I once read about a young Irish woman who emigrated to the U.S. in the first decades of the twentieth century. She had family in New York, who wrote that she could find work there, so she saved and scraped and purchased a transatlantic fare on an ocean liner.

After setting aside money for the expenses she knew she’d incur when she got to New York, she packed a bag with food stuffs (mostly crackers) to carry her through the six-day journey. When passengers headed to the dining room for lunch and dinner, she went to her small cabin, got out her cracker ration for that meal, and ate every crumb. She did this for five days.

On her final day aboard, someone asked her why she never came to the dining room and she, embarrassed by her poverty, admitted that she couldn’t afford to purchase her fare and buy her dinner. The woman said to her: “But my dear, all your meals are included in the price of the fare.”

For five days, she went without breakfast and ate crackers and drank water for lunch and dinner, even though the delicious meals in the dining room were hers by right. They had already been paid for, but she didn’t know what she had.

The same thing can happen to us who belong to Christ. He has purchased for us (as the author of Hebrews put it), “so great a salvation,” but we may not realize what we have. Many Christians live on rations when they could be feasting.

Not St. Paul. He knew that God “has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ” (Ephesians 1:3). Those blessing include being chosen by him, made his sons and daughters, granted forgiveness, and given a role in the most important project in the history of the world: the Headship of Jesus over every person, institution, and thing on earth (Ephesians 1:10).

Grace has been freely given to us (verse 6), even lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding (verse 8). The delectable fare of the grand dining room is ours, yet some of us have shut ourselves in our tiny cabins with our crackers and water. We don’t know what is available to us.

But Paul prays that we will see it. He doesn’t want Jesus’s people eking out an existence when they could be flourishing – and they could be. The opening paragraphs of this letter are a paean of praise to the God who lavishes his people with all they need. But Paul knows that some of Jesus’s people are like that poor Irish girl on the ship. They don’t know what they have, don’t know how to access it, and are living like they’re destitute.

Let’s read our text (Ephesians 1:15-21) For this reason, because I have heard of your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love toward all the saints, I do not cease to give thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers, that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you the Spirit of wisdom and of revelation in the knowledge of him, having the eyes of your hearts enlightened, that you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints, and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power toward us who believe, according to the working of his great might that he worked in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the one to come.

Verse 15 plays a now-familiar tune. Because Paul had heard about the Ephesians’ faith in Jesus and love for all the saints, he knew they were the real deal: a vibrant church with enormous potential and a real adversary who would try to stop them. In other words, people in need of prayer.

It should be a warning to us that this church that loved all the saints would be faulted by Jesus himself within a few decades for having “left [their] first love” (Revelation 2:4). If it could happen to that solid, exemplary church, it can happen to us too. The enemy of our souls is too clever to directly challenge our love for the God who sacrificially loves us, so instead he challenges our love for the saints who sometimes ignore us, misuse us, or take us for granted.

God’s enemy understands that love works on a circuit—and we’d better understand that too. He knows he doesn’t need to break the circuit between God and you, as long as he can break it between you and another one of God’s people. So that’s where he concentrates his efforts. When the circuit breaks between you and some other church member, it doesn’t just affect you and them. It affects you and God, and the light of the entire church is dimmed.

Because he knew about the Ephesians’ faith and love, Paul couldn’t stop thinking about them and wouldn’t stop thanking God for them. Notice how he links thanksgiving with remembering (or, literally, making remembrance). This is verse 16: “I do not cease to give thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers.” If we, like Paul, would take a moment to remember the people we’re praying for – what they’re like, what they’ve done, what they value, who loves them and is loved by them; in other words, if we would make remembrance of them – we would make room for the Holy Spirit to shape our prayers. Making remembrance is so much more than rattling off names on a prayer list.

Paul’s prayer for the Ephesians, like his prayers for the Philippians and Colossians, features one principal request. There is wisdom in that. I’m not saying we should make only one request per person, but that we would do well to have a principal request for each person, one the Spirit shapes as we bring that person before our mind.

After holding the Ephesian believers in his mind, Paul’s one request is that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father (literally) “of the Glory” would give them (literally) “a spirit of wisdom and revelation in the knowledge of him.” Yet another Pauline prayer for people to receive knowledge. We pray for peace, for provision, for healing, and for comfort – all good things to pray for – but he prayed for knowledge.

