The Mystery of Unity

Since my arrival in Germany, I've been experimenting with a Bible-reading method that one of my DC pastors recommended. Growing up in the church, much of my understanding of scripture has been shaped memorizing Bible verses, an activity I found incredibly dull as a child but learned to love and benefit from as a young adult. If you're not familiar with the Bible, one of its pleasures is to find out what a rich text the book is - for anyone, not just grannies and scholars. You can take a single verse and savor it for weeks, dwelling in the depths of the complexity and beauty of our triune God and His Gospel, His good news for all of mankind. Many preachers, such as Charles Spurgeon, could preach wonderful sermons based on a couple lines. My own spiritual life reached new depths and a stronger foundation when one of my youth pastors preached on Zephaniah 3:17's joyous celebration of God's love for his people.

I am grateful for this, of course, but the Bible was not written with chapter and verse in mind. The danger with a verse-focused diet is that the reader sees scripture as a series of disconnected set pieces. Each of these verses are wonderful, but they are only part of the point that, say, Paul in his letter, or a Gospel writer, or a Psalm-writing poet is trying to make. And in the Bible itself, each book, each narrative, each poem, each prophecy are part of a collective whole, the story of creation, fall and redemption.

So it was with this in mind that I followed my pastor's suggestion and, rather than focused on little stories or verses or set pieces, I would read an entire book of the Bible, at a normal reading pace. And re-read it the next day. And re-read it twenty times. (It's not clear to me when we are supposed to re-read it - if it's a once a day pattern or an evening of pure craziness. I bravely chose once a day.)

Ok, I realize that this may sound about as fun as a road trip across Kansas, but hear me out. Like nearly all things that turn out to be worthwhile, it requires some slogging. Around the fifth or sixth time I've read the text (if even that), the words got blurry. I found myself skimming like a lazy farmer, and the reading voice in my head turned impatient and sarcastic. A couple of days later, I would think of things more important than reading it again, like surfing the internet for updates about Brazilian soccer teams.

But hold on. Sometimes, resilience really is worth it. This wasn't some sort of Sisyphean effort of spirituality, but an attempt to know God and his ways from someone who was drinking from the source, in my case, Paul. The book I've been reading is Ephesians, and reading and re-reading the whole thing helped me see the book and the message in a new way.

If you want to delve into a verse or two, Ephesians has some excellent set pieces. One of the first verses I memorized, without really even trying, was 4:32: "Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ, God forgave you." I knew this because when I was five, my mom knew a catchy jingle to which the verse was sung (understandably, she was also keen that I knew Ephesians 6:1). Growing up in a Reformed church, I could not avoid learning 2:8-10 - "For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith - and this is not of yourselves, it is the gift of God - not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do." And during college, I spent what must have been a semester meditating on what the NIV calls "A Prayer for the Ephesians," Ephesians 3:14-20, where Paul's prose seems to turn into poetry and he asks us to do the impossible - "to grasp how wide and how long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses all knowledge that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God."

These verses remain in important part of my spiritual journey and a continual source of comfort, strength and love. But without reading the whole thing, there remains much undiscovered. For example, what I learned reading and re-reading all of Ephesians is that the book is focused on a mystery that Paul seems really excited about. God's unmeasurable love is certainly mysterious and exciting, but that's not it, at least directly. God's providence and that hot spiritual topic of predestination are mysterious, though that's not it either, even if that's the first thing Paul talks about in the letter. Let's quote the man himself: "This mystery is that through the gospel the Gentiles are heirs together with Israel, members together of one body, and sharers together in the promises in Christ Jesus."

In other words, the mystery is unity under the head of Christ. Read through Ephesians, and it's clear how excited Paul is about this point. The theology and poetic assurances and prayers of the first three chapters seem to underscore that we are united with Christ, and the practical instructions of the last three chapters are all about promoting and maintaining this unity. And in a way, it's hard to understand Paul's excitement. I think if I'm honest, sometimes the the things that get my blood flowing, the things I really spend my time thinking about are defending and promoting my gifts, my values, my ways, and the things that separate me or differ me from others. Paul acknowledges differences, but he tells us to bring them together in one house, in one body, in trusting submission to Jesus Christ, whose love is without border.

And maybe that's why unity is such mystery. Whatever our platitudes, unity is difficult. Tribalism is part of our fallen humanity, to treat the different with suspicion, ridicule or hate. To unite with others involves an amount of self-sacrifice that I find unnatural. Paul himself can hardly believe it happens - these walls of hostility being torn down in Christ. The church universal is so often a sad story of division upon division. But, when unity happens, when mystery is acted out, it is beyond beautiful, a heavenly symphony of different instruments, different parts, one leader, one song.

That's a beautiful thought, isn't it? It's a point worth getting excited about. It's a point worth acting upon. And how easily I miss it, in practice and in scripture reading.