In the modern materialistic Western world,
it’s easy to ignore the spiritual realities of life. There are just so many
things to get on with and worry about: relationships, health, family, work, leisure,
career, reputation, and so on. With all these concerns, it’s hard to find the time,
let alone the motivation, to consider spiritual things. Of course, this isn’t
true for everyone in the world. There are many who live their lives conscious
of the spiritual realm—but not always in a beneficial way. In fact, there is a
lot of fear and anxiety associated with spiritual practices, as people seek to
access special transcendent powers or to ward off demonic influences to try to
achieve control and peace in their earthly lives. And so, whether we ignore spiritual
realities or are deeply conscious of them, anxiety and fear for the future is
an ever-present threat.



In the final part of his letter to the
Ephesians, the apostle Paul turns to talk directly about spiritual realities. If
you’ve been reading Ephesians up to this point, this topic might feel like an
awkward gear shift. Just before this point, Paul has been talking about very
practical realities of living the Christian life on the ground: how to live as wives, husbands,
children,
fathers, slaves, and
masters. It
might seem odd, then, that Paul suddenly turns to talk about battling spiritual
powers. But when we look more closely at what Paul says here, especially in
light of what he’s been saying in the rest of his letter, we can see that it
makes perfect sense. Paul isn’t saying we should ignore the concerns of
everyday life, nor is he suddenly trying to make us curious about special angelic
powers or fearful of demons. Rather, Paul is talking here about living our
common, ordinary, everyday lives in light of the spiritual reality that is
behind it all—the spiritual reality he has already been talking about earlier
in his letter. Rather than producing fear and anxiety, what Paul says here gives
us a great reason for confidence and joy as we seek to stand in God’s grace:



Finally, be empowered in the Lord and in his mighty strength. Put on the full armour of God, so that you may be able to stand against the devil’s schemes: because our struggle is not against blood and flesh but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the world-rulers of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Therefore, take up the full armour of God, so that you may be able to stand your ground in the evil day, and having accomplished everything, to stand.Ephesians 6:10–13



Do you notice the word “finally”? This spiritual call to arms here is not some new topic. Rather, Paul is here concluding his letter, summing up what he’s said so far, and showing its spiritual significance. He’s reminding his readers of the cosmic dimension of God’s multidimensional wisdom (see Ephesians 3:10). And he’s motivating and inspiring us to live our lives confidently and boldly, knowing our struggles matter to God.



Alexander Mosaic, House of the Faun, Pompeii



God’s power



Living as a Christian can be very hard.

I once learnt a management principle
that’s so simple, and yet so profound, that it’s stuck with me for years. Authority
and responsibility should always go together. Authority doesn’t exist for
its own sake. If you have authority, it’s there so you can carry out certain
obligations. That means you have a responsibility to carry out those
obligations, and so you should be held to account for how well you discharge
your responsibility. Conversely, if you’re given any responsibility, then you
should also be given the authority to carry out that responsibility. Ideally,
authority and responsibility are two equally matched sides of the same coin. When
authority and responsibility aren’t balanced, problems arise. If a person is
given authority without a corresponding responsibility, it’s chaotic for
everyone. It can lead to authoritarian leadership, bullying, and abuse. Conversely,
if a person is given responsibility without a corresponding authority, the
person will often feel frustrated, they won’t be able to achieve their goals, their
motivation will be squashed, they can be blamed for things they can’t control,
and they can end up disillusioned and undermining the whole organisation.







Authority is a reality of life. Many of
us have authority of one form or another. Some kinds of authority are clear. Political
leaders have authority over the people in their constituency. Bosses and
managers have authority over their employees. Teachers have authority over
their students. And many employees—even those who don’t have the title
“manager”—still have quite a lot of authority in certain areas: for example, a
council worker has authority to stop traffic. And none of that authority exists
for its own sake. Any authority we have has a corresponding responsibility.
That’s true for everyone. But for believers in Christ, this principle is
especially significant. That’s because believers in Christ are, fundamentally,
people who are under authority: the authority of the “Lord” Jesus Christ. That
means we have a responsibility, not just to our job, but to Christ himself. This
is the point that Paul is making when he addresses “Masters” in his letter to
the Ephesians:



Masters, act the same way towards your slaves, giving up the use of threats, by recognising that both their and your Master is in heaven and shows no favouritism.Ephesians 6:9



In the original language in which Paul
wrote, the same word kyrios was used to describe both the “Lord” Jesus
Christ and “masters” of slaves. That’s because, despite the differences between
the two, the same basic idea—authority—applies to both. And here in Ephesians
6:9, Paul is deliberately making a point based on this idea of authority. Paul is
here speaking directly to “masters” of slaves, and he is reminding them that
they themselves have a “master”: the “Lord” Jesus Christ. But what Paul says
here isn’t just limited to first-century slave masters. It applies to anyone
who has authority over others. And that means it applies to most of us, in
various ways, depending on what authority we might have.



