Essentials for Effective Christian Ministry

It is good to be with you this Sunday morning. I want to thank Pastor Suraj Pal for the opportunity of having me here, and I pray that God will enlarge the horizons of this church in the days to come. I am grateful too for Uncle George and Aunty Leela, whose lives are the kind I want to follow in my own life and ministry; and for Dr. Simon Samuel, in whose presence it has been a humbling thing to open the New Testament. In these few days I have even discovered a brother in Christ here, Reverend Samuel Pirajan, whose godliness has blessed me and whose friendship I will carry back with me to Bangalore. I want us to turn our attention this morning to Ephesians chapter 1 and verse 18: “I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened, in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, and his incomparably great power for us who believe.”

Of all the letters of Paul, Ephesians stands out as the queen of the epistles. It was written to a church Paul knew intimately, for he had given more time to Ephesus than to almost any other congregation. He was in Thessalonica only a couple of weeks, and in Corinth for a year and a half, but in Ephesus he stayed three years. Imagine what a church becomes when a pastor like the apostle Paul ministers to it for three years. Every morning he taught in the hall of Tyrannus; in the afternoon he worked with his own hands; and at night he went from house to house, teaching the word of God in individual homes. It was here, when a meeting ran long, that Eutychus fell from the window. This was a richly taught, deeply enriched church.

When Paul was about to leave Ephesus, he gave the farewell speech recorded in Acts chapter 20. Before we return to Ephesians 1:18, I want us to note a few words from it. In Acts 20:20 he says, “You know that I have not hesitated to preach anything that would be helpful to you, but have taught you publicly and from house to house.” That phrase arrests me: why would anyone hesitate to preach what helps people? Because very often what truly benefits us is not the most exciting thing to hear. That is exactly why Paul stresses that he did not shrink back from it.

The capacity or success of a church is not measured by how many people fill the seats, nor by how many cars are parked outside. It is measured by the transformation the word of God works in its believers. May this be that kind of church — where, every Sunday morning, no one hesitates to preach the whole counsel of God.

In Acts 20:27 the same note is struck again: “I have not hesitated to proclaim to you the whole counsel of God.” Underline that phrase twice in the farewell speech — “I have not hesitated.” What is the whole counsel of God? When someone is sick, we pray in faith, “Lord, heal him,” and rightly so. But the whole counsel of God also includes the truth that in some cases there is no healing, and grace is sufficient. Satan is a master at deceiving people with a few carefully selected verses. Remember how he came to Jesus and said, “It is written — throw yourself down.” And what did Jesus answer? “It is also written.” That is the whole counsel of God: every “it is written” balanced by “it is also written.” It is precisely this balance that some find hard to preach, because it is not always exciting to hear.

There is something else in this farewell that I have never heard matched at any farewell meeting I have attended. In Acts 20:33 Paul says, “I have not coveted anyone’s silver or gold or clothing.” Many a minister can say, “I never asked you for money” — but asking is one thing, and coveting is another. Out of our education and our sensitivity we may refrain from asking; yet after three years of ministry Paul can look these people in the eye and say that he never once coveted a single thing they owned, not even in his mind.

One more observation, from verse 29: “I know that after I leave, savage wolves will come in among you and will not spare the flock.” Mark those words — “after I leave.” For three years the ministry of the word had formed a boundary of protection around that church. This is a mark of a true church and a true minister: to be able to stand and say, “While I am pastor here, no false teaching will be given room.” May God raise up this church to be like Ephesus — known for rightly handling the word of God, and known for the fellowship of its people with one another.

But look at the devil’s strategy. Paul pioneered that church around AD 50 to 52. Now, writing Ephesians around AD 60 to 62, some ten years have passed, and as he thinks of the church he loves, he is grieved. That is why our key verse reads the way it does: “I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened.” Paul knows their inner eyes were opened long ago — all of ours are, or we would not be sitting here on a Sunday morning while the world outside sleeps in, cooks a good meal, watches a film, and enjoys itself. We are here because our inner eyes have been opened to see Jesus as God. But there is a danger even to opened eyes: after some months and years, they can stop seeing the way they once did. There is such a thing as a cataract of the physical eye, and for that you can have surgery. But when a cataract forms over the inner eye, what will you do? So the pastor is on his knees: “Lord, enlighten their inner eyes,” because the vision had dimmed.

