Ephesians 2.1–10
A Sermon from St Margaret’s Nedlands 26 July 2026
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 body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind. 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. For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them. Ephesians 2.1–10 ESV
What is the difference between a Christian and someone who is not? There are lots of differences of course, but there is one fundamental life and death difference, a change which takes place in us when we begin to believe in Jesus. It is this that Paul explains to us in Ephesians 2.1–10.
Our state before we connect with Jesus, he describes as dead. This is confronting, and can hardly be the case, since we all know ourselves to be very much alive, and in fact Paul says that we were dead in the trespasses and sins “in which we once walked.” How can it be said that we were dead at the same time as we were walking?
You may have seen the movie, Dead Man Walking. I wonder whether the title could have come from this statement of St Paul:
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 …
Matthew Poncelet is on death row in Louisiana for the murder and rape of a young couple. He is visited by a nun, who tries to get his case commuted to a life-sentence. He claims innocence; it was his companion who did it. As the story proceeds you are quickly drawn in to wanting him saved from death. The nun becomes a constant visitor to the prison, and his spiritual advisor. But every so often there is a flash back to the eerie night of the alleged crime, and it unfolds that Poncelet actually did shoot them both as they slept in their tent. You realise he is truly a murderer and has been justly sentenced, and she realizes it too, and finally Poncelet himself accepts the justice of his death sentence, and asks forgiveness from his victims’ families before his execution. It is a powerful story, which, if the author intended the allusion to Ephesians 2, helps us see Paul’s meaning. We were like prisoners sentenced to death for crimes we have committed, still walking around, but as good as dead. Dead men and women walking: this was our state before Jesus came into the picture. You may think this is extreme, and wonder what you have done that deserves such a sentence.
But this is not the only thing that makes “dead” a realistic description of our state. I am thinking of a friend who sadly is no longer alive though he lives with God. His father said to him, “if you abandon our ancestors and go with Jesus, you are dead to me and the family. He became a Christian and the family never spoke to him again; it was as if he was dead. This is a common story, especially in Islam where it is a terrible shame for a Muslim to become a Christian. Stephen Bradley’s father was a missionary in Egypt. A Muslim man wanted to be baptized. They warned him this was very dangerous—for him and for them. But he insisted; he wanted to follow Jesus, and he wanted to go all the way. The next day they threw his dead body over the mission wall. Sometimes “as if you were dead” becomes the real thing. Our problem was that as far as any positive relationship with God is concerned we were dead.
To understand this, we must go back to the old story of our ancestors. God said, “you may eat of ever tree in the garden but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you may not eat. In the day you eat of it you will surely die.” But eat of it they did and they died. They were condemned to death, and were as good as dead, though still walking. And their friendship with God died. They were dead men walking.
But why is God so severe? We come back to the question, what have I done to deserve such a terrible sentence?
To understand this, we must see that in turning away from God we turned away from the source of life. God gave us life in the first place, and sustains it every day. Life comes from God. Also, when we disobey his law, we challenge his right to rule his own universe. The world he created was good, and everything he does is good; when we do our own thing, though we do not know it, and it seems of little consequence, we threaten the goodness of his creation. This cannot go on for ever. So, in turning away from God we are actually embracing death. There is no way out of this—except—except that:
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 …
God is grieved by our turning from him. God is angered by our rebellion. God is horribly offended by our insults—by our treating him like dirt. Nevertheless, he is compassionate towards the terrible fate which awaits us, and persistently loves the creation he intended for such good. He made us alive again. How did he do that?
He does it in Christ. As we have seen, his plan for everything for the fulness of time is to bring the creation which fell in Adam under the rule of Christ, and ultimately that means life for everyone who is in Christ, and for the creation itself. First, he deals with the sentence of death that hangs over us all. This he does though the sacrificial death of our Saviour. Second, he restores the broken relationship. This he does by bringing our spirits to life and planting his Holy Spirit in our hearts. Third, he makes us his children and gives us a share—makes us heirs—of his eternal kingdom. And fourth, and we will explore this more in another sermon—he removes us from the control of Satan.