Act the same way



Paul begins by urging masters to “act the
same way”. The same way as what? Paul is referring back to what he has just
written in the previous verses to first-century slaves (see my post on Ephesians
6:5–8). He’s saying, quite radically, that believing masters should
adopt the same kind of attitudes and resulting actions that he’s just told
their slaves to adopt!

Freedom is a wonderful ideal. But in
reality, none of us lives a life that is totally free. We all have restrictions
in life. Some of these restrictions arise from good things. The concrete
circumstances of our life—our relationships, our family, our work, our
commitments, our upbringing, our national status, and more, might all be good,
but they also place real constraints on us. For example, most of us must work
to earn a living; few of us can spend all day, every day, doing exactly what we
want. And for some people, economic constraints are particularly pressing and
severe. For some, life is so strongly controlled by economic constraints and
obligations that the ideal of freedom is simply a pipe dream.



In Ephesians 6:5–8, Paul is writing to people
in this kind of situation. He’s talking to “slaves”. But we need to be careful
here. For those of us who live in the modern Western world, the word “slaves”
conjures up particular images. The word “slave” today is commonly associated
with the transatlantic slave trade from the 16th-early 19th
centuries, during which traders captured people from Africa and sold them as
slaves to the Americas and the British Empire. Thankfully, this trade was
legally abolished in the early 19th century, due to the efforts of many—especially Evangelical
Christians in England such as Hannah More and William Wilberforce. Today, slavery
is still universally illegal. Yet tragically, this illegal slavery continues
to be a huge problem in our world. The wickedness of the modern criminal slave
trade, especially the sex-slave trade, is widespread even in modern Western
countries. The International Justice Mission,
a Christian organisation that is a leader in this field, currently works very
hard against slavery, and is worth supporting. The modern criminal slave trade
is supported by the pornography industry (and by the way, please realise that if
you are using pornography, you are actively supporting some of the most vicious
criminal slavery, abuse and human misery that has existed in history. It’s not
true that it doesn’t hurt anybody).







However, the slavery Paul is referring to
here was broader and more varied than either the transatlantic slave trade or
the modern criminal slave trade. “Slaves” in the ancient Roman Empire were very
common, because state-endorsed slavery was a fundamental building block in the Empire’s
economic and social fabric. As a result, “slaves” were everywhere, and they lived
in a wide variety of conditions. Some slaves were treated terribly; others were
looked after very well and had quite good prospects in life. And slavery was
not necessarily permanent: slaves could be freed or could buy their freedom. But
of course, not everyone got this opportunity. So slavery was a widespread and
varied phenomenon. Still, there was a common factor to all slavery: state-endorsed
restriction of economic and personal freedom. A slave was someone who
was legally tied to the household of a master, and so was not free to live
where and how he or she wanted to live. These “slaves” are the kind of people
Paul is addressing here, when he says:



Slaves, obey your earthly masters with respect and fear, with whole-hearted sincerity, as obeying Christ, not just serving to be seen, as people-pleasers, but as slaves of Christ doing God’s will from within, serving with a good attitude, as rendering service to the Lord and not human beings, recognising that for each one of us, whatever good we have done,

Fathers, do you sometimes wish your
children were born with an instruction manual? Being a dad is such a big
responsibility. A father’s love, emotional presence, approval, and support for
his children—from their early lives, through their teenage years, and beyond—is
a significant factor in helping them to become secure, able to love and give to
others. On the other hand, a lack of love from a father can contribute to various
kinds of anxiety and insecurity in relationships and in life functioning. Fatherhood
matters so much. Yet it’s not an easy task. That’s why the words of the apostle
Paul in Ephesians 6:4 are so helpful for us. Paul here gives instructions to
fathers. It’s not a detailed manual for exactly what to do in every situation.
But what Paul says here is fundamental, and goes a long way to helping us see
how to be a dad:



Fathers, don’t provoke your children, but nurture them in the training and admonition of the Lord.Ephesians 6:4







Why does Paul single out fathers here? After
all, in the previous verses, Paul has been speaking of the need for children to
obey and honour both their father and their mother (Ephesians
6:1–2). And of course, since mothers are intimately involved in raising
children, the instructions here are relevant to mothers too (even more so in
the case of single mums). But here, Paul deliberately chooses to speak to fathers
about their responsibilities. Why is that? It’s because fathers need to hear
this instruction directly. It’s too easy for us to abdicate our responsibility to
care for and nurture our children, and to leave it up to mum. But Paul is
saying here that fathers need to realise we have a special responsibility
towards our children; we must not just palm it off, but we must take it
seriously.



There are several significant things we
can learn from this verse about our responsibility as fathers.



