Some of you expressed interest in reflecting further on Sunday’s sermon, “The Unity of the Spirit,” which was based on Ephesians 4:1-16. But since we aren’t recording our outdoor services, I’m providing a written version of it (developed from my notes) below. It is, as always, an imperfect sermon, and there is much more that could be said on the topic of unity. But division and disunity is sweeping through the church in America as of late, sparing not even our own local congregation, so I’m glad to seize this opportunity to encourage our whole community, including those who weren’t present on Sunday, to consider the Christian call to unity. I pass this on to you with hope and love. —Pastor Duke

Unity According to Scripture

Unity. I wonder what images come to your mind when you hear that word. Maybe it’s the picture of a sports team working together in pursuit a championship. Or kids in a playground dressed in their school uniform. Or co-workers successfully working on a project together. Or some other image of individuals coming together with a shared identity or for a common purpose. Unity. 

And even if we might prefer different words to describe the same basic idea (words like solidarity, inclusion, solidarity, collaboration, interdependency) few would object that unity is a good thing—although fewer and fewer these days seem to believe it’s a realistic thing. Is it possible to achieve? Is it worth fighting for? What’s more, sadly, “unity” is sometimes invoked in order to stifle difference or dissent. 

Despite these challenges and mixed feelings, the Bible invites us to care deeply about unity. According to today’s passage, unity among followers of Christ, and in the church, is not just a good thing. It’s a glorious thing. An essential thing. And it’s at once a blessing and a work of the Holy Spirit—something he does for us, in us, and through us. We are called, as verse 3 says, to be “eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.” 

But what is unity according to scripture? And why does it matter? And how do we do it? To answer questions like these, I want to run through this morning’s reading from Ephesians 4 and draw out eight lessons about unity—eight truths. And then we’ll close with one important application.

Eight Lessons about Unity

The first thing we learn is that unity is a Christian priority. Paul addresses the subject while urging the Ephesian Christians to “walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called” (v. 1). Unity is central to our Christian calling—a vital way we embody the gospel. This, of course, reflects the very heart of Jesus. In John 17:11, he prayed for his followers using these words: “Holy Father, keep them in your name, which you have given me, that they may be one, even as we are one.” Keep in mind, Jesus prayed this on the eve of his crucifixion; he knew he was about to die. Consider: In this moment, of all the things Jesus could have prayed on behalf of his disciples, what does he pray for? Oneness. Indeed, this was not a coincidence; Christ died to make us one. Unity is not optional for followers of Christ; it is a Christian priority. 

Another thing we learn is that unity is a mark of maturity. We’re told in verses 12-14 that as the church is built up in the unity of the faith, it will attain full-grown “maturity.” It will no longer be “children, tossed to and fro.” A splintered and divided church is an immature church. It is also a vulnerable church, a community that will be “tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of people in their deceitful scheming.” Friends, we are more easily misled and manipulated by false teachers and their teaching when we’re divided into warring parties. We need each other if we are to become spiritually mature. 

The third lesson is that unity is a human impossibility. Notice that verse 3 refers to the “the unity of the Spirit.” It’s something the Holy Spirit gives, produces, instills. It is supernatural. So, Christian unity is fundamentally different from natural affinity, that is, getting along with people you’d already naturally be friends with. Consider these words by biblical scholar Don Carson: 

What binds us together is not common education, common race, common income levels, common politics, common nationality, common accents, common jobs, or anything of the sort. Christians come together, not because they form a natural collocation, but because they have been saved by Jesus Christ and owe him a common allegiance. In the light of this common allegiance, in light of the fact that they have all been loved by Jesus himself, they commit themselves to doing what he says—and he commands them to love one another. In this light, they are a band of natural enemies who love one another for Jesus’ sake.

If it’s true that the church consists of those who are saved by grace and not by any other human qualification or commonality, then perhaps our expectations of relationships in the church should be a bit different. Perhaps we shouldn’t be surprised if the church doesn’t feel like your college sorority. Perhaps we shouldn’t be surprised when relationships in the church are sometimes awkward, or even occasionally afflicted by conflict and difficulties. After all, by God’s grace, we’re natural enemies now turned family. And if that’s a transformation that sounds humanly impossible to achieve, well, that’s the point.

