A reflection on Ephesians 1:1–6

Do you remember what it felt like to wait to be picked on the playground?

For some kids, it was never really a wait at all. They were tall, fast, likable—chosen first, every time. And somewhere deep down they started to believe: of course I’ll be chosen. I deserve it.

For others, it was the opposite. Standing there as the teams filled in around them, watching the choices narrow until they were the last one left. Not because they were less human, but because they were smaller, slower, or just different. And slowly, quietly, they began to form a belief too: I’m not worthy to be chosen.

Most of us carry one of those stories right into adulthood. Pride or shame. Maybe pride in some areas, shame in others. And both of them distort the way we see God, ourselves, and other people.

But the book of Ephesians tells a better story. It’s a story about grace.

Grace That Starts Before You Do

Paul opens his letter with a greeting that sets the whole tone: Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ (Ephesians 1:2). Before he says anything else, he points them toward grace. Not their achievements. Not their spiritual resume. Grace.

Then, almost without pausing for breath, he launches into one of the most breathtaking sentences in all of Scripture. Verses 3 through 14 are a single, run-on sentence of praise in the original Greek—a joyful overflow that Paul can barely contain. He starts counting God’s blessings and just can’t stop.

It begins here: Blessed is the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us with every spiritual blessing in the heavens in Christ (v. 3).

Notice the word every. Paul isn’t describing a God who doles out grace in small sample cups, leaving you wanting more. He’s describing a lavish God—one who sets out a full feast and invites you to pull up a chair. Every spiritual blessing. Forgiveness. Redemption. Adoption. Insight. All of it, available in Christ.

God is praiseworthy, Paul says, because His grace is that generous.

Chosen Before the World Began

So when did God decide to be this generous toward you? Paul answers that in verse 4, and the answer might surprise you:

For he chose us in him, before the foundation of the world, to be holy and blameless in love before him. (Ephesians 1:4)

Before the foundation of the world.

Think about that for a moment. God—who knows everything, who has always known everything—knew before creation that humanity would turn away from Him. He knew every failure, every betrayal, every sin that would ever be committed. And knowing all of that, eternally, He chose grace anyway.

This isn’t a picture of God scanning the playground and picking the fastest kids. It’s more like expectant parents preparing a nursery months before their child arrives—painting the walls, setting up the crib, filling the shelves—all before they’ve even met. That’s the kind of love Paul is talking about.

The blessing is found in him—in Christ. Paul repeats this phrase nearly ten times in these opening verses. The point is unmistakable: everything God has prepared for us is accessed through union with Jesus. Blessings from God come exclusively through connection with Christ.

And what does that blessing look like? We become holy and blameless. Not because we’ve earned it—we haven’t—but because Christ lived the holy life we couldn’t, and died the death we deserved. His righteousness is credited to us. Our sin-stained record is wiped clean. As Paul writes elsewhere, we are presented holy, faultless, and blameless before him (Colossians 1:22).

That’s not a small thing. That’s everything.

Not Just Forgiven—Adopted

But grace doesn’t stop at forgiveness. Verse 5 takes it even further:

He predestined us to be adopted as sons through Jesus Christ for himself, according to the good pleasure of his will. (Ephesians 1:5)

The word predestined tends to make people nervous—as if God is playing some cold cosmic chess game with our lives. But that’s not what Paul is celebrating here. The Greek word simply means to determine beforehand, and what God determined beforehand was this: that everyone who trusts in Christ would be welcomed into His family.

This is meant to give you confidence, not anxiety. God’s purpose in salvation isn’t fragile or uncertain. It’s eternal and unshakeable. When you’re in Christ, you’re not a guest hoping you don’t overstay your welcome. You’re a child with a permanent place at the table.

And notice the motivation: according to the good pleasure of his will. God doesn’t adopt us reluctantly, out of obligation. He does it with delight. Like grandparents who can’t wait for the grandkids to arrive—clearing their schedules, stocking the fridge, setting up the guest room with joy—God is genuinely pleased to call you His own.

That changes things. It means you don’t have to earn your way back into the room. You’re already home.

Grace That Demands a Response

By verse 6, Paul has barely gotten started on his list of blessings, but he has to stop and worship anyway: to the praise of his glorious grace that he lavished on us in the Beloved One.

The word lavished isn’t accidental. In the original language, grace appears twice here—as both a noun and a verb. God’s glorious grace is the kind He pours out extravagantly, not the kind He measures carefully.

It’s the same kind of grace that moved a woman in Luke 7 to kneel weeping at Jesus’ feet, pouring out an expensive perfume as an act of worship—because she knew how desperately she needed what He offered, and He gave it freely.

It’s the same grace that stopped Paul himself on the road to Damascus. He was a Pharisee, spiritually proud, convinced he was earning his standing before God—until grace met him in the dust and turned everything upside down. That’s why he can’t help breaking into praise mid-sentence. He knows what he was before grace found him.

Here’s what’s worth sitting with: worship tends to be loudest in the hearts of people who know how much they’ve been forgiven. If your sense of wonder at God has grown dim, it might be worth asking—have you forgotten how much you need His grace?

Which Story Are You Living?

We’re back where we started—the playground. Two stories, two responses.

If you tend toward pride, this passage is an invitation to let it go. Your spiritual standing before God has nothing to do with your performance. It never did. You were chosen by grace, and you are sustained by grace. That’s humbling, but it’s also freeing.

If you tend toward shame, this passage is an invitation to stop carrying what’s already been taken. The truest thing about you isn’t your worst moment. It’s what Christ has done for you. In Him, you are holy. You are blameless. You are adopted, with a permanent inheritance and a secure future.

Both of these invitations lead to the same place: the foot of the cross, where lavish grace is given freely, and the only fitting response is lavish worship.

— Based on Ephesians 1:1–6 | Part of the sermon series: A People Formed By Grace at Southland Church