul wants to make it clear that the Jews have gotten it all twisted around. See, he points out that their circumcision is made “by human hands”. You know what else is made “by human hands” according to Scripture? Idols. Pagan shrines. And even the Jewish Temple in Jerusalem—but we’ll come back to that in verse 14. Paul is trying to highlight that these works didn’t make them special, these works were signs that they belonged to God’s chosen people. They were special only because God chose them, not because they did all the right things. They got the causal order backward! With our God it’s love first, then works, never the other way around.
But Paul doesn’t just smack down the Jews. He reminds the Gentiles that they were “aliens and strangers”, having no hope and being without God. And what would have made this sting a little harder is the fact that “without God” was commonly how the gentiles described the Jews, since they did not participate in the Roman worship, but Paul leaves no doubt, both groups—while judging the other—were wholly confused about what was really happening.
Are we doing this? Are we looking at some group deciding they aren’t “one of us” and writing them off?
Poor people? Rich people? Muslims? Atheists? We are often tempted to categorize people and declare them ‘in’ or ‘out’. ‘One of us’ or ‘not one of us’. If you find yourself doing that, ask the Lord to grow your heart for those people. They need Jesus too! Instead of thinking of them as “one of us” and “not one of us” try thinking of them as “one of us” and “not yet one of us”.
Remember, we’re not special because of anything constructive we’ve done, only because we’ve stopped resisting the good work of Jesus in our lives. And when we remember that, we are in much better shape to keep the heart of Christ driving us rather than the heart of exclusion and protectionism.
The God Triangle
(Ephesians 2:13, NRSVue) 13 But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ.
This is great because it introduces the God triangle concept. Paul says that those who were once “far off have been brought near”. And that word near in the Greek evokes closeness, community, fellowship, church! basically, how this works is that as we draw nearer to God we are also drawn into closeness, community, fellowship, church with others who are also drawing near to God.
Hence the triangle. Let me explain. God is at the top of the triangle, then you have Person A on the left corner and Person B on the right. Now, A and B can draw near to each other with no regard for God if they choose and simply hope that they have enough in common to sustain that relationship. But what if Person A and Person B don’t like each other at all? A is a poor, rural, Conservative voter and the other is a rich, urban, Liberal voter. They do not desire to be friends because they disagree about most every socio-political topic under the sun. But what if they both come to know Jesus? And what if they both begin to pursue God? They draw closer to God and what inevitably happens? They are drawn nearer to each other.
Do you see what this means? If either of them decides to keep their distance from the other person, they will also—almost certainly unintentionally—keep their distance from God. This person will be distancing themselves from the good work the Lord is doing—from the fruit of the Spirit in the other person’s life. By creating a distance from their brother, they are creating a distance from the Lord Himself. And if we are not careful, we can find ourselves distanced from God—not losing our salvation, but experiencing less of His fullness than we otherwise would have—by othering fellow Christians who don’t fit whatever mold we have decided is correct. Now I’m not talking about people who are denying key tenets of the faith or who are committing outright heresy, but I think the temptation can be strong to draw a hard line around debatable or secondary issues and squabble amongst ourselves while the lost are dying outside the walls of the church!
Let’s continue to develop this thought a little more as we look at next verse.
The Dividing Wall
(Ephesians 2:14, NRSVue) 14 For he is our peace; in his flesh he has made both into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us,
Let’s talk about the dividing wall. In the Jerusalem Temple there were several courts: the Holy of Holies where the High Priest went once a year. Then the Inner Court where only the Levitcal priests could go. Then the outer court of the men, then the women’s court, then outside that was the court of the Gentiles. And there was a sign that said Gentiles who passed any deeper into the temple grounds would be responsible for their own deaths when they were executed!
It’s worth remembering at this point that right now Paul is writing to the Ephesians from jail precisely because he was accused of bringing Gentiles into the inner courts. Now we see the kind of dividing Jesus tore down. We see what kind of hostility Paul is trying to end. This wasn’t playtime, this was quite literally a life or death proposition.
And this is especially interesting because this was never God’s design! Remember back in verse 12 I talked about how things done “by human hands” included circumcision, idols, shrines, and even the temple itself? And while Paul doesn’t use that phrase of the temple here, Jesus and the New Testament do apply “made by human hands” language to the temple in His day. Not because God never commanded worship spaces, but because we have a way of taking God’s good gifts and reshaping them into something they were never meant to be.
You know what’s interesting? The original tabernacle constructed under Moses is never described this way, despite the fact that we see detailed descriptions of its production. And Solomon’s temple is also never described as being produced “by human hands.” So what makes this second temple—constructed by Herod—so… human?
Division.