But if Christian unity is not personal affinity, what, then, is it properly based upon? Here’s the fourth lesson: Unity is grounded in Christian identity. What’s the most frequently repeated word in verses 4-6? It’s one. Seven times the apostle uses that word not only to amplify the theme of Christian oneness, but also to link together different dimensions of Christian identity and to present them as the foundation of the oneness we share. 

We share “one faith.” Our lives are shaped by the same story of the world—why we’re here, how we should live, where we’re heading—and anchored by the same ultimate trust. We share “one hope.” Our confidence before an uncertain and threatening future in a broken world—indeed, even in the face of disease, depravity, and death—is grounded in the resurrection of Christ. We share “one baptism,” which is to say, we share the peculiar conviction that the true answer to the question, “What can wash away my sins?” is, as we often sing, “Nothing but the blood of Jesus!” And we “wear” our baptism as a sacramental badge that publicly sets us apart in the world as those belonging to Christ. We share “one Father” as adopted members of God’s eternal family. And that means we can affectionately address a total stranger as “sister” or “brother” upon discovering that they, too, have put their trust in Christ.

Our relationships with one another are defined by these spiritual realities—these “ones.” Even those who appear to be separated by astronomical chasms of social difference can share an irrevocable, unbreakable “bond” in the gospel (v. 3). The point is not that we should glibly paint over real differences. Paul is not naïve; few societies were more socially stratified, and few churches more diverse, than the Ephesian world and church into which the apostle was writing. The point, rather, is that even ostensibly different people can share ultimate things in common. We are one precisely because of the one faith, one hope, and one family—and one God—that powerfully redefine who we are. 

Speaking of God, there is in our passage one more reality that frames our Christian unity. It’s mentioned implicitly in verses 4-6—it’s the Trinity. According to the Christian faith, God is three persons one eternal being—a divine embodiment of unity. Notice how Paul relates our oneness to God’s triune nature: “one Spirit … one Lord [i.e., Jesus, the Son of God] … one Father.” The God is who is three-in-one is the one into whose image we are being conformed. Unity is a communal project of becoming more like God. 

This brings us to our fifth point about unity. With all this talk about oneness and togetherness, it may be easy to misconstrue biblical unity as a denial of difference. So, we must promptly consider this next lesson, that unity is not the enemy of diversity. As we just saw, Paul stresses our oneness in verses 4-6, but immediately afterwards he clarifies in verse 7 that oneness does not mean sameness: “But grace was given to each one of us according to the measure of Christ’s gift.” The point is established further with a quotation from Psalm 68, which portrays Christ as a victorious king who generously shares his spoils with his people. In doing so, God blesses and reinforces our differences, gifting and empowering “each one of us” to build up the body in different ways. In fact, the point made earlier about trinitarian identity leads to the same conclusion: God is one (being), yet he is also three (persons). He is unity and diversity—and so must we be also. 

Sometimes the notion of “unity” is used to erase difference or shut down dissent in the church. But this only reveals a misunderstanding of scripture. Biblical unity is not uniformity. It does not demand homogeneity of personality, politics, or cultural preference. In fact, true unity entails a call to appreciate and embrace, rather than erase, difference across our community.

Clearly, then, unity is not easily won. This is a simple but important lesson to be learn: Unity must be built diligently. This is indicated by the apostle’s use of the language of building. Oneness is achieved by “building up the body of Christ” (v. 12); the body “builds itself up in love” (v. 16). Paul even says in verse 3 that we should “make every effort” (or be “eager”) to do so. He uses a word that refers to diligent labor. Beloved, we need to build and preserve the unity of the Spirit with painstaking effort. Unity doesn’t happen easily or automatically, nor can it be demanded or presumed. And if it is to be “thick” rather than superficial and enduring rather than fleeting, it will take time and endurance to build. At times things will need to get messier and noisier on the path to true unity. Not all things uncomfortable are divisive, but there are times the way to unity will feel like disunity. It takes work—and more often than not, tears—to become one. 