When Paul writes of “a spirit of wisdom and revelation,” he may be thinking of the Holy Spirit, who is called the Spirit of wisdom” in Isaiah. But even if he is thinking of a human spirit characterized by wisdom and revelation, the Holy Spirit will be behind it.

Wisdom has to do with knowing what you already have – those spiritual blessings cataloged in verses 3-14 – and what to do with it. Go back to our friend on the transatlantic cruise. Wisdom knows what is covered by the purchase of the fare. In our case, wisdom knows what Christ has purchased, what’s available to us, and what’s possible for us.

While wisdom takes advantage of the knowledge we already have, revelation imparts knowledge that we don’t have. Because God is infinite, revelation is, and will always be, needed. So, Paul prays for the spirit of both wisdom and revelation.

Notice it is wisdom and revelation “in the knowledge of [God].” The knowledge of God is more practical than the knowledge of economics, philosophy, mathematics, physics, mechanics, or any other body of knowledge. The knowledge of God is life-giving. (That’s John 17:3.) The knowledge of God brings grace and peace in abundance (2 Peter 1:2). Where the knowledge of God is present, men, women, and children flourish.  

The NIV, which many of us use, starts a new sentence in verse 18 by adding the words, “I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened.” But in Greek, the sentence that started back in verse 15 continues through verse 23. It is 169 words long. (Earlier in the letter, Paul wrote a 202-word sentence!) That sounds outrageous to us, who have been trained by USA Today to expect sentences to contain about 17 words, but it was perfectly acceptable in Paul’s day. It is also perfectly clear. Paul is not making a second request, this time for enlightenment; he is clarifying the previous (and only) request: since the eyes of their hearts have been enlightened, God can give them a spirit of wisdom and revelation.

What would it mean for the eyes of your heart to be enlightened? The “heart” in Scripture is the command center. The mind serves the heart by providing information and making plans; but the heart makes the decisions. To have the eyes of the heart enlightened is to have the command center fully informed.

Donald Miller, the author of Blue Like Jazz, had a bad habit: he chewed tobacco. He knew it wasn’t good for him, but he liked it, and he didn’t want to stop. He couldn’t stop. He’d been told that it causes gum disease, tooth decay, and even cancer of the mouth and throat. He knew he should stop; he just couldn’t.

Then one day he was in the car, listening to the radio, and a public service announcement came on. 30 seconds later, Donald Miller no longer chewed tobacco. In a strange, distorted voice, he heard a man warn of the dangers of chewing (which were all things Miller already knew). Then the man explained why his voice sounded like it did: he was missing his lower jaw. Cancer, caused by chewing tobacco, had eaten it away.

During that 30 second PSA, the eyes of Donald Miller’s heart – his command center – were opened. He says that as the man spoke, he could visualize his face without a lower jaw. Suddenly, what had been impossible for him – quitting tobacco – became possible, even urgent. He never chewed tobacco again.

The “mind’s eye” (which is not a biblical phrase, but you get the idea) can see things in the Bible – good things, true things, beautiful things – but seeing them may have little effect. A person might eloquently teach what he has seen to others and yet be pretty much the same as he was before. But when the heart’s eyes are enlightened, a person is transformed. He not only thinks differently, he acts differently.

That illustration might lead us to assume that whenever the eyes of a person’s heart are opened, they will see negative things, like bad habits. That certainly happens, but mostly they see good things. That is where Paul puts the emphasis. He knows there are wonderful things we will miss without the spirit of wisdom and revelation, chief among them, recognizing God in our daily lives.

Years ago, a tourist to Basel, Switzerland, climbed onto a streetcar and sat down next to the twentieth century’s most influential theologian, Karl Barth. The two started chatting and Barth asked him if he was new to the city. The tourist said he was, so Barth asked him if there was anything he was hoping to see while he was there.

