Tag: Ephesians

A Life That Honors God

In Colossians 1:9-10, Paul writes, “For this reason we also, from the day we heard about you, have not ceased praying for you and asking God to fill you with the knowledge of his will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so that you may live worthily of the Lord and please him in all respects — bearing fruit in every good deed, growing in the knowledge of God” (NET).

Paul’s prayer reveals a critical connection between knowing God and living for Him. He petitions for the believers in Colossae to be filled with knowledge, wisdom, and understanding—attributes that aren’t just intellectual but deeply spiritual. This knowledge isn’t for personal pride or theoretical debate; it’s meant to result in lives that honor God.

A deeper understanding of God’s will shapes our choices, guiding us to live in ways that reflect His character. When Paul says “live worthily of the Lord”, he envisions a life aligned with God’s desires—a life marked by good deeds, steady growth in faith, and a pursuit of holiness. Knowledge that doesn’t transform our actions is incomplete; true wisdom moves us to love, serve, and glorify God in all we do.

But this transformation isn’t automatic. It requires effort, prayer, and submission. We live in a world that tempts us to pursue knowledge for personal gain or social validation, yet Paul reminds us that God’s wisdom is countercultural. It equips us to bear fruit—not for applause or recognition, but as evidence of His work in us.

Consider how this plays out in daily life. When we encounter difficult situations, spiritual wisdom helps us discern a response that reflects Christ’s love. When tempted to prioritize fleeting goals, understanding God’s will redirects us to eternal purposes. The knowledge Paul prays for isn’t merely academic; it’s practical, life-giving, and glorifying to God.

As we seek to grow in knowledge and wisdom, let us do so with the goal of living lives that honor Him. May our thoughts, words, and actions reflect a deep understanding of His will, and may we bear fruit that pleases Him in every good work.

Precision Speech

Ephesians 4:29 offers us a vital reminder: “You must let no unwholesome word come out of your mouth, but only what is beneficial for the building up of the one in need, that it may give grace to those who hear” (NET). The command here isn’t just about avoiding foul language or gossip but speaks to a broader discipline—intentionality in our speech.

Words have incredible power. Proverbs 18:21 teaches us that “the tongue has the power of life and death.” With our words, we can build up or tear down, give grace or grief, spark joy or sorrow. Paul’s instruction calls us to a higher standard: speaking not what comes easiest or feels satisfying in the moment, but what is thoughtful and beneficial for others.

Consider how often we speak without thinking. An offhand comment, an unfiltered reply, or a casual critique can leave wounds we never intended. Yet, when we choose our words with care—offering encouragement, speaking truth in love, or simply remaining silent when needed—we can profoundly bless those around us.

The challenge of precision speech is compounded in a world of instant communication. Social media, texting, and emails invite rapid, reactionary replies. But what if we approached every word with the intentionality Paul prescribes? Before speaking or typing, we could pause and ask:

  • Does this build someone up?
  • Does it meet a real need?
  • Does it reflect God’s grace?

Precision in speech isn’t about perfection but purpose. It’s about using our words as tools for edification rather than weapons of division. This discipline mirrors the character of Jesus, who always spoke with wisdom, truth, and grace.

Today, let’s embrace the challenge of intentional words. Speak life, encouragement, and hope. Build up, bless, and be silent when necessary. In doing so, our speech will reflect the God who speaks with purpose and love.

Joy in Every CircumstanceBased on Acts 28:16-31

Paul’s time under house arrest in Rome paints a vivid picture of joy in the midst of adversity. Bound to a soldier, living on his own resources, and awaiting a trial that could end in his execution, Paul’s circumstances were far from ideal. Yet, rather than despairing, Paul seized the opportunity to preach the Gospel, teach visitors, and encourage believers through his letters.

Paul’s joy wasn’t dependent on his freedom or comfort. It flowed from his deep understanding of God’s sovereignty. When he first faced imprisonment, Jesus Himself assured Paul that he would testify in Rome (Acts 23:11). Now in Rome, Paul trusted that he was exactly where God wanted him to be.

This kind of joy is rooted in the conviction that God is working through every situation, even the ones that seem like setbacks. Paul’s house arrest allowed him to witness to Roman guards, welcome all who came to him, and write letters that continue to shape the Church today. His chains became tools for the Gospel.

We often struggle to see how our difficult circumstances fit into God’s plan. It’s easy to focus on what we lack or the obstacles in our path. But Paul’s example reminds us that God can use any situation for His purposes. The places where we feel stuck or constrained might be the very places God wants to work through us most powerfully.

What would it look like to trust that God has you where He needs you, right now? To find joy in knowing that even your struggles can serve His purposes? Perhaps it’s a challenging workplace, a difficult relationship, or a season of waiting. Wherever you are, God can use you to do what He has for you, just as He did with Paul.

Paul’s joy wasn’t denial of his hardships—it was a confident assurance that God’s plan was unfolding, even in his imprisonment. That same assurance is available to us. Let’s ask for the grace to see our circumstances through God’s eyes and the courage to serve Him faithfully, wherever we find ourselves.

What is Faith?