Don’t provoke your children



Paul begins with a negative instruction:
“don’t provoke your children”. The word “provoke” means to do things
that can give our children a reason to become angry and filled with resentment.
This is a warning that fathers need to hear. Whether we realise it or not, we fathers
have great power over our children. We’re stronger than they are. They rely on
us. They listen to us. We have inherent authority: what we say, goes,
especially when they’re very young. Thankfully, it’s not unlimited power and
authority! But it’s still real. We need to recognise the reality of this power and
authority we have over our children, for two reasons. Firstly, we need to actually
use that power rightly, for the good of our children. Authority isn’t bad in
itself, but it is there for a purpose. Authority must be matched by
responsibility, and used for the good of others. And secondly, if we don’t
recognise that authority goes hand in hand with responsibility, it’s easy—far too
easy—to wield that power wrongly and in a way that provokes our children.



How could we fathers “provoke” our
children? We could do it by our attitudes, our words, and our actions.
Provocation can arise from such things as severe discipline and harsh demands. It
can arise from being arbitrary in our instructions, or not following through on
our warnings. It can arise from being unfair, favouring one child over another,
either out of laziness or even intentionally.

Children’s ministry is exceptionally important. I can vouch for that first-hand. I first came to know Christ when I was a child, through the ministry of volunteers who taught the Bible in my school. As I’ve served on various ministry teams, I’ve had the joy of sharing the Bible with children. I’ve also had the privilege of working directly alongside vocational children’s ministers, and had a lot of fun in the process. I’ve seen first-hand how valuable children’s ministry is and how much of a difference it makes, not only to the lives of children themselves (including my own children), but also to the lives of their families (including to my own family as I was growing up), and in fact to the church family as a whole.



To do children’s ministry well, you need great
theological depth. As I teach theological
students at Moore College, one of the
things I often highlight is that children’s ministers need exceptionally good
theological training. Why is that? Well, when you’re teaching adults, it’s
possible to get away with just regurgitating big words and technical stuff. Adults
are polite, and they’ll often at least pretend they know what you’re talking
about. But children won’t let you do that. To teach children, you need to understand
your theology so well that you can boil it all down to a few simple points
that children can process. You also need to understand the wider implications
of that theology so well that you can lovingly and rightly apply it to their individual
lives. Doing that properly takes great theological depth and skill. Now of
course, the
same is true in ministry to adults; and of course, it’s possible in
children’s ministry to simplify things wrongly, and so teach in a way that’s
highly accessible but still wrong. So really, we
all need good theology. But still, children’s ministers—those whose task it
is to take the great truths of the God of the universe and make them accessible
for children—need especially good theological training to do their task well.



In this part of his letter to the
Ephesians, Paul the apostle does children’s ministry. There’s a lot we can
learn from Paul here, both about the gospel, and about the value and
significance of children’s ministry itself:



Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. “Honour your father and mother”, which is the first commandment associated with the promise: “so that it may be well with you and you may have a long life on the earth.”Ephesians 6:1–3



What can we learn from these verses about
the gospel and about children’s ministry?



Children matter to God



To start with, the very fact that Paul addresses children directly teaches us something profound: children matter to God. Paul doesn’t just talk about children to the grown-ups; he talks to children. This was revolutionary in Paul’s day. You might remember the account in Jesus’ life where people brought children to Jesus, and the disciples tried to turn them away (Mark 10:13–16). In the ancient world, children were seen as unimportant, and of little value compared to grown-ups. Children existed for the sake of adults; their value was defined by whether adults wanted them. Tragically, that attitude is returning in many Western countries today, as abortion legislation is debated and passed in various parliaments. Children prior to (and now soon after) birth are slowly but surely losing their protections...

Men, we have a problem. It’s a serious
problem that we can’t ignore. It’s a problem in our world, and also a problem in
our lives. In countless ways, great and small, intentional and unintentional, men
dominate women.



But the problem can’t be isolated to one
particular group of men, or one particular time in history. Recently, for
example, the extent of the problem in the socially “progressive” US
entertainment industry has been raised through the rise of the #metoo movement.
The movement started by shining a spotlight on sexual assault and harassment in
that one industry. But of course, as has become obvious, the problem is not new,
nor is it isolated to American social progressives. It’s not just a problem for
progressives: it’s a problem for conservatives, and it’s a problem for everyone
in between, in every nation on the earth. It’s a problem for atheists and it’s
a problem for religious types. And if you think you’re somehow immune from it—because
you’ve got the right kind of ideology or the right kind of belief or belong to
the right group of people—you’re deluded. It’s a problem for all of us.



The Bible doesn’t shy away from this
problem. In fact, the existence of this problem is one of the fundamental teachings
of the Bible. According to the Bible, we live in a sinful and broken world, in
rebellion against God and subject to his judgment. The sin of this
world affects all of us, including God’s people, and one significant way it
affects us is in our relationships as men and women. As far back as Genesis 3, in
the context of God’s judgment and curse on humanity, we read about the problem
of men “ruling” women (Genesis 3:16). This is an old and universal problem, it
continues down through history, and it affects us today as much as it always
has.