The man said, “Yes, I’d love to meet the famous theologian, Karl Barth. Do you know him?” Barth answered, “Well as a matter of fact, I do. I give him a shave every morning.” The tourist was absolutely thrilled. When he got back to his hotel, he went around telling everyone, “I met Karl Barth’s barber today.”[1]

Without the spirit of wisdom and revelation, we may fail to recognize God when he speaks to us. Without the spirit of wisdom and revelation, we will remain ignorant of the things God has already made available to us. Paul mentions three of those things here. He prays that God will give the Ephesians the spirit of wisdom and revelation so that they can know: (1) the hope of his calling (we’ll look at that today); (2) the riches of his inheritance; and (3) his power that is at work on behalf of believers.

The first thing Paul prays for the Ephesians to know is “what is the hope of his calling” (that is a literal translation from verse 18). If they know – which only happens through the Spirit of wisdom and revelation – what God had in mind for them when he called them, their entire outlook on life will be transformed. If they know the hope that comes from being called by God, they will be able to come through hardship, pain, and even anguish in ways that will impress the world and glorify God.

Paul knew that hope keeps people from being blown off course by the prevailing winds of culture, or toppled by the seismic upheaval of politics. Hope enables people who are hard pressed to endure. A shared hope makes it possible for people of different races, different social classes, and different educational backgrounds to work together, play together, and be for each other.

Paul refers to this hope as the hope of his calling. Let’s not misread that, as if Paul had written, “the hope of your calling.” This calling is not full of hope because we receive it but because God issues it. It is not just a vocational calling, like a calling to be a pastor or a schoolteacher, but a calling to join Jesus’s side, his campaign, and work for him – be his special people.

In Philippians, it is referred to as the “high calling” or the “upward call” but we are liable to misunderstand that. “High calling” sounds like the vocation of a doctor rather than a ditch digger. That’s not at all what Paul means. If we translate it, which some versions do, as “the upward call,” it sounds as if we’ve been called to leave earth and take an extended – eternity-long – vacation in heaven. That’s not it either.

I was in high school during the Vietnam War, and guys would talk about their brothers getting “called up.” They were being drafted, called to active duty, called to serve. That’s more like what Paul had in mind. We’ve been called up.

In high school, getting “called up” did not sound hopeful. So, what does Paul have in mind by “the hope of” (literal translation) “his calling”? The hope of his calling is that our side (that is, Christ’s side) will be victorious. Our king will conquer the enemies of evil, suffering, and death. Heaven will come to earth and there will be peace and no more fear. As Isaiah put it: “…the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.” (Isaiah 11:9).

This hope is not just that we will escape our troubles but that we will fulfill our vocation as God’s image-bearers on earth. God intended humans to rule earth and its creatures with love and wisdom. When our ancestors rebelled, they lost that love and wisdom but kept the desire to rule. The result has been devastating. But God has not given up on the plan. His calling is still full of hope.

If you wanted to sum up that hope in one word, you could hardly to do better than the word “glory.” “We rejoice in the hope of the glory of God” (Romans 5:2). We are hoping for Jesus’s glory (2 Thessalonians 2:14b), when he is acknowledged head over all things in heaven and on earth (Ephesians 1:10). And we even hope to be part of this glory, since God called us to share in the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ (2 Thessalonians 2 again). We hope for the day when our faith will, as Peter put it, “result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed” (1 Peter 1:6); the day when, as Paul put it, “the glory … will be revealed in us” (Romans 8:18).

Our calling is to be a part of this with the rest of Jesus’s people. We share the hope “that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.” (Romans 8:21). We hope to play a role in the biggest, most glorious thing in history: a role in making the world come out right, in remaking it. It seems absurd to think that people like us can have anything to do with something so grand and glorious and yet, because we’ve been called by God himself (it is amazing grace!), we are a part of it.

You’ve been called up to live for, fight for and, if necessary, die for Jesus Christ. It is a calling that is full of glory and full of hope. It portends a better world, a united human family living peacefully, joyfully, lovingly, and creatively with God in our midst. It is not a wistful hope but a living one, already substantiated by Jesus’s resurrection – “the sure and certain hope of the resurrection.”

If you think, “But I have never heard his call,” then listen and hear it now. God is calling, calling you to join his side, to join his people, to serve his kingdom. God is calling you to his glory. Can you hear him? He wants you! Don’t ignore his call.

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[1] John Ross, Surrey, England, Leadership, Vol. 8, no. 4.