All of this he does by grace:
For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship …
Grace is kindness. God has mercy on condemned criminals. There is nothing in us that is deserving of kindness, nothing in us that would cause God not to destroy us; only God’s love stands between us and destruction:
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 …
Now let me backtrack a little and say that understanding that we are dead—this is our beginning state—there is no level playing-field where some will perform well and qualify, and others will do poorly and be disqualified—actually there is a level playing field, but it is one on which all are equally disqualified. There is no one who does good and is deserving of heaven: “All have sinned and fall short” of the only standard possible. You cannot be worse off than dead, and that is what we are. And don’t think that this is Paul; in John 5 Jesus speaks of the dead who will hear the voice of the Son of God and live. If we do not understand that we are all begin equally dead, we will never understand Christianity. Why do we get so upset at the idea that God might judge a person? Because we imagine we all have something good in us. Perhaps we do, but we are fighting on the rebel side. Why do so many find the idea of salvation amusing? Because we cannot think we need to be saved. Why is a person who warns us of hell, condemned by all? Because we cannot face the reality that all is not well between us and God. Salvation means nothing to someone who does not think he is in danger.
But God … even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ … 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.
In what sense are we “seated with Christ in the heavenly places”? Some think believers are already in heaven. This is not as stupid as it sounds. We think of heaven as “up there,” but we know this is metaphorical. Heaven could be all around us, we just don’t have the eyes to see it. If we are reconciled to God and are given free access to his presence, as the Bible tells us, then in a sense we are already in heaven.
But I think it is more likely that Paul thinks of us as already raised up and seated with King Jesus in the sense that as our king he represents us, so that in a legal sense we are seated with him in heaven, even as we are slugging it out here in the world. Or he may be speaking of something that is future, but so certain that he can regard it as already done and dusted.
But look what else he says: “that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus.” God saves us so he can be kind to us for the rest of eternity. This is indeed “amazing grace.” I reckon it is too good to be true—or would be if humans had dreamed it up. But I don’t think we would have dreamed up something so weird. All the religions and philosophies of the world agree that good people will do well, and bad people will get it in the neck—all of them except Christianity. And even Christianity, left to itself, always reverts to this “salvation by works” principle. No one understands grace. No one understands a God who gives and gives, and wants to give for ever. It is unhuman! And it would be a joke, if it wasn’t for Jesus, who lived it, demonstrated it, taught it, and promised it.
But you will be worried, as I am, constantly, that some will miss out. How can God be so kind, and some miss out? Part of the answer, I think, is that you must be willing to receive love, if you are going to experience it. God loves everything he has made, but in the face of constant rejection—and that’s what all of us naturally do—we shut ourselves off from the salvation that could be ours. God’s will is to save and be generous, to lavish his gifts upon us for eternity. And when we think of the good things we experience in this short life—and they all come from God—what will it be like to be the recipient of God’s forever kindness?
The last thing not to miss in this passage is that God has saved us for a life of good works.
For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.
As far as we Christians are concerned, everything good comes to us by virtue of God’s kindness. Why am I a believer, and someone else is not? God has made me a believer; I am his workmanship. It is not because of any goodness of mine that I am saved and someone else is not. It is all of grace. This is hard to accept, but it is fundamental.
What then of good works? Are they actually not good? Does God not care about goodness? Yes, he cares passionately about goodness, but we are not good. As the Scripture says, “All our righteousness is like filthy rags.” Everything we do is tainted with false motives. The good we do is far outweighed by the evil. When it comes to knowing God all of us are disqualified. Worse, we are dead. But God had mercy. God qualified us when we were disqualified, God made us alive with Christ. One reason is so he can be generous to us for ever, another is so we can live a life of good works. Good works don’t save us; they are the result of God saving us—never enough to qualify us, never enough to deserve what God has in store for us, but part of his generosity towards us. Good is good, and blessing comes to those who do good, by the very act of doing it. God has recreated us to do good in the world, and amazingly, he says we are recreated for good works “which God has prepared beforehand for us to walk in them.” “Dead men walking” are now living people walking in the good that God has planned for us to do. God has a plan for your life, a good plan, a plan that involves doing much good. So, start walking! Do the walk of life!