What should we do about this problem? After
all, just because we’ve identified a problem doesn’t mean we automatically know
how to solve the problem, does it? Various solutions have been tried. Some believe
the solution will happen through reforming structures and institutions. They
say that if we can just ensure that the structures of society—business,
politics, and indeed marriage itself—are revolutionised and then enforced so
that men never have any more authority than women in any area, then we have the
answer: men and women will get on, and men won’t dominate. So we try it. Sometimes
it helps. But so often, tragically, it doesn’t work in the long term. In our
world, men keep dominating women, no matter what rules we make or how
desperately we tweak our ideology. So the collective anxiety levels increase,
and we just tell each other we have to try harder. And on it goes.



Of course, it’s right to ask questions and pay attention to the social structures we live in. It’s right to ask if our institutions are somehow contributing to the problem. And there are serious cases of criminal abuse that need to be dealt with by the justice system. But we’re naïve if we think that revolutionising the structures is the ultimate solution that will fix all of us. The problem is, in fact, far more deeply rooted than that. Like all sin, the root of the problem is deep in our hearts (see Ephesians 2:1–2). And so we need something far more radical to fix it. The solution that Paul spells out in depth in his letter to the Ephesians all stems from the loving, sacrificial death of Jesus Christ on the cross for our sin.

The Bible, marriage, love, and
submission: most people have an opinion about it, but for many different
reasons. Some see the idea of love and submission as key to happiness and
fulfilment in marriage. Others regard any thought of gender-based differences
in marriage—let alone the idea of submission—as unjust, oppressive, and
harmful. Still others today are even questioning the basic assumptions behind
the idea of “husband” and “wife”: why not marriage between two people of the
same gender, or three people, and why even assume gender is fixed? Plenty of
others just want to know the details of how to live out the Bible’s teaching in
the practical realities of married life. Issues like these—and many besides—can
easily be at the forefront of our minds when we approach a passage such as
Ephesians 5:22–24.



In this short post, I can’t even begin to address all these issues. But I do want to say something here that’s fundamental to all the issues—something that is very often neglected in these discussions, but is vital to remember. This passage in Ephesians must be read in light of what Paul has already said in his letter about the gospel of Jesus Christ—and if it isn’t, it will be completely misunderstood.



Paul’s discussion about marriage in
Ephesians 5:22–33 doesn’t appear as a self-contained piece of marriage advice. As
he writes about marriage here, Paul is clearly, deliberately, and carefully referring
back to things he has already said in previous parts of his letter. His key
point is that the way a wife relates to her husband, and vice-versa, must be
informed and transformed by the gospel of Jesus Christ, the gospel he has carefully
laid out and applied in great detail in his letter so far. So when he talks
about marriage here, Paul is not simply repeating or conceding or endorsing
social norms from the first century. Nor, on the other hand, is Paul acting as some
kind of modern-day hero of egalitarian identity politics, overturning social
norms for the sake of social justice. Rather, we need to read what Paul is
saying here in light of what Paul has said about the gospel. Paul here is consistently,
deeply, and profoundly applying the extraordinary gospel of Jesus Christ to the
real, human, on-the-ground circumstances of marriage between a man and a woman.
I’ll say it again: we mustsee the profound gospel heart of this passage.
If we don’t, we’ll end up with all sorts of misunderstandings—with serious
consequences for our relationships and our lives.



In Ephesians 5:22–33, Paul addresses
wives first, then husbands. In this post, we will look at what he says to wives
(verses 22–24), though this is relevant to husbands as well. In the next post,
we will look at what he says to husbands (verses 25–33).




Wives, submit to your own husbands as to the Lord, because a husband is head of his wife as also Christ is head of the church: he himself is saviour of the body. But as the church submits to Christ, in this way also wives are to submit to their husbands, in everything.
Ephesians 5:22–24







Submission: What’s Paul actually talking about?



Part of the problem we have when we approach
this passage is that we bring a lot of cultural baggage to it. Because of the
world we live in, when we hear this word “submit”, we can easily assume Paul is
talking in terms we’re familiar with, like corporate authority structures. That’s
because in our world, we really care about power, authority, decision making, who
has control, who gives the orders, and who calls the shots.

Let’s face it: I’m a 21st century
Westerner. More than that, I’m an Australian. So naturally, I have a deeply ingrained,
culturally conditioned reaction against authority and ordered relationships. This
anti-authoritarian reflex is part of my cultural heritage. The generation before
mine was a generation of social revolutionaries, overturning all kinds of social
norms in the name of justice, liberty, and equality. Going back a few centuries,
my cultural ancestors were convicts—underdogs chained up and transported here
by the British Empire for all sorts of misdemeanours: political insurrection, stealing
handkerchiefs, etc., etc. This heritage has made a deep impact on me. Instinctively,
I don’t like ordered relationships. I want to sit in the front seat of a taxi next
to the driver, not in the back like Lord Muck as if I’ve got tickets on myself.
I’m uncomfortable with people making something of me just because of my position
or status. I run away screaming when people use titles like “Reverend” and
“Doctor” (well, not literally, but at least this is what I’m doing on the
inside). I feel the Aussie reflex to cut down the “tall poppies”, to make sure
everyone’s on the same level.







