God’s Not Done — Week Three

Ephesians 2:11–22

For the past two weeks, we have been talking about what God is doing in our individual lives.

In Week One, It’s There, we discovered that even in suffering, hope is still there. Because we have been justified by faith, our past no longer condemns us, suffering cannot destroy us, and hope remains alive.

Then, in Week Two, While I’m Waiting, David taught us that waiting on God is not passive. While we are waiting, God is protecting us. While we are waiting, He is drawing us closer. While we are waiting, He is working in the details—even when we cannot see what He is doing.

But if we are honest, that is usually how we think about our relationship with God:

My salvation.
My healing.
My breakthrough.
My purpose.
My waiting.
My relationship with Jesus.

All of those things matter.

But what if God never intended for our faith to stop with us?

What if salvation is not only about God rescuing individuals? What if God is building a family?

We live in a culture that celebrates independence.

“I don’t need anybody.”

“I can handle this on my own.”

“My relationship with God is personal.”

Your relationship with God is personal—but it was never meant to be private.

From the beginning, God has always been creating a people, a family, a body, and a Kingdom. One of the enemy’s greatest lies is that we can love Jesus while keeping people at a distance.

But the Gospel will not allow us to remain there.

The same Jesus who reconciles us to God also reconciles us to one another.

That truth matters in a world where families are grieving, communities are hurting, and people are carrying the weight of violence, injustice, financial pressure, and uncertainty. The world continually asks us to choose a side before we choose compassion.

But the Church must ask a different question:

What does the Body of Christ do when one part of the body is hurting?

Paul answers that question in Ephesians 2. He reminds us that before God brought us together, He brought us near. Before He built one family, He made sure everyone knew there was room for them.

God is not only working in me.

God’s not done with all of us.

God Wants Us All In

Paul begins by speaking directly to the Gentiles:

“Remember.”

Remember that you were once separated from Christ. You were excluded from God’s people. You were strangers to His promises. You were without hope and without God in the world.

They were not simply missing one thing. They were missing everything.

That is why salvation is not self-improvement.

Salvation is rescue.

Paul is not reminding them of their past to shame them. He wants them to appreciate the grace they have received.

People who remember grace do not mind making room for somebody else’s story.

Never forget what grace rescued you from. Remembering keeps your heart soft toward people who are still trying to find their way to Jesus.

I cannot forget what life was like before Jesus.

I cannot forget the emptiness.

I cannot forget the shame.

I cannot forget the nights when I was trying to figure life out on my own.

I cannot forget what it felt like to be far from God.

Paul says, “Don’t forget.”

Not so you can live in your past, but so you can appreciate your present.

Then come some of the most beautiful words in Scripture:

“But now in Christ Jesus…”

Some of the greatest statements in the Bible begin with “but.”

“But God…”

“But Christ…”

“But now…”

Those words remind us that God refuses to allow our past to have the final word.

Your story did not end where your sin left it. God stepped into your story and changed the ending.

You were far away—but now.

You were separated—but now.

You were without hope—but now.

Through the blood of Jesus Christ, you have been brought near.

That is the Gospel.

We did not find God. God came looking for us.

We did not climb our way into His presence. Jesus bridged the distance for us.

We did not finally get ourselves together. Jesus gave His life so we could come near.

God wants us all in.

That does not mean everyone is automatically saved. Grace opens the door to everyone, but faith is how we receive what Jesus has done.

The invitation is for “whoever,” but whoever must believe.

Not whoever has it all together.

Not whoever grew up in church.

Not whoever knows all the right Scriptures.

Whoever believes.

There may be someone who believes faith is for other people. You have made too many mistakes. Your past is too complicated. Your family does not believe. You have carried too much pain for too many years.

But you are exactly the kind of person Jesus came for.

There is room at God’s table for you.

The invitation was never based on your perfection. It has always been based on His grace.

This is not the season for the Church to make the Gospel harder than Jesus made it. Now is the time to invite people who have never entered a church. Now is the time to share our testimonies with people who believe God could never love them. Now is the time to listen before we lecture and allow people to experience the love of Christ before they experience our opinions.

Jesus is the bridge from exclusion to belonging.

Jesus is the bridge from death to life.

Not our preaching.

Not our music.

Not our technology.

Not a denomination.

Not a beautiful building.

Jesus.

Because God wants us all in.

God Wants Us All Together

Being brought into the family is not the end of salvation.

It is the beginning.

Salvation is not the finish line. It is the front door.

God did not save us so we could enter His house and then find separate corners. He did not save us to become isolated Christians. He saved us to become brothers and sisters.

It is one thing to bring people into the same room.

It is another thing to bring people together.