The original God-commanded Tabernacle and Temple certainly had restricted areas for those commissioned by God to carry out specific duties, but they were never meant to harden into division, separation, and hostility toward outsiders. By Paul’s day, what was meant to steward holiness had become a system of exclusion—separation, tribalism—these things come easily to us. But they are not part of God’s design for the Kingdom.
His design recognizes that there are outsiders, but His heart is to bring them all in. And if we are aiming to fashion ourselves after God’s heart, then we should have the same goal.
Why do we divide ourselves up? Let’s keep reading and see what we can find out.
The Superiority Complex
(Ephesians 2:15, NRSVue) 15 abolishing the law with its commandments and ordinances, that he might create in himself one new humanity in place of the two, thus making peace,
In the book of Galatians Paul describes the Law as a teacher that restrained the darkest parts of the human condition, and served as a moral guardrail; exposing sin and giving guidance. But the Law could never justify. It could never save. And moreover it would be a curse on anyone who failed to keep it perfectly which—despite the valiant efforts of some—included everybody! The Law served as a way to remind Israel of their sin and to set them apart from the surrounding nations.
Yes, the Law provided a covenant means of Atonement—a fancy word for paying a debt owed to God for our sinful behaviour—but it only worked backward! By the time that sacrifice was complete, another was probably needed. It’s not hard to imagine some guy leaving the temple jealous about some other fella’s apparently “better” sacrifice!
Yet somehow, despite the Law meaning to teach God’s Covenant people how much they needed Him, they managed to make it about themselves! It became a point of pride!
I do the law so well! I am in control! I am special and important!
Quite literally, “I am holier than thou!”
But then Jesus comes along and “abolishes” the law. For the note-takers in the room that word “abolish” means “to remove power or effectiveness”. Because Jesus fulfilled the Law, it is now complete. And by completing the law, Jesus has opened up the covenant promise to anyone who will confess with their mouth and believe in their heart that Jesus is Lord.
That’s what Paul means when he says that Jesus would create “one new humanity in place of the two”.
And let’s not skip over this pivotal line, “thus making peace”. Don’t miss this, church. We often have this false idea that ‘peace’ is merely an absence of war. But this isn’t so!
Imagine a tense battle field in the snowy forests of western Germany as British and German troops stop for a moment to reload. In that bitter silence there is no gunfire, no grenades, not even any shouting. Is this peace? Hardly. This is merely a tense quiet, an eye in the storm that belies the war which will soon erupt again.
No, friends. Real peace comes in unity. In harmony. In fellowship. Let’s explore that a little more in the next verse.
The Vertical and the Horizontal
(Ephesians 2:16, NRSVue) 16 and might reconcile both to God in one body through the cross, thus putting to death that hostility through it.
Paul is outlining a clear progression here. In verse 14, hostility is named and dismantled. In verse 15, the Law—specifically as a dividing system—is rendered powerless, and out of that Christ creates one new humanity. And now in verse 16, Paul tells us why: reconciliation.
That word reconciliation sounds big and theological, but it’s actually pretty simple. It just means to repair, or to bring back together. Growing up, my mom had a little framed quote on the wall that said, “Reconciliation is a friendship word.” And that’s actually not a bad way to think about it.
Here’s how the chain works. God removes the source of hostility by nullifying the Law as a boundary marker. That allows Jews and Gentiles to stand under the same banner as one new humanity. And that unified humanity is then reconciled to God through the cross.
Notice the direction here. Reconciliation is first vertical—we are reconciled to God. But Paul is very clear that it never stays only vertical. The horizontal comes when we stand at the foot of the same cross. There we also find ourselves standing beside one another. The same cross that restores our relationship with God is the place where our relationships with each other are sustained and reshaped.
And Paul is careful to say how this happens: “through the cross.” Not through shared culture. Not through agreement on every issue. Not through personal effort. Through the cross. The cross doesn’t just forgive individual sins—it puts hostility itself to death. It kills the idea that I stand closer to God than you because of background, knowledge, or performance.
So reconciliation isn’t something we negotiate or achieve. It’s something Christ accomplishes. And once that hostility is dead, it has no rightful place among people who claim to live at the cross.
Paul is laying the groundwork here for what Christian unity actually is—and what it is not. And he’s about to press that even further.
Presented to the King
(Ephesians 2:17-18, NRSVue) 17 So he came and proclaimed peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near, 18 for through him both of us have access in one Spirit to the Father.
“The far” are those who were not from among God’s covenant people, and therefore seemed to have a greater distance to travel when God called them. And “the near” are those who belonged to that covenant community—people who had spent centuries living face-to-face with the shadows that pointed toward Jesus. And yet God calls both groups with the same announcement: peace.
Peace, church! Do you see how significant that is? Not faith, or hope, or love, or even grace—but peace. Because Paul isn’t primarily making a statement about how individuals get saved; he’s making a statement about unity, community, fellowship—about the church. Peace here is shalom. It’s wholeness. Completeness. The end of hostility. The settled reality that reconciliation has already taken place.
