Ephesians 1
Last week the time finally came to retire my iPhone 10 and upgrade to the iPhone 13. I must confess that technology, even technology as simple (supposedly) as the iPhone fills me with me terrible anxiety. Huge pieces of my life are tied up in my phone. And as I write those words, it hits me right in the nose just how sad that is.
Thanks to life in COVID Land when you go to buy a phone now, you’re on your own. You order the phone you want online and when it arrives at your home you’re provided with “step by step easy to follow” directions on how to transfer the most vital elements of your existence from your old phone to your new phone.
When the new phone arrived, I backed up my old phone to “The Cloud” half a dozen times just to be sure and then began the treacherous transfer of data. For me, this is gut wrenching. Putting aside this wonderous “Cloud” I have a dreadful fear that during this process I will push the wrong button or enter a wrong command and everything – contacts, apps and all manner of social media will be permanently deleted. It’s awful.
Miraculously in no time the home screen on my new phone looks just like the home screen on my old one. It seemed like everything had in fact shot from there to here and I was in good shape. And then I tapped the little icon that grants me access to my massive Amazon Prime Music Library and when I attempted to pull up my playlists, I get a message that reads, YOU HAVE NO DOWNLOADED MATERIAL.
Nervous breakdown time. I have, in this app amassed hundreds of pieces of music covering every genre under the sun. If you get in my car and want to hear YoYo Ma, I got you. If you get in my car and want to hear a little Sinatra, some Beatles, Skynyrd, some worship music, name a tune, and I probably have it. The thought of all that being lost sent me over the edge. Even though the playlists were still in existence on both my laptop and my iPad.
As I was coming undone, my tech savvy, very patient wife snatched the iPhone from me, figured out what the problem was, and restored my music. I tearfully hugged her and expressed my lifelong gratitude.
As time has passed since then, I’ve challenged myself with a question. Why is it that I don’t break into that kind of panic when I know I’ve behaved in a way that Jesus is not pleased with? Why am I almost indifferent to that breakdown while at the same time the thought of not being able to listen to the theme from Rocky while doing dumbbell curls sends me into a state of panic?
We live in a world today that breeds unnecessary, extreme anxiety over things that I know must leave Jesus shaking His head. The Creator of all things has promised us that He will never leave us or forsake us. That we cannot be snatched from His hand. That we are co-heirs with Him in His Heavenly inheritance and will live there for all eternity with Him. Why, when we claim to know all that will we still sweat the small stuff the way that we do? How do we claim to be faithful followers on the one hand and then fail to rely on that faith when we need it?
In the Bible we have the Ephesian church founded by Paul on his second mission journey. This was a little church located in a busy city, populated by a deeply paganistic people and yet, it worked. The church there prospered. In the Book of Revelation, Jesus commends the Ephesian church for standing up to evil and patiently enduring in their faith. Until…anxiety strikes.
Paul returns to Ephesus on his third mission journey and stays there pastoring the church for nearly three years. When he leaves, the church panics. Because they no longer see Paul, they feel like they’ve lost their “Jesus Connection”. And Jesus points out in Revelation that the church loses sight of their first love – Him – and although He urges them to repent and come back to Him, clearly, they don’t. In 262 AD Ephesus is invaded by the Goths and a short time later is destroyed by an earthquake.
The church could possibly have missed out on a lot of heartache had they taken the time to go back and read the first chapter of Paul’s letter to them. It’s there in 23 succinct verses that Paul reminds us that Jesus chose us to be His children before there was anything. That He sacrificed Himself on a cross so that we would never need to know condemnation. That He shares His wisdom, grace, and mercy with us so that we are better equipped to reject sin. He loves us with an undying love that lets us know that no matter how big the screw-up, He will always take us back. And that the things of the world that make us anxious Jesus pulls together uses as a footstool.
Check this out, Ephesians 1:7-10, NLT…
He is so rich in kindness and grace that He purchased our freedom with the blood of His Son and forgave our sins. He has showered His kindness on us, along with all wisdom and understanding. God has now revealed to us His mysterious will regarding Christ—which is to fulfill His own good plan. And this is the plan: At the right time he will bring everything together under the authority of Christ—everything in heaven and on earth.
And we will share in that glory if we are living under His loving Lordship. Something to think about. As we stand here at the start of a new year, it may be a good time to ease the anxieties of the world and focus on this. Amen?