Look at a second symptom, in chapter 3 and verse 13: “I ask you, therefore, not to be discouraged because of my sufferings.” After ten years, here is a congregation that knows everything about Scripture — and yet they are discouraged. My dear people of God, never imagine this could not happen to us. If it happened to a church the apostle Paul himself planted, it can happen to any church, including this one. Discouragement sets in, and little by little it drags the heart downward into the negative.

There is a third symptom, and it is a strange one. After ten years these believers had grown — into infants. This only happens in the spiritual realm. Everywhere else children grow up into adults, but in the church you can see the opposite tendency, where after many years people become more childish rather than more mature. Paul defines what he means in the same passage, chapter 4 and verse 14: they are “tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching.” Who had taught them the word of God? The apostle Paul, for three years. And yet ten years later they are shaken this way and that whenever some new teaching comes along. My dear people who are part of this church, listen carefully: we must be rooted in the word of God. There are many gospels preached today, many celebrity preachers on our screens telling us this and that. Truth is found in the word of God.

One more symptom, in chapter 5 and verse 14, where Paul quotes, “Wake up, sleeper, rise from the dead.” What is the condition of this church? They are alive — spiritually they are alive — but after ten years they are asleep, and their fellowship is with the dead. Let me give this an everyday application, and if it does not fit you, simply leave it. When I go to preach in auditoriums like this, I often see people scattered — one little island here, another there — while from the pulpit the pastor keeps pleading, “Come to the front, sit together.” I finally discovered the reason: many people, when they walk in, first look up to find where the fan is, and settle underneath it. During the singing they are full of excitement, some of them even dancing; but the moment someone opens the Scriptures, they fall asleep. In many churches, that is our condition.

So in this context, look closely at verse 18. What is the medicine for a church that is quietly dying? God is teaching us this today so that this church need never pass through that decline. When our eyes are truly enlightened, three things become clear — three important things about our Christian life.

The first is this: “that you may know the hope to which he has called you.” Put simply, when our eyes are enlightened we come to know why we are here — why God called us. We need not look outside Ephesians for the answer. In chapter 1 and verse 4 Paul writes, “For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight.” It is a very plain verse. When our eyes are opened we say, “Lord, I did not realise you called me for this.” I used to think I was called merely to come every Sunday, put in my offering, and go home. Ask the average believer why they are called and eighty or ninety percent will say, “To go to heaven.” Ask why they were baptised and they say, “I want to go to heaven; I am afraid of hell.” For most of our people, spirituality amounts to escaping hell and reaching heaven.

I want to invite you to reconsider this verse. He chose us to be holy and blameless — and where? Not in heaven, but on earth. Is the whole purpose of God’s calling simply that one day we will leave the body behind, receive some different kind of body, and float up to play a harp in the sky with Jesus? We will indeed be with him one day, in bodies transformed — but there is an important purpose for God calling us right here, on earth.

Notice what Paul says: “he chose us in him before the creation of the world.” Galatians was probably written earlier, and there Paul wrote that God “set me apart from my mother’s womb.” But Galatians was written before his imprisonment; now, from prison, a deeper insight breaks in — not merely from my mother’s womb, but before the creation of the world. I want everyone seated here to know this: you are not here by accident. You may have come because a friend invited you, or just to watch the service and go home; but the Bible says God had a plan for you and held you in his mind before the world was made.

When I read that verse I cannot help but smile, and I want to ask Paul, “Are you sure you were chosen before the creation of the world? Your life up to the Damascus road hardly showed it. I would have expected you to say you were called on that road. Before Damascus you were destroying the church — how can you write that you were chosen before the world began?” And that is precisely the lesson.