Of course, I’m aware that it’s not like
this everywhere in the world. For example, visitors to our theological college from overseas—especially
those from non-Western countries—are often aghast when they hear our students
calling us teachers by our first names, as if students and teachers were
somehow equals. But since I’m an Aussie, this reaction doesn’t bother me too
much. We Aussies revel in our egalitarianism. In fact, in typical Western fashion,
we Aussies tend to be quite sure that our way of doing things—including our
anti-authoritarianism—is the best way to live, and shows that our culture superior
to others…



Now there are often good reasons to question authority and order. Ordered relationships and authority structures can cause major problems in our world. This is because so often in our world, a person’s place in the social order is seen as a measure of that person’s intrinsic worth. If you’re in authority, you’re seen as a more important person. You matter more. On the flipside, if you’re further down the chain of order, you matter less. And so, in our world, order and authority often lead to pride and oppression. Those people further up the chain can easily despise and dominate those further down the chain. This is terribly unjust—and it happens all the time. This is why it seems natural that the best way to fix the problem is through social revolutions: overturning the order, and insisting on putting everyone on the same level, no matter how much blood is spilt in the process.



The gospel of Jesus Christ is, in many
ways, revolutionary. As Paul writes his letter to the Ephesians, he speaks
about a radically new way of life for believers in Christ, which comes from
what Jesus Christ has done for us in his death on the cross and his resurrection
from the dead. Though we
deserve only God’s wrath, God in his love gave Christ for us and made us alive
in him (Ephesians 2:4–5). This is revolutionary. One way it’s revolutionary
is that all believers now have the same status and the same security, no matter
who we are, where we’ve come from, or what we’ve done. God “seated us
together with [Christ] in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 2:6).

Music is part of who we are as human
beings. We all know that music stirs the soul and engages the heart. But music isn’t
just something that happens to us. Music is something we do: human
beings sing! Of course, not all of us are very good at keeping a tune (I’m
certainly not). But most of us still sing—or at least we hum along under our
breath to the tunes we hear others sing. Indeed, human beings often sing together.
This has been true of societies down through the ages. Whether it’s folk tunes,
anthems, or chants at sporting events, singing has brought people together, stirred
hearts and souls, and enabled people to express together what they love and
long for.



In some ways, modern technology has changed how we in our Western society engage with music. We now have instant access to a huge range of music from around the world, recorded for our convenience so we can play it back at leisure and listen in private. As a result, we can each pick and choose and consume our music according to our individual tastes. This means that the phenomenon of singing together—using our voices to sing one song with others near to us—is becoming less common in our modern world. On one bus or on one street corner, you’re likely to find fifty people with ear pods listening to fifty different songs, rather than a group of people all singing the same song.



This means that the age-old Christian
practice of singing together is becoming a little strange and antiquated in our
world. I play the piano, and I’ve been involved in church music for many years,
serving as a musician and music leader in various contexts. One thing I’ve
noticed is that when visitors who aren’t familiar with church come and join us,
they can find the whole idea of people singing together a little bit foreign
and uncomfortable. Yet despite its strangeness, we still do it. Why do we
Christians resist the modern trend towards individualising music and keep
singing together when we meet? Why does singing together matter to us so much?







In these verses from Ephesians, the apostle
Paul says some important things about Christian singing. What Paul says here helps
us to see why Christians sing together. It also helps us to understand a
little more about how we should sing together.



Speak to one another with psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making music with your heart to the Lord, constantly giving thanks for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, to our God and Father.Ephesians 5:19–20



Spirit-fulfilled singing



First let’s look at why Christians
sing. Christian singing is a result of what Paul has
just spoken about in the previous verse: “be fulfilled by the Spirit” (Ephesians
5:18).  In Ephesians, being
“fulfilled by the Spirit” is about becoming who we were made to be, for the
sake of God and his purposes. God has a great plan for his world “to sum up all
things in Christ” (Ephesians 1:10). We believers play a key
part in this plan as Christ’s “body”, the church. Although the final
fulfilment of God’s plan won’t happen until the last day when Christ returns, nevertheless,
even now, through his Holy Spirit, God is bringing us
towards fulfilment, enabling us to live for him and his purposes (Ephesians
3:18–19). As this happens,

Alcohol abuse is a real problem in our
world. According to a recent Australian
Bureau of Statistics National Health Survey, “One in six (16.1%) persons
aged 18 years and over consumed more than two standard drinks per day on
average”, thus exceeding the guidelines for lifetime risks associated with
illness and injury. Furthermore, “just over two in five (42.1%) adults aged 18
years and over” had “consumed more than four standard drinks on one occasion in
the past year,” again exceeding health and safety guidelines. The general
community is well aware that excessive alcohol consumption is linked to all
sorts of serious health problems. And of course, the negative effects of
alcohol abuse go beyond issues of personal health and safety for the individual
consumer. Drunkenness can lead, for example, to violence, neglect and damage of
children, and when combined with driving, injury or death to self and/or others.



