One Body, Many Gifts: Ephesians 4:1-16

As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received.

The church gathered on Sunday evening. They were a strange assembly.

Marcus had been a temple guard before his conversion. Helena was a former priestess of Artemis. Demas was a merchant who had once sold idols. Priscilla and Aquila had come from Rome. Onesimus sat quietly in the back—a runaway slave recently returned.

Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.

They were learning to bear with one another. It wasn't easy. Marcus still had the instincts of a soldier. Helena's past made some uncomfortable. Demas talked too much about his profits. The cultural differences between Jews and Gentiles surfaced constantly.

But they were learning. Humility. Gentleness. Patience. Love covering a multitude of irritations.

Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.

The unity was gift—the Spirit had created it. But keeping it required effort. Every effort. The bond of peace was fragile, precious, worth fighting for.

There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to one hope when you were called; one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.

The elder began to recite the confession. The church joined in—a ragged chorus learning to speak in unison.

One body. One Spirit. One hope. One Lord. One faith. One baptism. One God.

Seven ones. Seven foundations of unity. Not uniformity—they were obviously different. But unity. One shared reality beneath all the differences.

But to each one of us grace has been given as Christ apportioned it.

And yet—diversity. To each one. Not to some. Each. Grace had been given. Gifts distributed. Christ himself doing the apportioning.

Helena's gift was different from Marcus's. Onesimus served differently than Demas. The body was one, but the members were many.

This is why it says: "When he ascended on high, he took many captives and gave gifts to his people."

The elder quoted the psalm—interpreted now through Christ's ascension. The victorious king ascending, distributing plunder to his people. Christ ascending, distributing gifts to his church.

So Christ himself gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the pastors and teachers.

The gifts listed. Apostles like Paul—church planters, foundation layers. Prophets—speaking God's word to specific situations. Evangelists—proclaimers of good news. Pastors and teachers—shepherds who fed the flock with truth.

Priscilla and Aquila functioned as teachers. A traveling evangelist had passed through last month. The elder shepherded. Each gift served the whole.

To equip his people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up.

The purpose of the gifts: equipping. Not doing all the ministry but equipping others to minister. Not creating dependence but building capacity.

Works of service. Every member serving. Not just the gifted leaders but the whole body working. The building rising as each part contributed.

Until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ.

Until. The process had a destination. Unity in the faith. Knowledge of Christ. Maturity. The fullness of Christ as the measure—nothing less would do.

They were not there yet. The arguments still happened. The immaturity still showed. But they were moving toward the goal.

Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of deceitful people.

The danger of immaturity: instability. Every new teaching created a crisis. Every persuasive speaker gathered a following. They had been tossed and blown too many times.

Cunning and craftiness. False teachers had come through Ephesus. Deceitful people with clever schemes. The infant church was vulnerable.

Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will grow to become in every respect the mature body of him who is the head, that is, Christ.

Speaking the truth in love. Truth without love was harsh. Love without truth was sentimental. The combination was Christian maturity.

Growing in every respect. Not just knowledge. Not just feeling. Every respect. Mature in doctrine and practice, in community and mission.

Christ is the head. They were his body—responsive to his direction, connected to his life, growing toward his fullness.

From him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work.

From him. The life flowed from Christ. Every supporting ligament. Every member connected, every joint supporting. The body wasn't built by a few—it was built by each part doing its work.

Onesimus looked around the room. He was the newest, the least, the one with the shadowed past. But he was a part. A ligament. A member with work to do.

The body of Christ was being built. He was part of the building.

As each part does its work.

Including him.