which we have heard today in our second reading,
is a magnificent act of praise and thanksgiving to God
for the grace he has shown in calling Christians
into his plan for the world’s salvation,
a plan that is in some mysterious way
older than creation itself,
a plan that is carried out through the blood of Christ
and the grace that he has lavished upon us,
a plan in which the entire universe to shown
to find its purpose and meaning
in Christ and his redemptive work.
It is an amazing vision
of the cosmic significance of Jesus Christ
and of our place within the eternal plan of God,
we who have been created and redeemed
to show forth God’s glory.
On this day, in this glorious cathedral,
that might not seem like so implausible an idea.
Here a vast multitude can gather—
people from all walks of life,
from the humble to the great,
the simple to the wise—
in beauty of sight and sound
that gives some sense
of the cosmic sweep
of the drama of salvation
and the riches of God’s grace
lavished upon us in Christ.
But the church in Ephesus to whom Paul wrote
was not a vast multitude.
It was at most a few dozen people.
They did not gather in a magnificent structure
but probably in the home
of whomever had the most space.
Their worship,
while no doubt both solemn and joyful,
would, by comparison with ours,
have seemed simple and unadorned:
reading scriptures,
praying for the needs of the world,
and, in the broken bread and the shared cup of blessing,
celebrating the Lord’s death until he comes.
And those few dozen who gathered
were not a particularly impressive bunch:
as Paul wrote to the Corinthians,
“Not many of you were wise by human standards,
not many were powerful,
not many were of noble birth” (1 Cor. 1:26).
What is so striking throughout Paul’s letters
is how he sees the vast scope and glory of God’s work
in such small and inauspicious gatherings.
Their small numbers
and humble surroundings
and unadorned worship
do not prevent him from seeing,
through the eyes of faith,
that those whom God has called in Christ
are at the center of a drama
that concerns every single creature
in every corner of the universe.
To non-Christians in the first century,
if there were any who noticed
a movement as tiny and marginal as Christianity,
Paul’s words would have seemed insane.
After all, it was pagan Rome that had an empire
spanning the known world;
it was pagan Rome that had impressive temples
and elaborate religious rituals and festivals;
it was pagan Rome that had an obvious claim
to be the chief actor in a drama of cosmic scope:
its armies triumphant,
its rulers made into gods.
Paul’s belief in the cosmic glory of Christ
would have seemed clearly delusional.
Jesus, sending out his disciples two-by-two,
without food or sack or money in their belts
or even a second tunic,
probably also seemed delusional.
He does not allow those he sends to preach
to take even the most rudimentary necessities
for their journey
or the task of preaching God’s reign.
Yet Jesus sends them anyway,
equipping them with
a share in his own authority
over the cosmic forces
that have rebelled against God,
to heal the sick and cast out demons.
He sends them to show forth
in their words and actions
the reign of God breaking into our world.
For may it was no doubt unsurprising
that one who was so foolish
would have ended up on a Roman cross.
The cross, Paul tells us,
is scandal and foolishness
to those without the eyes of faith,
but for those called and chosen by God
from the foundation of the world
it is redemption and forgiveness.
And what of us?
What do we see?
Do we who sit in this glorious cathedral
see with the eyes of faith the glory of the gospel?
It is a great gift of God that we have inherited
a grand space and beautiful liturgies
that can speak to us of the cosmic drama
of which grace has made us partakers.
But while such beauty can aid us in the life of faith,
we must never forget the true beauty that is found
only in redemption through the blood of Jesus,
beauty that the eyes of faith can discern
even in the horror of the cross.
If we, like St. Paul, truly see with the eyes of faith
then we will know that,
even should the Church be stripped
of all outward manifestations of grandeur,
she still exists for the praise of his glory,
for she is still filled
with every spiritual blessing in the heavens.
For those with the eyes of faith,
the gospel was glorious
before there were magnificent cathedrals
and it will remain glorious
should the time of cathedrals pass away.
So let us pray that in all circumstances—
in plenty and in poverty,
in triumph and in tragedy,
in a multitude and in a little flock—
we might see at work in us
what Paul saw at work
in the humble church at Ephesus:
the power of Christ crucified and risen
transforming the very fabric of the cosmos
through the work of the Spirit,
in accord with God’s eternal plan.
May we remain faithful to our calling
and may God have mercy on us all.
