The Most Humbling and Most Beautiful Verses in Scripture

Reflecting on the Past

And you were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience— among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the flesh and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind. —Ephesians 2:1–3

Nobody likes to dwell on the sins and failings of her past. After you’ve become a Christian, it can be uncomfortable to think about aspects of your former life. And yet, that’s exactly what Paul does here. In these three verses, he takes a long, hard look at the Ephesians’ past, before they trusted in Christ and received new life in him. As we’ll see, it’s not pretty.

First, Paul says that the believers were once “dead.” It doesn’t get much worse than that! Scripture’s consistent testimony is that people who are apart from Christ are not merely sick or sluggish but spiritually dead. A dead person, of course, can do nothing to help herself. So, too, a spiritually dead person is powerless to improve her condition. She can’t make herself alive; she can’t even ask someone else for assistance. The reason for this deadness is “trespasses and sins.” Those two words sum up the wickedness that cuts unbelievers off from life in Christ. “Trespasses” refers to rebellion against God’s law; “sin” refers to failure to live up to God’s righteous standard.¹ Once upon a time, the evil things we did and the good things we failed to do were a symptom of our spiritual death.

As you think back on your life as an unbeliever—or as you look at the unbelievers around you today—it might not seem like unbelievers are “dead” or that their lives are characterized by “trespasses and sins.” Your social media feed is probably filled with “dead” people who are running marathons, creating art, helping their communities, and caring for their children. But these verses tell us that even when unbelievers are physically alive and doing good things, their souls lack the spiritual life that comes only through Christ.

Second, Paul reveals the authorities the Ephesians once obeyed. He says they followed “the course of this world.” In Scripture, the “world” doesn’t usually refer to planet Earth; it refers to the realm of those who reject God and his gospel. Paul is saying that, as unbelievers, the Ephesians succumbed to the worst kind of peer pressure. Whatever sin was popular was the sin they took up. He says they also followed “the prince of the power of the air.” Elsewhere, this wicked ruler is called an “adversary” and a “roaring lion” (1 Pet. 5:8), a “thief” (John 10:10), and the “dragon, that ancient serpent, who is the devil and Satan” (Rev. 20:2). Unbelievers do the devil’s bidding, and the Ephesians, too, once eagerly followed his evil suggestions. Prior to conversion, the Ephesians (and all of us) were also in bondage to our own sinful desires, “the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the flesh and the mind” (Eph. 2:3). In Galatians, Paul lists some of the works of the flesh: “sexual immorality, impurity, sensuality, idolatry, sorcery, enmity, strife, jealousy, fits of anger, rivalries, dissensions, divisions, envy, drunkenness, orgies, and things like these” (Eph. 5:19–21). As unbelievers, we regularly satisfied ourselves at the expense of others and without regard to God.

Theologians talk about the world, the flesh, and the devil as the three primary influences on our sinful choices, and in these verses we see that evil triumvirate at work. Throughout our pre-conversion past we were enslaved to those three masters, even if we didn’t recognize it. It’s one feature of the blinding nature of sin that unbelievers fail to understand their condition and choices. In our world, to be “transgressive” is to be free, to make daring decisions apart from constraints, to boldly push boundaries in new and exciting ways. Unbelievers often think they’re doing something courageous, willful, and innovative. But Scripture says they’re dead and enslaved followers, jumping to attention whenever one of their masters crooks a finger. When we consider our own past, we realize that we too obeyed sin and Satan with a prompt “Yes, sir!” every time.

Paul’s final phrase in this passage describes the universal condition of everyone apart from Christ: “by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind.” Prior to our salvation, God rightly considered us his enemies and rebels against his holy rule. Every sin deserves God’s wrath and curse, and so we were once under God’s just judgment. Paul also affirms that we didn’t become sinners by doing bad things—we were sinners “by nature,” from the very beginning of our existence (see Ps. 51:3–5; Rom. 1:18; Rom. 5:12–14). The particular sins we committed were simply expressions of our inherent sinfulness. Finally, these verses reveal that this dead and enslaved condition was true of everyone (“like the rest of mankind”), not just those we might consider especially sinful. This truth puts us on the same level with every believer; before the Spirit worked in us, our situation was grim. The girl who was saved as a three-year-old at vacation Bible school and the woman who was saved last year while in prison have the same testimony. They were once rebels under God’s wrath. Paul’s words also put us—when we were alienated from Christ—on the same level with unbelievers. Back then, we weren’t any better off than our unbelieving neighbors are today. Taking a long look at our past isn’t fun, but it helpfully humbles us. We couldn’t do anything by our own power. We deserved only God’s just judgment. We weren’t superior to anyone else. And, as we’ll see in the next verses, our only hope was God.