Faith is at the heart of salvation, as Paul makes clear in Romans 2–4. Abraham was justified by faith, not by works, so that salvation would be a gift of grace and not something earned (Romans 4:2–3). The picture Paul paints is that of absolute dependence on God, where even the smallest notion of taking credit for our salvation is absurd.

Think about it like this: In the movie Aladdin (1992), there’s a moment where Aladdin is drowning, and Genie, bound by the rules of magic, cannot save him unless Aladdin makes a wish. Aladdin, nearly unconscious, appears to nod his head, which Genie interprets as permission to act. Genie then rescues him. It would be laughable for Aladdin to boast afterward about saving himself. He played no active role in his own rescue; his faint acknowledgment was simply the condition through which the saving power of Genie could be applied.

Faith is like that. It is not a work or a contribution to salvation; it’s the means by which God’s grace is activated in our lives. Ephesians 2:8–9 underscores this: “For by grace you are saved through faith, and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God; it is not from works, so that no one can boast” (NET). Faith doesn’t earn salvation—it’s merely the channel through which grace flows. It’s as though God says, “Will you trust me to save you?” and our faith is the feeble nod that says, “Yes.”

Abraham’s story embodies this beautifully. When God promised him descendants as numerous as the stars, Abraham had no reason to believe based on his circumstances. His body was as good as dead, and Sarah’s womb was barren (Romans 4:19). Yet Abraham’s faith wasn’t about his ability to bring about the promise but about trusting that God would do what He said He would do (Romans 4:20–21). That’s what God counted as righteousness.

Here’s where this becomes a challenge for us. Do we have Abraham-like faith? Are we fully relying on God’s grace, or are we subtly trying to “help” God save us? Maybe we feel the need to perform, to prove ourselves worthy of His love. But true faith lays all of that down. It acknowledges our inability and rests entirely in His ability.

Faith isn’t about earning or even contributing to salvation. It’s about surrendering completely and trusting God to accomplish what we never could. Like Aladdin, who needed rescuing when he could do nothing to save himself, we nod our heads and trust in the One who lifts us from certain death into eternal life.

Rites, Rituals, or Relationship?

The vision given to Peter in Acts 10 was a pivotal moment that fundamentally changed the understanding of righteousness within the early Christian community. Peter’s vision didn’t just signal a shift in dietary laws or the inclusion of Gentiles; it marked a transformative shift in what it means to be right with God. No longer was righteousness about a series of rites and rituals or strict adherence to cleanliness laws. Instead, it became about redemption—a new covenant founded on grace, received through faith, and evidenced by the overflow of good deeds as a response to God’s love.

Peter’s initial reaction in Acts 10, where he recoils from the idea of eating anything “impure,” represents his ingrained adherence to the Law as the means to holiness. But God responds by shifting his perspective: “Do not call anything impure that God has made clean” (Acts 10:15). This response encapsulates the gospel’s transformative power, a shift from “do this to be clean” to “you are clean; go and live it.” The moment Peter understood that no external act of cleanliness or ritual was needed to enter into right standing with God, it opened the door to something remarkable—a new motivation for good works rooted in gratitude rather than obligation.

Under the old covenant, a person’s deeds were often driven by a sense of duty. Rites and rituals maintained a relationship with God, but it was a relationship heavily weighted by the need to maintain purity and fulfill ceremonial obligations. In Christ, however, we’re given a different foundation: the righteousness of Christ. Our standing is secure because Jesus accomplished what we could not; He was the “once for all” sacrifice (Hebrews 10:10). This assurance allows us to perform good works as an act of devotion and gratitude, rather than as a duty imposed by law.

The beauty of this reversal lies in the order: we’re not working our way to holiness, but rather, we’re invited to let holiness work in us and through us. Paul writes about this transformation in Ephesians 2:10, saying, “We are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” In other words, good works are the fruit of our relationship with God, not the root.

Peter’s encounter led him to a new way of seeing both God and people. The call to holiness was no longer an isolated adherence to the rules, but an invitation to reflect God’s love to all people, Jew and Gentile alike. When he declares in Acts 10:34-35, “God does not show favoritism but accepts from every nation the one who fears him and does what is right,” it’s a revelation: holiness has been redefined. Relationship—not ritual—takes precedence, and our lives become expressions of this connection.

Today, it’s easy to slip into a mindset where we still feel that “being right with God” is something we have to maintain by doing enough, serving enough, or sacrificing enough. But Jesus already accomplished the “enough.” Instead, we’re called to let His redemption flow outward, so that our deeds become acts of gratitude. This order reversal isn’t just freeing; it’s empowering. We no longer need to strive to make ourselves right with God but are free to let His righteousness transform us and touch the lives of others.

The gospel has always been about a journey from ritual to relationship, from rule-following to redemption. Through Peter’s vision, we’re reminded that in Christ, our acts of love and service are not attempts to earn God’s favor; they’re joyful responses to a favor already given. As we live out our faith, may we remember that we are free to serve, free to love, and free to walk in holiness—not as a way to reach God but as the beautiful outworking of having already been reached by His grace.