Walk the Walk Copy

Yesterday in the sermon, we opened Ephesians 5 - You know the one.

The “woman - submit” chapter.

That one verse that has been quoted, misquoted, weaponized, avoided, joked about, and scheduled around by pastors for generations.

But I was convinced that if we rushed straight to that verse, we'd miss what Paul is doing.

He is not trying to start with household order. He is trying to form a holy people. Paul does not begin with someone else’s responsibility.

He begins with mine.

Before anyone gets to ask what a wife should do, or what a husband should do, or what children or parents or employees or bosses should do, Paul looks at the whole church and says, in effect, “Start here: imitate God.”

That is a much harder place to begin, which may be why we prefer arguing about the later verses. It is always easier to debate someone else’s obedience than to examine our own.

And maybe that is why Ephesians 5 feels so uncomfortable. It does not let us stay theoretical. Paul takes all the beautiful theology from the earlier chapters — grace, reconciliation, unity, new life in Christ — and brings it right into our speech, our habits, our desires, our reactions, and our relationships.

I heard from a church member after the sermon - he said it was like a gut punch. I said, "You're welcome."

God does not allow us to keep faith tucked safely inside Sunday morning. He pulls it into Monday  afternoon...  that fresh reminder of a text message we should not send, the joke we probably should not make, the grudge we keep polishing, and the attitude we keep justifying because “that is just how I am.”

That phrase may be one of the most dangerous ones we use.

“That is just how I am.”

It sounds honest, but sometimes it is really just a spiritual escape hatch. It lets us name a behavior without surrendering it.  (Maybe read that sentence again?)

We can say, “I have a temper,” as though identifying it somehow excuses it.

Or, “I just speak my mind,” when what we really mean is that we have not learned to submit our mouth to Jesus.

Or, “I do not forgive easily,” as though unforgiveness were a personality trait instead of a place where Christ still wants to work.

Sadly, we imitate the bad patterns around us. We imitate outrage, sarcasm, impatience, pride, fear, defensiveness, and sometimes even the way our favorite news channel tells us to be angry.

We are all being discipled by something.

Paul’s question is whether we are being discipled by Christ. That is why the command to “walk in the way of love” matters so much. Love is not just a feeling we admire. It is a path we walk. And paths form people. Walk the same path long enough and it starts to shape your instincts.

If we walk the path of resentment long enough, resentment becomes normal. If we walk the path of self-protection long enough, humility feels like danger. If we walk the path of crude speech, careless words, or constant criticism long enough, we eventually stop noticing the damage it does.

But Paul says there is another way to walk.

That has been the thread running through Ephesians from the beginning. We were dead — but God. We were divided — but Christ made one family. We were immature and easily tossed around — but Christ gave His church what it needs to grow up. And now Paul says, since all of that is true, live like people who are being remade.

Not perfectly or instantly. But intentionally!  

I think that is refreshing.
 
It reminds me of way back when, as the first day of school approached, the family went out to get school supplies, and I got excited about being a bit more mature that year.

Yesterday we talked about the spiritual immaturity of John Wesley!  He knew much about God and his theology was impressive, but his soul was not yet settled.  When he found himself alongside the Moravians on a boat in a storm, he saw something he had never seen. They were calm because they seemed to know Jesus in a way Wesley was still discovering.

That is the difference between having religious vocabulary and having a life rooted in Christ.

And maybe that is a good question for all of us after a passage like Ephesians 5. Not “Do I know the rules?” Most of us know more than enough rules. \

The better question is, “Do I know Jesus well enough that His life is beginning to show up in mine?”

That is where Philippians 2 (5-11) helps me. Jesus did not use His power for Himself. He did not cling to status. He did not demand His own way. He became a servant. He humbled Himself. He gave Himself up.

And then Paul has the nerve to say, “Have the same mindset as Christ Jesus.”
Again, no pressure.

But maybe that is the point. The Christian life is not self-improvement with Bible verses sprinkled on top. It is not polishing the tin soldier and calling it transformation. It is becoming real. It is letting Christ reshape the parts of us we would rather protect. It is learning, little by little, to die to the old self so something more like Jesus can live in us.

So perhaps this week's work is not complicated.

It may not be dramatic. It may not require a spiritual mountaintop or a ten-step plan. Maybe it is simply choosing one place where your default reaction does not look like Jesus — and handing that place to Him.

One habit. One phrase. One grudge. One attitude.
One way of reacting when you do not get your way.

That is not small. That is discipleship.

And it is probably the only honest way to approach the rest of Ephesians 5. Before we ask what anyone else is supposed to submit to, we might start by asking what in us still needs to submit to Christ.

Let’s pray.
Father, thank You for loving us enough to tell us the truth.
Show us the places where our habits, words, and reactions do not yet look like Jesus.
Help us stop excusing what You are trying to heal.
Fill us with Your Spirit, and teach us to walk in the way of love.
In Jesus' name,
Amen.