It is one thing to worship beside one another.

It is another thing to love one another.

It is one thing to use the words “brother” and “sister.”

It is another thing to live like family.

The Ephesian church included Jews and Gentiles—two groups with different backgrounds, traditions, histories, and ways of seeing the world.

Somehow, God expected them to worship together.

Paul tells them how that is possible:

“He Himself is our peace.”

Jesus does not merely teach peace or point us toward peace.

Jesus is our peace.

Our unity is not built around our preferences, politics, ethnicity, or shared opinions. Our unity is built around a Person.

Jesus Himself is our peace.

Biblical peace is bigger than avoiding conflict. It means wholeness, restoration, and putting things back the way God intended them to be.

Jesus does not simply calm conflict.

He restores relationships.

Through the cross, Jesus broke down the wall of hostility separating Jews and Gentiles. He demolished everything that stood between them and created one new people in Himself.

Jesus did not force the Gentiles to become Jews. He did not force the Jews to become Gentiles. He created something new.

That is what the Kingdom does.

Unity does not require uniformity. Jesus does not erase everything that makes us different. He gives us an identity in Him that is greater than everything that could divide us.

We do not have to become the same to become one.

Most of us think about the cross in only one direction: vertically.

Me and God.

My sins.

My forgiveness.

My salvation.

Thank God for the vertical work of the cross. But the cross also reaches horizontally.

It changes how we relate to people.

Some of us have become experts at the vertical part of Christianity. We know how to worship, pray, and quote Scripture. But if I claim to be growing closer to God while continually moving farther away from people, something is wrong with my Christianity.

The cross does not merely restore my relationship with God.

It transforms my relationship with people.

Paul says that through the cross, our hostility was put to death.

There are some things we have been trying to manage that Jesus died to kill.

Prejudice—take it to the cross.

Hatred—take it to the cross.

Unforgiveness—take it to the cross.

The belief that my group matters more than yours—take it to the cross.

Jesus refuses to reconcile us to God while leaving us hostile toward one another.

The world knows how to divide, cancel, and separate.

The Church should know how to reconcile, forgive, love, and become family.

When One Part Hurts

Think about your own body.

If you stub your little toe against the corner of the bed, your hand does not say, “That is a toe problem.”

Your eyes do not say, “That did not happen to me.”

Your mouth does not say, “I do not identify with toes.”

Your entire body responds because one part is hurting.

That is what the Body of Christ does.

When one part suffers, the rest of the body does not debate whether the pain is legitimate.

The Body responds.

When families are grieving, communities are hurting, and people are struggling under the weight of life, the Church cannot look away and say, “That is their problem.”

If we are one Body, their pain should move us.

Jesus did not bring us together so we could become spectators of one another’s suffering. He brought us together so we could bear one another’s burdens.

The world chooses sides.

The Body responds to pain.

The world asks, “Are they one of us?”

Jesus says, “Love your neighbor.”

The world says, “That is their problem.”

The Body asks, “How can we help?”

This is bigger than race, politics, denomination, or neighborhood.

This is a Kingdom issue.

The test of our faith is not simply whether we know Scripture, attend church, or know how to worship.

The real question is this:

Has the cross changed the way I love people?

If Jesus tore the walls down, why are we rebuilding them?

Walls of pride.

Walls of unforgiveness.

Walls of politics.

Walls that say, “You belong over there,” while Jesus continues to say, “Come together.”

If Christ lives in us, His heart should live through us.

Family does not ask, “Whose responsibility is this?”

Family asks, “How can I help?”

Before God Gives Us a Building

Paul concludes by telling the Gentiles that they are no longer strangers or foreigners. They are citizens with God’s people and members of His family.

Look at the progression:

You were strangers. Now you are citizens.

You were outsiders. Now you are family.

You were wandering. Now you are becoming God’s house.

That is more than belonging.

That is identity.

At Resurgence, we have been praying for a building. We have asked God to give us a permanent place to gather, worship, serve, and reach our community.

But while we are praying for God to give us a building, Ephesians reminds us that God is building us.

Maybe before He gives us a permanent address, He is making us a permanent family.

Buildings do not transform cities.

People do.

Buildings do not disciple people.

People do.

Buildings do not love their neighbors.

People do.

The building we are praying for will simply become the place where the family God is building gathers.

I believe God will provide the place.

But before God gives us a building, He is building us.

Jesus is still bringing outsiders near.

Jesus is still tearing walls down.

Jesus is still reconciling people.

Jesus is still building His Church.

God is not only working in your life.

He is working in mine.

He is working in our families.

He is working in our church.

He is working in our communities.

God’s not done with any of us.

God’s not done with all of us.