A Beautiful Surprise

But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in 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 coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus.
—Ephesians 2:4–7

These verses might be the most beautiful surprise in all Scripture. Having walked us slowly through the underground sewage tunnel of our past, Paul rounds a bend and—hallelujah!—we see light. These verses make sense of why such unpleasant truths pervaded the previous section. We needed to acknowledge the gloom in order to appreciate the sunrise. Now we can bask in God’s grace toward us.

God is the one who appears; God is the one who acts; God is the one who saves.

Even just the first two words contain spiritual treasure: “But” brings us up sharply, signaling a radical contrast to the horrors we’ve just meditated on. This is the plot twist we’ve been hoping for, the moment our story’s protagonist steps in to set everything right. And it turns out “God” is that hero. Without God, our story would have continued its inexorable slide into sin and judgment. God is the one who appears; God is the one who acts; God is the one who saves. God—not us—is the main character in our life’s narrative. The rest of this text reveals God’s reasons for saving us, the way he saved us, and his ultimate purposes in saving us.

First, we see God’s reasons for saving us—and all are rooted in his character. God saved us because he is “rich in mercy.” Six times in this letter, Paul uses some form of the word “riches” to describe God’s grace, mercy, or glory displayed in Christ (Eph. 1:7, 18; Eph. 2:4, 7; Eph. 3:8, 16). He’s not just merciful; he’s rich in mercy. He is, as he revealed to Moses long ago, “the LORD, the LORD, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness” (Ex. 34:6). God saved us also “because of the great love with which he loved us” (Eph. 2:4). The reason God loves us has nothing to do with us and everything to do with him. While we might rescue a kitten, smile at a toddler, and marry a man because something about them is lovable, God loved us simply because he chose to do so. In fact, he loved us in spite of our character (“even when we were dead in our trespasses”). At great cost to himself, and from eternity past, God determined to be good to us and set his affection on us. Nothing we did qualifies us to be loved by God, and so nothing can disqualify us either. This is circular reasoning we can receive with grateful hearts: He loved us because he loved us. And he saved us out of his grace (“by grace you have been saved”). “Grace” is God’s favor toward ill-deserving sinners. As we saw in verses 1–3, we were God’s enemies, rebels against his law and servants of Satan. But God is gracious. When we deserved his wrath (Eph. 2:3), he gave us his salvation. God also saved us out of his “kindness.” From beginning to end, all God’s ways toward his people are for their good. Truly there is no God like ours!

Paul then goes on to describe how God saved us. The doctrine of salvation is a diamond with many facets, and any one biblical passage doesn’t cover them all. In Ephesians 1:7, for example, Paul highlighted the forgiveness of our sins. In these verses in Ephesians 2, he focuses on another aspect of salvation: union with Christ. Notice Paul’s use of the phrase “with Christ”: We were made alive together “with Christ,” raised “with him,” and seated “with him.” Additionally, Paul says we are “in Christ Jesus.” The Puritan Thomas Goodwin explained our union with Christ with a helpful illustration: In God’s sight, there are only two men, Adam and Jesus Christ, and “these two between them had all the rest of the sons of men hanging at their girdle.”² Goodwin is saying that all of us were born hanging from Adam’s belt. Wherever Adam went, we went too: into sin, into death, into judgment. But, when God saves us, he takes us off Adam’s belt and hooks us to Christ’s belt. Now, wherever Christ goes, we go too: into obedience, into (and out of!) the grave, into resurrection life, into God’s presence in the heavenly places. Christ reverses all the horrible realities of Ephesians 2:1–3. When we say the Apostles’ Creed, we affirm that Christ “rose again from the dead. He ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of God the Father.”³ Ephesians 2 teaches us that what’s true of Christ is also true of all who are united to him. In Christ, you died to your sin and receive resurrection life now and a secure future in the life to come.

Finally, Paul shows us the purpose of God’s saving work: “so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus.” God saved us so that in every future age—times to come both in this life and in the next—we will display the riches of his grace. When the members of your church walk around town, and especially when you assemble to worship, you are living evidence that God is merciful, gracious, loving, and kind. What’s more, “in the coming ages,” when God’s people gather in that “great multitude that no one could number . . . standing before the throne and before the Lamb” (Rev. 7:9), our very existence will show the riches of his grace toward us in Christ. Proverbs says, “In a multitude of people is the glory of a king” (Rev. 14:28), and so it is with our Lord. When we are joined to him through Christ, we swell the ranks of his subjects, and he’s exalted as a great king forever.

This article is adapted from Ephesians: Life Together in Christ by Megan Hill.

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