A Way of Life, Prepared

Ephesians 2:1-10

You were dead through the trespasses and sins in which you once lived, following the course of this world, following the ruler of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work among those who are disobedient. All of us once lived among them in the passions of our flesh, following the desires of flesh and senses, and we were by nature children of wrath, like everyone else. But God, who is rich in mercy, out of the great love with which he loved us even when we were dead through our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved— and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the ages to come he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness towards us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God— not the result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life.

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the fact that last Tuesday was Super Tuesday and… wow, it sure didn’t feel especially super. I kept forgetting that there were actual primaries happening, I guess because it’s just leading to a repeat of four years ago. My friends all seem to feel the same way— a couple full-on forgot to vote, a few wrote “ceasefire” in place of a nominee, or said they were uncommitted to send a message about the horrific genocide continuing in Gaza. I’ve been feeling pretty discouraged about the whole thing. I will say, it was nice to be at Town Meeting, able to take part in democratic discussion civically engaged community, but as far as the paper ballots went—not especially exciting. I find that it’s times like these I really have to rely on my faith and those around me. It’s times like these that I really have to think about what we can do for one another and this community—times when it just doesn’t feel like those in power, or those who want to be in power represent me, or the majority of the people. And I’m sorry to be such a downer! The state of politics just feels so blah right now, for lack of a better word, and while it’s not enough to make me despair, it’s enough to make me discouraged.

Now, I’ll be honest with you all, I didn’t have much of a background in this letter to the Ephesians—but what I discovered in my research is that it’s one of the many New Testament letters attributed to Paul, but like not written by him; and in fact, it probably wasn’t even written to the people of Ephesus. It was probably directed to some population of gentiles somewhere in the vast area of Asia Minor. And this is probably where that strange-to-us language of “the ruler of the power of the air” comes from. In ancient pantheistic traditions, there was this idea that the space between the earth and the moon, was this liminal space where demons and mischief makers flew around sowing chaos or playing tricks. So this is a very regionally specific way of the writer of Ephesians to refer to the devil.

The various names for Satan or the devil are always so interesting to me—it seems like they all have something different to tells us about what was going on at the time of the scripture we’re reading, and it seems they also can each tell us different things about how we experience these “rulers of the power of the air” today. At Bible study on Monday, Cindy reminded me that a few weeks ago, one of Paul’s (the real Paul) names for the devil was “the god of this world.” I really liked that name—because aren’t there so many distractions of this world that we’re fighting against? So many people right here, of this world, trying to sow division and anger, so many people just trying to make a buck off of our insecurities or our rage.

But what do we do with these rulers of the air? This spirit that is at work among those who are disobedient? That feels like something we have less control over. It feels like there’s some kind of puppet master, doesn’t it? Some evil spirit pulling the strings of those in power.

And that, I think, is what the writer of this passage is saying—when he talks about being “by nature children of wrath,” he’s saying that when we’re in that state, we have no control over our fears and our desires; no control over our rage or our anxiety, we just go with our base instincts, our full id, right? And this is what this Ephesians version of the devil is going for, I think. It’s trying to make us slaves to our baser instincts, creatures with no regard for one another, animals who care about nothing but their own survival.

And when we’re out of control, when it’s every person for themselves, we can be easily taken advantage of. We can be influenced by those who appeal to those instincts—there’s a reason the mainstream news media is so sensationalistic these days, right? You have news anchors and journalists, for example, exaggerating or making up the violence that comes from asylum-seekers trying to come to the US for a better life— our own president used the word “illegals” to describe human beings in his state of the union; this is the sort of thing that appeals to our id, that threatens to turn us into these “children of wrath—” it sends us into self-preservation mode, thinking we have to protect ourselves and those like us from those different than us.