This is what should mark the people of God. A posture of peace that flows from faith, rooted in hope, made possible by the love and grace of Jesus. Peace is not something we manufacture—it’s the fruit of the Holy Spirit’s work in our lives when we live in the reality Christ has already secured.
When we get to heaven, there won’t be different lines for Presbyterians, Coptics, and non-denominational folks. We are presented to the Father holy and blameless—not because we chose the right denomination or landed on the correct side of every doctrinal debate, but because of the finished work of Jesus.
Now, please hear me clearly: I am not saying doctrine doesn’t matter. It does. I’m a theology nerd precisely because I believe truth matters. We should pursue Scripture deeply and work hard to understand it as clearly as possible. But none of that changes our standing before God.
Because when verse 18 says we have “access” to the Father, it means far more than simple permission to enter His presence. Circle that word access and write beside it: presentation. This word pictures being ushered into the throne room—being formally presented before the Father—because of Jesus.
Is it because we had the right doctrinal position on justification? No.
Is it because we could articulate sanctification with perfect precision? No.
Is it because we picked the right side of every theological debate? No.
Is it because we trusted Jesus to save us? Yes.
So. In essentials unity, in non-essentials liberty, in all things charity.
Citizens, Saints, Members
(Ephesians 2:19, NRSVue) 19 So then, you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and also members of the household of God,
“So then”, Paul begins his summary and conclusion. So then, you are no longer strangers and aliens—the same words he used back in verse 12. He now says the Gentiles are fellow citizens with the saints and also member of the household of God.
Citizens. Saints. Members.
Citizens! That means we belong to a Kingdom. Citizenship isn’t about how you feel—it’s about who you answer to and who you represent. Citizens share allegiance, values, and vision. Christianity is not a private hobby or a solo spiritual journey. We are not free agents—we are Kingdom people. Our primary passport isn’t from Ottawa; it’s issued by Heaven. And that should change everything! Citizens live differently because they represent something greater than themselves. We live under the authority—and for the glory—of the King.
Saints! Not because we’re perfect, but because we’re set apart. Holy. Holy doesn’t mean flawless—it means claimed. You don’t become a saint by acting right; you’re made right because God says, “That one’s Mine.” Your past doesn’t define you. Your failures don’t name you. God does. And when God sets something apart, He treats it as precious. Saints aren’t people who never fall—they’re people who belong to God even when they do.
And then Paul takes it all the way home: we are members of God’s household. Not visitors. Not guests. Family. This is about belonging, access, and permanence. In God’s house, you’re known. You’re expected. You don’t knock—you come in. God isn’t just your King; He’s your Father. And the church isn’t a place you attend—it’s a family you’re re-born into. Families don’t require uniformity; they require love. We stay at the table because this house belongs to God—and He doesn’t kick out His kids.
And Paul wants us to see this clearly: we are citizens, saints, and members personally, but never privately. All of this is true of us as individuals—and only makes sense within the reality of God’s one, collective church, which is exactly where Paul takes us next in verse 20-22.
Foundational Assumptions
(Ephesians 2:20, NRSVue) 20 built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone;
Okay—if you’ll indulge a bit of theological nerdery, we need to take a very quick trip to Tangent Town.
In verse 20 Paul uses the phrase “the foundation of the apostles and prophets.” The majority view is that Jesus is the cornerstone of that foundation, but that the apostles and prophets also somehow make up part of the foundation on which the church is built.
For a number of reasons, I find that reading difficult.
For one, Paul himself says in 1 Corinthians 3:11 that no one can lay a foundation other than Jesus Christ. So for Paul to now say the foundation is Christ plus others would be, at the very least, surprising.
Second, Paul never tells us which apostles or prophets he has in mind. Are we talking about the Twelve? Paul himself? Or lowercase-a apostles like Junia, Andronicus, or Barnabas? And when it comes to prophets, even fewer are named—and fewer still have their words preserved for us. If their words are foundational in the same way Christ is foundational, that raises all kinds of questions Scripture never answers.
Now, people who hold that view are absolutely still my brothers and sisters in Christ. This is not a salvation issue.
But here’s where I land.
The key word in this phrase is “of.” And that word can mean “the foundation that consists of the apostles and prophets,” or it can mean “the foundation associated with them”—the foundation on which they built.
I believe the second reading makes better sense. Paul is not saying the apostles and prophets are the foundation. He’s saying they built on the foundation—which is Jesus Christ Himself.
I could talk about this for forty minutes—and I have. If you’re interested, come talk to me afterward and I’d be happy to point you to that sermon.
But for today, we’ll simply say this: the church is built on one foundation—Jesus Christ. Full stop.