(If you’ve been affected either
directly or indirectly by the abuse of alcohol or other mood-altering substances,
help is available. See the resources and links at overcomersoutreach.net).







The problem of alcohol abuse in our society isn’t simple to solve. As countless politicians have discovered, simply creating and enforcing tougher rules often backfires. Prohibition and regulation in extreme measures tend to drive the problem underground, often leading to more crime and further misery for those affected. That’s why, when we approach the question of drunkenness, we need more than just rules and regulations. We need to know: What’s actually wrong with drunkenness? In answering this question, statistics can only take us so far. Yes, it’s true that on average, alcohol abuse tends to lead to negative health and wellbeing consequences. But that argument by itself is not enough of a reason to change our behaviour, deep down. After all, why can’t we just have a bit of fun and see how far we can outrun the health and safety risks? And what about those who struggle with addiction? In the end, we as Christians need a deeper reason to avoid drunkenness.



Christians do have a profound reason to
avoid drunkenness—a reason that goes beyond statistics and simple consequences.
This reason comes out in the apostle Paul’s letter to the Ephesians:



And don’t get drunk with wine, which is debauchery, but be fulfilled by the Spirit.Ephesians 5:18



Don’t get drunk (18a)



If you’ve been reading through Paul’s letter to the Ephesians, you might be slightly surprised by his mention of drunkenness at this point. In the previous verses, Paul hasn’t been listing a series of other vices to avoid. Rather, Paul has been talking about how to live wisely and carefully in light of the time that we live in: “Watch carefully, then, how you walk, not as unwise but as wise people, reclaiming the time, because the days are evil. So don’t be foolish, but grasp what the Lord’s will is” (Ephesians 5:15–17). So why does he go straight on from this talk about wisdom to mention drunkenness? What’s the connection between living wisely and carefully in light of these “evil” days, and avoiding drunkenness?







The key is to see that drunkenness is, in fact, an abandonment of wisdom. According to Ephesians, wisdom involves understanding the shape of the world, and living appropriately.

On 20th August 1860, Robert O’Hara Burke left
Melbourne with 18 others on an expedition to cross Australia from South to
North. The journey was to blaze the trail for a telegraph line to link the burgeoning
new city of Melbourne with the rest of the world. It was an ambitious,
visionary quest. But there was one problem: Burke had zero experience in
exploration.



Not surprisingly, the whole expedition
was plagued with almost farcical tragedies. Their preparations were a joke. For
food, they took dried meat instead of live cattle, which created three extra
wagonloads. On other wagons, they brought such essentials as cedar and oak
dinner tables and chairs, rockets, flags, a Chinese gong, a large bathtub, twelve
sets of dandruff brushes, and (allegedly) four enema kits. When they got
partway to Cooper Creek, they dumped most of the gear and food and left most of
the men with it all. But Burke, along with his second-in-command William John Wills
and two others, soldiered on—with not enough food, and still not much of an idea
about what they were doing. Amazingly, they made it to the Gulf of Carpentaria.
But on the way back, they were plagued by monsoon rains. They had to shoot and
eat their horse. When they arrived back at Cooper Creek, they discovered that
the remaining men had left just hours before. And not long after, by the end of
June 1861, Burke and Wills were both dead.[1]
Still, their monumentally tragic trip has gone down in history as a touchstone
of Aussie bravery and battling against the odds.



Booth (1873). The Return of Burke and Wills to Cooper’s Creek (Public Domain)



Is this how we’re supposed to live our
Christian lives? In other words, is the Christian life all about setting
outrageous and ambitious goals to glorify God, then setting off into the spiritual
wilderness, assuming it’ll all be right in the end, because we have God on our
side and we just need to have faith that he will make our plans all work out
fine in the end? Putting it that way sounds a little crazy, doesn’t it? But sometimes
we can act a little like that is the way to live the Christian life. We can
live our Christian life—walk our Christian walk—with big goals, but without
thinking properly about how we’re going to achieve the goals, what it’s going
to cost, and how we might need to prepare and plan for the long haul. Is this
really what God wants us to do?



Of course, it’s not wrong to have big
goals for our Christian walk. Paul spells out some pretty huge aspirations in
his letter to the Ephesians. He urges
believers to “become imitators of God” (Ephesians 5:1), to “walk in love”,
imitating Christ’s costly sacrifice for others (Ephesians 5:2), and to “walk as children
of light” (Ephesians 5:8), so that Christ shines
through us and transforms the darkness. Paul has big ambitions for the
Christian walk, and it’s right for us to consider how these aspirations should play
out in our own lives. It’s good to have ambitious goals for ourselves. But as
we do, we mustn’t be naïve or unprepared. Because Paul doesn’t just lay out big
ambitions and leave it there. In Ephesians 5:15–17, Paul goes on to tell his
readers:



Watch carefully, then, how you walk, not as unwise but as wise people, reclaiming the time, because the days are evil. So don’t be foolish, but grasp what the Lord’s will is.

How should Christians relate to the world
around us? Should we withdraw, or should we engage? How do we know which action
to do when? It’s not question with a simple answer, is it?