And it’s not just politics— as new mom, I’m constantly seeing this panic headlines—that even the smallest amount of screen time will destroy your kid’s brain; or that a little bit of stress when you’re pregnant will change your child’s microbiome; or white noise actually can cause developmental delays. And more often than not, these articles are based on small or flawed studies, and when you actually look at the data, or even simply read the article, it’s rarely as grim or as certain as the headline makes it seem. But again, as a new mom, when I see those headlines, I often have a moment of “oh my god, I’ve ruined my daughter,” and it can send me into a spiral, it can consume me for an amount of time—instead of spending the next hour doing something productive, I might find myself obsessively googling and scouring the internet for more information. And there’s just so much of this sensationalized information and headlines going around, and worse and worse media literacy, that we might take something at face value and withdraw from certain activities or parts of life that really bring us meaning, because we’re just so full of this self-preservational, primal fear for ourselves and for those closest to us.

If society continues to devolve in this way, we’re in for a rough future. If we continue to scare one another and fall prey to those trying to pit us against one another, we won’t be able to feel that freeing grace and love that God has granted us.

So how do we avoid becoming powerless to these base instincts? How do we make sure not to panic and turn against our neighbor when we hear dehumanizing language from those in power, or when we read fear-mongering headlines that makes us want to stay in our homes, scared to venture out into the world that seems to be full of nothing but chemicals that will kill you? How do we overcome this rage, these fears, these anxieties?

Last week we had what I found to be a very successful Mission and Outreach Sunday, with speakers from WISE and the Hartland’s Community Nursing Project. Bailey and Katie gave such touching and informative stories about the incredible work they do throughout the region. In my introduction, I touched on our Pub Theology theme of Liberation Theology, and how the father of liberation theology, Gustavo Gutierrez, believed that the church has lost its way, in being too consumed with doctrine and orthodoxy, rather than doing the actions of the good works Jesus calls us to do.

When I was first reading today’s scripture passage and I read the line, “For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God— not the result of works,” my reaction was “oh no, that contradicts just about every sermon I’ve ever preached.” But, luckily, I kept reading: “…so that no one may boast. For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life.”

We have to be doing our good works for the right reasons. If we’re doing these works to boast, or with the idea of the prize of salvation in mind, we’re not doing them for the right reasons. In fact, by doing good works in order to get that prize, it’s just another way of acting as “children of wrath—” we’re doing these works disingenuously, with ulterior motives. We’re acting in our own interest, not in the interest of others.

We don’t do good works so that we can boast or get to heaven, and then because we get that reward, we therefore we have faith. We do good works because of our faith, because our faith tells us to. We do good works because that is what being a Christian is about—about lifting up the underserved, the little guy, the suffering. We do good works to benefit not ourselves, but the world as a whole. We do good works because that’s what we were put on this earth to do— “…we are what [God] had made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works…prepared beforehand to be our way of life.”

And so, it goes beyond just doing things to help others—it’s truly what we were put on this earth to do, it’s our purpose as human beings. This is the type of world God had in mind when things were set in motion—one in which we were all working together, as one, lifting each other up. If we are all working for one another, if we are completely rid of our id, and even our ego, we are then freed from the forces around that try to scare us into withdrawing from the world and from others. If every person did the work that we are put on this earth to do, that is, to always work for others, never with ourselves in mind, we would essentially be in a utopia—and that’s that those ‘rulers of the power of the air’ are working against. That’s why we’re constantly surrounded by so much fear-mongering. It leaves us either full of rage and paranoia, or, it leaves us like I was feeling this past week—discouraged, cynical, almost hopeless, just watching this world repeat the same cycles over and over.

But we’re not doomed. We’re not powerless. Because we have each other. We are gathered here today, in this sacred space, together, but apart, during this contemplative time of Lent, to discern, to ponder, and believe that this world can be better, and to act on those beliefs. We come together because we believe in the work that we were made for, we believe that something better, something different is actually possible, in spite of the fact that we’re being given the same deeply unexciting choices this election cycle as the last; in spite of the fact that those with the biggest platforms are trying to frighten us into fear and submission. But we can’t be frightened. And we can’t despair. Because we have the grace of God that gives us the forgiveness when we falter, that gives us hope when we’re discouraged; and we have the unconditional Love for each other, that gives us the strength to keep working for that earth as it is in heaven. Amen.