The Living Temple
(Ephesians 2:21–22, NRSVue) 21 in whom the whole structure is joined together and grows into a holy temple in the Lord; 22 in whom you also are built together spiritually into a dwelling place for God.
Paul now shifts metaphors, but not ideas. We’ve gone from citizens, to family, and now to architecture. And he says that the whole structure—not parts of it, not individual wings or annexes—the whole thing is being joined together and is growing into a holy temple in the Lord.
That word “joined together” is important. This isn’t random construction. This isn’t a pile of spiritual bricks stacked nearby each other. This is intentional, fitted, aligned work. Every piece connected to every other piece. Which tells us something right away: isolation is not part of God’s design. Lone-ranger Christianity doesn’t fit this picture. You don’t get a temple made of scattered stones.
And notice this: the structure is growing. This isn’t a finished building that we just admire from the outside. It’s alive. It’s active. God is still at work. Still shaping. Still aligning. Still refining. Still adding new bricks. And all of it is moving toward one purpose—to become a dwelling place for God.
Now this would have been a stunning claim to Paul’s original audience. For centuries, God’s presence was localized in a physical temple—behind walls, curtains, courts, and boundaries. But now Paul says God doesn’t live there anymore. He lives here. In His people. Among His people.
And then Paul gets very personal in verse 22: “you also are being built together.” Not just “the church out there.” You. Plural. Together. This isn’t about your individual body as a mini-temple in isolation—this is about our lives being woven together into one dwelling place for God’s Spirit.
So yes, our bodies matter. Our lives matter. But they matter most as part of something bigger. God doesn’t just dwell in me. He dwells among us. Which means how we treat one another, how we speak about one another, and how we divide from one another isn’t secondary—it’s structural.
Paul is painting a picture of a single, unified temple where God is at home. And the question hanging in the air now is simple, but uncomfortable:
If God is building one church… why do we seem so set on siloing ourselves away from fellow believers?
The Hotel California Christian
Which brings us back to the Hotel California we put in our pockets at the beginning.
I said earlier that many Christians—through no fault of Jesus—end up practicing a Hotel California version of their faith. And now we’re finally in a place to see what that means.
Two lines from the song stand out:
“We are all just prisoners here of our own device.”
“You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.”
I’ve heard pastors throw around words like “unbiblical” with reckless abandon. I’ve talked to people who said, “My old church made it feel like if you left that church, you weren’t really a Christian anymore.”
Our first reaction is usually to gasp and shake our heads. Bad pastors. Bad churches. Bad Christians.
But here’s the uncomfortable truth, church:
I think we actually like this.
We like locking the doors from the inside.
We like being “prisoners of our own device.”
We like believing that the people who stayed made the right choice—and the people who left made the wrong one.
We are programmed to receive.
And so we build silos.
We build theological ghettos.
We build walls where Christ tore them down.
I’ve worshiped in a lot of different traditions, and I can tell you—we’re really not that different. But Baptists love Baptists. Pentecostals really love Pentecostals. Calvary Chapel loves them some Calvary Chapel. And half the time we don’t even know the people we’re suspicious of—we just know the label.
Recently, Kirk Cameron voiced openness to annihilationism—the view that the wicked are ultimately destroyed rather than eternally tormented. And almost immediately, the internet exploded. Pastors. Thinkers. “Theo Bros.” Response videos everywhere.
Words like:
- Heresy
- Deadly danger
- Satanic deception
Now, I’m not here to debate hell today. But here’s what matters: both annihilationism and eternal conscious torment were held by faithful, orthodox Christians in the early church. Neither view shows up until the late second or early third century. And both are associated with respected church fathers.
Which means this:
There is a watching world seeing Christians accuse other Christians of not even being Christians over secondary issues—and I cannot imagine anyone looking at that and thinking, “So that’s the love Jesus was talking about.”
Church, there will be secondary and tertiary issues we disagree on as we pursue truth—and we should pursue truth. But those disagreements do not create different faiths.
As C.S. Lewis said, they’re more like different rooms off the same hallway.
So instead of locking ourselves into one room and calling it faithfulness, what if we remembered what actually unites us?
Please stand with me. This morning we’re going to read—together—one of the earliest summaries of Christian belief—the Old Roman Creed.
I believe in God the Father almighty;
and in Christ Jesus His only Son, our Lord,
Who was born of the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary,
Who under Pontius Pilate was crucified and buried,
on the third day rose again from the dead,
ascended to heaven,
sits at the right hand of the Father,
whence He will come to judge the living and the dead;
and in the Holy Spirit,
the holy Church,
the remission of sins,
the resurrection of the flesh
the life everlasting.
If you can say this in good conscience, then you are my brother or sister in Christ, regardless of where we might land on other issues.
So let’s stop fighting with our family and start fighting for our neighbours. Amen? Amen.