There was an Archbishop of Paris named Jean-Marie Lustiger, who held that office from 1981 until 2005. One Sunday he stood up to preach and began by saying he would first tell a story before entering the sermon. The children in the front rows sat up, delighted — the bishop is going to tell us a story! The story was simple. In one part of France there was a gang of young toughs who used to loiter in front of a church and mock the believers going in with their Bibles, jeering at them on the way in and again on the way out. In time they grew bored of it, and one Sunday they gathered to think up something new. Someone suggested throwing stones at the church; others said no. Then a Jewish boy in the gang, named Aaron, had a different idea. “I will go inside,” he said, “walk up to the altar, and tell the priest what a great sinner I am — list off all my sins to his face and ask forgiveness — just to make fun of him.” His friends were thrilled but doubtful: “You don’t have the nerve.” “Wait and see,” said Aaron.

He walked to the front and stood at the altar, reciting, “I have done this, I have done that; give me some penance, I want forgiveness.” The priest quickly saw through him and simply said, “There is a cross at the east end of this church. Go and stand before it and say three times, ‘I know you died for my sins, but it does not matter to me.’ Then your sins will be forgiven.” Aaron was delighted — the fun would continue, and his friends were watching from the back. He went, stood before the cross, and said, “I know you died for me, but it does not matter to me.” He said it a second time. But he could not say it the third time. He fell to his knees and began to weep uncontrollably, while his friends looked on, bewildered: “Aaron, what has happened to you?” Then the bishop, his face set, looked at the congregation and said, “I know that story very well — because I was that young man.” God chooses the most unlikely people, in the most unlikely manner — the very ones we would never think of.

When we grasp this, no one has to work us up to say “Hallelujah”; our hearts overflow with gratitude — “Lord, you saw me before the creation of the world; that is why I am here.” And what is the greatest blessing you could ever receive from Jesus? Look at verse 3: “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ” — and the very next words are, “for he chose us.” The greatest blessing God has to offer his people is that he chose us before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless.

That greatest blessing is not a fleet of cars — to think so is a false gospel, and it takes only common sense to see it. Who is the richest man in India? Ambani. Guess how many cars he owns — not fifty or a hundred, but around three hundred and fifty, most of them customised to his exact comfort, colour, and interior. How many days did he fast and pray to get them? Meanwhile we pray hard, “Lord, give me a new car,” and end up with a third- or fourth-hand one. I am not saying God will not provide our needs — he will, and there is nothing wrong with asking. I am only saying you cannot measure the blessings of God in material things. Under the old covenant, blessings were material — what you could see with your eyes and touch with your hands. That is why Paul deliberately chooses the words “every spiritual blessing,” not material. And what is that blessing? He has chosen us, before the creation of the world, to be holy and blameless. If you have a good car, enjoy it — but never look down on the person who has none, as though he were under a curse, and never make him feel he must simply pray harder to be blessed. That is not how blessing is measured.

So we have seen what kind of people he chose — the most unlikely; and when — before the creation of the world; and how — in the most unlikely manner. But what does “holy and blameless” mean? We have too conveniently invented our own definitions of holiness — measuring it by the colour of a person’s shirt, or by the way he walks: “Look how he walks; he must be a holy man.” First of all, holiness is a call. You do not do certain things in order to become holy; you do certain things because you have been called to be holy. Chapter 5 and verse 3 helps here: “Among you there must not be even a hint of sexual immorality, or of any kind of impurity, or of greed.” Paul does not say to avoid these things in order to become holy; he says, “because these are improper for God’s holy people.” You are already called holy — now become what you already are.

When our eyes are enlightened, we will no longer be satisfied with two hours of service on a Sunday morning, or with five minutes of prayer and meditation each day. A holy restlessness grows inside us: “Am I carrying myself worthily before others, since I am called to be holy? There are things that, if I do them, are simply unbecoming of who I am.”

What is God’s purpose in all this? Look at chapter 2 and verses 6 and 7: “God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms, in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace.” Note that word “show.” The ultimate purpose is that, when his people are holy and blameless, God can display them before the world. The same idea appears in chapter 3 and verse 10: “so that through the church the manifold wisdom of God might now be made known.” God wants to showcase us.

Holiness is not measured by how well we can clap on a Sunday morning. The way we handle money is a good indicator of where we stand with God, and so is the way we use our tongue. I heard a sentence years ago that I have never forgotten and that still provokes me to this day: there are many people in our churches who speak in other tongues but have no control over their mother tongue. The measure of holiness is not how fluently you can speak in tongues. If someone claims, “I cannot stop speaking in tongues,” that is already worth questioning — and if you then visit his home and find a husband with no control over himself, no connection with his children, shouting and yelling at his wife, what kind of holiness is that? We must be willing to question it.