On the one hand, there are plenty of
reasons why we might think we should withdraw from the world. Paul tells
believers in his letter to the Ephesians: “you were dead
because of your offenses and sins, in which you once walked, according to the
age of this world” (Ephesians 2:1–2), and so “we were, by nature,
children of wrath”, deserving of God’s righteous judgment
(2:3).
But Christians are people who have been rescued from the evils of the world. God
has “raised us together
with Christ, and seated us together with him in the heavenly places
in Christ Jesus” (2:6–7). So we should “no longer walk as
the gentiles walk: in the futility of their minds” (4:17). Instead, we should “take off the old
humanity, according to the former way of life, which is being corrupted
according to deceitful desires” (4:22), and instead “put on the new humanity, which has been created according to God in
the righteousness and devotion that come from the truth” (4:24). Our behaviour must be completely different
from the world’s—no sexual immorality, impurity, or greed. “It’s because of
these things that the wrath of God is coming on the children of disobedience.
So don’t become partners with them” (5:6–7). All of these things that Paul says in Ephesians
seem to give us plenty of reasons to withdraw from the world and have nothing
to do with it.







But on the other
hand, there are also plenty of reasons for us to engage with the world. Christians
are people who are caught up in God’s great plan “to sum up all things in Christ: things in heaven and things on
earth, in him” (1:10). God is achieving this plan through the preaching of the gospel, the “word of truth”, which brings
salvation to people. Christians are people who have come to believe and trust in Christ the
missionary, the one who “came
and preached the gospel: peace to you who were far away, and peace to those who
were close” (2:17). Paul the apostle is caught up in this mission; he is a “minister of the
gospel” whose task is “to preach to the gentiles the gospel”
(3:7–8).
And God’s people, too, are caught up in this “work of ministry” and mission; we should be “speaking the truth
in love” and so seeing the body of Christ grow (4:14–15). So gospel ministry and mission is central to
our identity as Christians. And all of these things give us plenty of reasons
to engage with the world—so that people might hear the gospel, come to Christ,
and be saved.







So what should we do? Should we withdraw,

We live in a world full of tests, examinations,
and measurements. The testing starts from an early age. Even before babies are
born, we use ultrasounds and other tests to check that everything is OK with
the little human being in there, who is about to emerge into the world. As soon
as the baby is born, there are more examinations: tests for hearing, for sight,
for reflexes, and more. We test kids at preschool and at school. Then we measure
their ability when they’re leaving school. We interview and measure and test people
before they’re allowed to start a job. Then we review them against key performance
indicators to make sure they’re doing their jobs properly. We measure our
weight. Doctors keep taking blood from us to check the levels are right. In
business and government and health and education, our decisions about what to
do and how to spend the money are (in theory, at least) all based on
measurements. Decisions must be “evidence based”. So we have to measure
everything: test it, scrutinise and prove it with numbers before it’s allowed
to go ahead. In so many ways, this testing and measuring brings great benefits.
The lives of at least two of my children have been saved through medical tests
at an early age, which led to effective medical intervention. So often, measuring
and testing and examining allows us to make wise decisions and so to live healthier,
fuller, more flourishing lives.







But a strange thing happens when we start to measure and test everything in life: we end up valuing only what we measure—and not valuing what we don’t measure. This is true in political decisions. In theory, we want our nation to be run through good economic decisions, based on evidence and clear data, leading to the best possible outcomes for flourishing and happiness for each individual in our society. But the problem is: whose flourishing and happiness do we measure? Who counts as an individual in our society? And so, whom do we count when we make our measurements? Very often, we decide we will only count the prosperity and wellbeing of legal citizens of our nation. That seems to make sense at first glance—and of course, it’s reasonably straightforward to measure. But when we do that, we automatically exclude others who aren’t legal citizens. For example, we exclude asylum seekers, or the not-yet-born. They’re harder to count. So we don’t count them. Which actually means that to us, they don’t count. And so we make our decisions as a nation based on maximising health and flourishing, but only for the people who count. What has happened? Instead of working out what (and whom) we value first, and then measuring it, we just go ahead and make our measurements first, and then end up simply valuing what (and whom) we measure.







In fact, this can happen in the Christian
life, too. In our daily Christian walk, we can easily place a high value on
those things that are easy to measure and see. How often do I read my Bible?
How many minutes do I spend praying each day? How regular in attendance am I at
church? How many Christian conferences did I attend this year? How many
connections do I have on my social media platform of choice? How do I appear to
others around me? Do people look up to me and praise me? These things are easy
to test, and so we value them. We can also do it in our Christian ministry and
service of others. We want to measure our effectiveness in ministry—but how do
we measure it? We find things we can easily measure: How many people are
in my church/group? How many different ministries am I involved in? How many
people follow my ministry online? How busy am I?