Those who belong to this church, listen carefully. Do you know God’s purpose for your family? He wants to display it to the world — the way you love one another, the way a husband loves his wife. That is what chapter 5 is about; I do not have time to read it now, but that is the true measure of spirituality. Paul did not include chapter 5 merely to fill pages, nor did he simply borrow it from some household code of his day; it is the way you work out your spirituality in daily life. And children, the indicator of your holiness is how well you obey your parents. If you are a child who will not submit to your parents, that is unbecoming of you. When your parents say, “Be home by six,” and you say, “I will not” — and I say this because I have seen many like it, young people with zero respect for their parents who are nonetheless gifted worship leaders. How can that be? God’s plan is to showcase you to the world, to point and say, “Look at this child — how obedient, how full of respect.”

Where I come from, in Kerala, most people have a single dream in life: to build a house. I have attended many housewarming services there, and you know how they usually go. Hardly anyone is interested in the prayer. The service is set for ten o’clock, but most arrive around a quarter to twelve, in time for lunch. The pastor is quietly briefed by the owner: “Don’t preach a long sermon — keep it short and to the point, because people of other faiths are coming too; be considerate.” By half past twelve the prayer is over. After the food, you want to go home — perhaps there is another meeting in the afternoon, or you simply want to rest — so you tell the owner, “Uncle, thank you; God bless your house,” and try to leave. But most will not let you go: “You saw my house? Come, come, let me show you every room. You see this fan? Brought from Germany. And this door handle? And these tiles — where do you think I got them?” — until you are obliged to admire it all: “These tiles are lovely; where did you buy them?” They want to boast about every material used, and they will convince you there is no house like theirs in the whole area.

Do you know God’s dream? He wants to boast — by showing us to the world. “Have you seen a holy family like this? In Dehradun, is there a home like this, where they do not shout at each other?” That is God’s dream.

Look again at chapter 1. After speaking of God’s choosing, Paul continues in verse 5: “He predestined us for adoption to sonship through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure” — and in verse 6, “to the praise of his glorious grace.” He chose us and made us his children so that his glory might be praised. We had thought the whole matter was simply, “God loves me, I love God, I am going to heaven.” But the Bible says you are called for a greater purpose: to give God reason to boast over you.

Paul uses one word again and again through this letter — “walk.” In chapter 4:1, walk in a manner worthy of your calling. In chapter 5:2, walk in the way of love. In chapter 5:8, walk as children of light. In chapter 5:15, do not walk as unwise people. If you have ever been on a seashore, you can easily read the footprints of those who went ahead of you — whether they belonged to an adult or a child, a man or a woman, whether the person was carrying a heavy load, walking straight or zigzagging. Our walk shows who we are. What footprints did we leave last week? Can people look at them and say, “There goes a mature man of God, a person of godly values”? Or do our footprints say, “There is someone immature, a man with no control over his tongue”? When our eyes are enlightened, we suddenly see that the spiritual life is serious business — not a matter of disembodied bodies and harps in the sky, but of leaving good footprints and being displayed before the world in God’s church.

The second thing we come to know when our eyes are enlightened is this: “the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people.” It is a difficult phrase. Whose inheritance is it? A careful reader will notice that the same word “inheritance” appears earlier, in verse 14, where it speaks of the believer’s inheritance — the inheritance we will receive, guaranteed to us by the indwelling Holy Spirit. But the inheritance in verse 18 is not ours; it is God’s inheritance. When our eyes are enlightened, we see our own value in the sight of God — how precious we are to him.

In chapter 2 and verse 10 Paul uses a brilliant word: we are “God’s masterpiece,” his finest work. What makes us his masterpiece? Not that we are good-looking, or clever, or attractive to one another. We are God’s inheritance because his image is reflected in us; that is why Paul calls us his masterpiece. I often ponder this, and I can scarcely believe that I am God’s inheritance. I had assumed God’s inheritance must be diamonds, or gold mines — but the Bible says his inheritance is in his holy people.

What determines the value of an object? Not its size or its quantity, but the price paid for it. All these chairs in this hall we might buy for seventy or eighty thousand rupees, perhaps a lakh. Someone could stand here and say, “Look at all these chairs” — but if another holds up a single diamond in his hand, which is worth more, the diamond or the whole roomful of chairs? Value is set by cost. Why then does Scripture say you are his inheritance? Consider the price. What did it cost God to create the world? A word — he spoke, and it was. But what did it cost God to make us his holy people? His own Son, his only Son. As one thinker said, if heaven searched, it would find nothing more precious to give; there is no costlier gift imaginable. The greatest price was paid for the very people seated in this hall. When our inner eyes are opened, we see it: I am his inheritance. That is what verse 7 declares: “In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins.” It is the blood of Christ.

So the three things of verse 18 are already present, in seed, from verse 3 to verse 14 — which in the Greek is a single, unbroken sentence. The Father chose us to be holy and blameless (verse 4); the Son redeemed us by his blood, which is why we are his treasured inheritance (verse 7). It is a profound piece of writing. After describing the Father’s plan, Paul says, “to the praise of his glory”; after the Son’s sacrifice, again, “to the praise of his glory.” Here is the Trinity: the Father planning, and the Son stepping forward to say, “I will pay the cost of all you plan.”

There is a third thing we come to know when our eyes are enlightened: “his incomparably great power for us who believe.” Suddenly we look at everything differently, because we know that incomparable power is available to us. From verse 13 onward Paul describes the Holy Spirit and then adds, once more, “to the praise of his glory”: “When you believed, you were marked in him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit, who is a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance.” So the Father planned it, the Son paid for it, and now the Holy Spirit seals it for eternity. A seal marks ownership — and to whom do we belong? We belong to God: to the Father, to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. As Scripture says, “If God is for us, who can be against us?” This is a God who is for you — Father, Son, and Spirit, all for you.

Why does Paul write “incomparably great power”? Ephesians is full of such superlatives. He could simply have said, “that you may know the power of God.” The word most likely reflects the context of Ephesus, a city with its great temple of Artemis, steeped in idolatry, where people were accustomed to spiritual power and to getting things done through it. Paul is saying: if you are a child of God, the power at work in you is not of that order at all — it is incomparably great. Demons cannot stand before a child of God.

Servants and people of God, I want you to know this: the power with which we have been empowered is no ordinary power; it is an incomparably great power. This morning I woke around five o’clock with something on my heart. There is such a thing as a spirit of oppression — when you long to rise to greater heights in life and in ministry, but you feel pressed down from every side. There are people here today who feel exactly that, hemmed in from all four corners. There is good news for you: if you will let this incomparably great power work through your life today, you will walk out of this hall a different person, carrying home a peace you have never known, feeling a heavy weight lifted off your heart. This is the power of God. We serve a living God, a miracle-working God; there is no God like Jesus and no power like the Holy Spirit in all the world.

Let every spirit of oppression be defeated in Jesus’ name, and every spirit that hinders your progress be taken away. Especially for ministers of God, I speak from experience. Sometimes you feel there is a chain around your tongue: everything is inside you, but you cannot bring it out; you want to preach, to teach, to express what is there, and it simply will not come. I am introducing you today to a power that can break that shackle. The next time you stand behind the pulpit, you will see the difference — you will find yourself saying more than you had even thought. An incomparable power is at work for us.

Whatever is going on against this institution — and many things may be — if we let this incomparably great power work today, no scheme of the enemy will prosper against it. This is God’s project, God’s dream; he wants to showcase this place to the world and to show what he can do through ordinary people in an extraordinary way. So I ask you to stand for a moment. If this word has come to you personally — if you have felt that this spirit of oppression was speaking about you — lift your hands. Father, I pray for everyone lifting their hands. They are not standing before a man; they have lifted their hands before you. I pray that your invisible hands will hold them from this moment, that the power of the Holy Spirit will be real in their lives, that you will transform them and break every shackle around them, and that every burden will be lifted in the name of Jesus.

Thank you, Lord, that we have a God like you — thank you for choosing us, for redeeming us, and for placing your seal of ownership upon us. We thank you, Jesus. Let us give him a hand of praise today.