Not long ago, I walked into a small café
in Sydney. While I was ordering, I saw a newspaper sitting at the counter. There
was one prominent lead story on the front page. The story was about brothels in
Sydney: there was a government investigation going on into them. The newspaper
headline, in gigantic letters, very clearly indicated its moral outrage at
brothels, for “exploiting women”. But as soon as I’d read that headline, my
eyes moved upwards to a prominent picture at the top of the front page. It was
a picture of a woman in a bikini, obviously designed to be provocative,
advertising another story on page 10 of the newspaper. Do you see the irony? There
was a picture of a woman’s body being used to sell newspapers, so that people
could pay money to buy the newspaper and share in the newspaper’s moral outrage
against exploiting women’s bodies for money!



This is the world we live in. It’s a
world where money and sex, sex and money, rule the day. And yet, at the very
same time, it’s a world full of righteous moral outrage against injustice and
exploitation. Crazily, so often the ones doing the exploiting are the loudest
in their denunciations. The truth or logic or consistency of what’s being said
doesn’t matter. Rather, the person who shouts the loudest wins in the moral
outrage game, and that’s that. Of course, it’s much worse than hypocritical newspaper
headlines, isn’t it? Behind the headlines and the outrage and the denunciations
is real pain, hurt, and evil; often hidden, yet always there.



How do we as Christians react to this
evil? There are various options. For example, we can join in on the outrage and
denounce everybody around us. Or we can react in fear and withdraw from the
world, hiding from the horribleness of it. Or we can react by just trying to be
like everyone else: by assimilating and adapting so far that we are no
different from the world. What does the Bible have to say about our life in
this world? In
a previous post, I wrote about what Paul says in Ephesians 5:7: “Do not
become partners with them”. We shouldn’t become partners with a world under
God’s judgment. That is, we shouldn’t just become like the world in this regard.
That’s vital to hear. But if we just stop there, we might think that the
Christian attitude to the world is all about avoidance and withdrawal. After
all, isn’t that the safest way to avoid partnership with the world? We might
think that way. Yet that’s not where God’s word takes us. Rather, it takes us
to a very different place. The answer to the question about how to react to the
evil in the world isn’t about hiding. Instead, it has to do with a powerful
image: the image of light. Paul says:



For once you were darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light: the fruit of light is found in all that is good and right and true.Ephesians 5:8–9



Once darkness, now light



Paul says, “once you were darkness, but now you are light in the Lord.” Our world is so often a dark place. It’s full of evil, and often doesn’t even know it or care to admit it. People want to be optimistic about human nature. Yet that optimism so often turns out to be a vain hope, flying in the face of the facts. When we honestly face the facts about our world and even our own lives, we can see that there’s so much darkness. There is envy, jealousy, hatred, exploitation, greed, broken relationships, lust, drunkenness, pain, abuse, and worse. That is darkness. But in Jesus Christ, says Paul, we are light. How are we light?

What do you want to become? When you
close your eyes and picture yourself in 5 years, 10 years, 20 years, what will
you have become? What do you hope for, pray for, and plan for?



I once wanted to become a famous
architect. I designed a three-storey dream house. I built a superb 3D model of
it. It had an inbuilt swimming pool. You could jump into the pool from the top-level
bedrooms. The pool had windows in the side so you could look into the water from
the middle-level dining room and watch people swimming while you ate. It was magnificent.
It was so magnificent that one of my school teachers must have taken it home
after they marked it, because I couldn’t find it anywhere in the classroom at
the end of term. Either that, or they threw it out because they didn’t think it
was as magnificent as I did. If I’m honest, the second option is more likely.
In any case, my dreams were dashed. The cardboard model never became a reality,
and neither did my plan to be a famous architect. But that’s OK; I was still a
kid then, so I had plenty of other dreams to work towards.







What
do you want to become? Our dreams drive our daily actions, don’t they? If you
know what you want to become and have some idea about how you might get there,
you’re motivated to work towards it, day by day. It’s also highly motivating
when you know what you don’t want to become. You might know people who
have made bad choices in life, or who have attitudes or habits or lifestyles
that turn you off completely. If you look at their lives and have some idea how
and why they ended up where they ended up, it can motivate you to avoid their
mistakes and to live differently, day by day.



In this part of Paul’s letter to the
Ephesians, he’s talking about what believers should and shouldn’t “become”. In the earlier
parts of his letter, Paul has tended to focus more on what God has already
made us. God has adopted us as
his children, forgiven us,
made us holy,
and lifted us from
sin and death and judgment to life and salvation.
We are secure
in Christ, and have a wonderful,
glorious hope to look forward to. That’s what God has done for us. That’s
who we are. But as Ephesians goes
on, Paul concentrates more and more on what we should become. He’s talking
about future growth, and change, and action on our part. We will see that as he
talks about what we should become, there’s a positive aspect and a negative
aspect. At the start of chapter 5, Paul says we should
“become imitators of God” (Ephesians 5:1). That’s the positive aspect—and
it is incredibly positive! Now, in verses 5–7, Paul is focusing on the negative
aspect:



You must understand this: everyone who is sexually immoral, or impure,