And whose responsibility is it to take up this demanding task? Our seventh lesson: Unity is everyone’s responsibility. As Paul calls us to “attain to the unity of the faith” (v. 12), he also tells us who’s responsible for achieving it. In the first half of the long sentence that begins in verse 11, he explains that Christ gave gifted leaders (apostles, prophets, evangelists, shepherds, teachers) not to do all unity-building by themselves, but “to equip” (who?) “the saints” (that is, all of God’s holy and beloved people) “for the work of ministry, for the building up the body of Christ.” And he explains again in verse 16 that this is the job of “the whole body,” as “each part” works properly and makes the body grow. So whose responsibility is unity? Not just the leaders. Not the designated Unity Specialists in the church. Not even those alone who are being especially divisive. Everyone. And that also means that unity is something fostered in everyday life, mundane moments, and ordinary interactions with each other. At your Neighborhood Group meetings. Over the meals you share. In the words you exchange (gossipy and judgy or kind and forgiving?). Even in the unspoken thoughts that you nurse in your heart.   

What, then, are we to do once we we are persuaded of this shared responsibility to seek the church’s unity? Consider the final lesson of this passage: Unity is forged by truth-telling in love and humility. Recently, I’ve been working on a few projects in our backyard, so there have been a variety of tools scattered across the yard: a chisel, a tape-measure, hammer, caulking gun, level. And all of them were essential to the completion of various tasks. Now, surely the call to Christian unity is far more complex and demanding than the challenges I faced in my backyard. And yet, curiously, Paul seems to offer us only one tool for the project of unity-building. He mentions it in verse 15: “Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ.” To grow in unity, we must speak to one another. We must speak the truth in love. What does this mean? 

We must speak “the truth.” Throughout Ephesians, the truth refers primarily the truth of the gospel and the truth of God’s word. We must regularly remind each other of the ultimate things that unite us—the faith, hope, baptism, family, and triune God that make us irrevocably one. “Truth” also refers (as it does in Ephesians 4:25) to speaking forthrightly and honestly—telling the truth in opposition to lies. 

And we must speak “in love.” The apostle gives a few other words in verse 2 to explain what love looks like: “with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love.” Now, there are times when a stern word is needed. Just look at the example of Jesus’ (and the apostles’) ministry. But don’t be mistaken: Public rebuke is not an everyday ministry in the church. Neither is the turning over of tables. And even then, it must be done in love, which is to say, for the person’s good.  

So we must speak. And we must speak in love. Unity is forged among followers of Christ not by denying differences or avoiding the messes, but by engaging them—speaking about them.  

Those are eight lessons about unity from Ephesians 4:1-16. They might be summarized by these key words: Priority, Impossibility, Maturity, Identity, Diversity, Diligently, Responsibility, and Truth-telling Humility.  

So, brothers and sisters, what shall we do with this vision of Christian unity? In what way is it relevant to us today?  

The Relevance of Unity

The American church is fractured and divided, besieged as of late by all kinds of division: political, racial, denominational, cultural. The fault lines that have been recently exposed—in many ways, painfully and dramatically—have long been present, of course. But national events over the past few years (the past year, in particular) have shaken the church, widened these fault lines, and exacerbated strife and disunity in the church. 

Pandemic pressures have caused anxiety to skyrocket; we are collectively traumatized, as Dr. Curt Thompson gave us permission to name. Confronting conflict requires mental and emotional bandwidth—energy and resources. But everyone’s simply out of gas. (I am. Aren’t you?) Physical distance has eroded trust. And sometimes, the most basic forms of social trust are fostered at potlucks and picnics and playgrounds. But those opportunities, too, have been taken from us. We’ve become increasingly isolated and ghettoized into opposing tribes and factions both online and in real life—locked away in so-called “echo chambers” where you’re surrounded only by people who agree with you, and where it’s far easier to caricature and demonize those who don’t.

As a result, disagreement and disdain is more pronounced than ever. People are leaving churches. Pastors, embattled by conflict and caught in culture-war crossfire, are leaving professional ministry at an alarming rate. These wider, cultural trends undoubtedly relate to our church—we are not insulated from them—yet not always in the way we might think.

I have had conversations with some of you over the last year or so, when you have brought complaints about the church and its failures. I value those exchanges and learn a lot from them. But at times, I have stopped you and asked, “Hold on, who and what are you actually talking about? ‘The Church’ out there, or this church right here, Grace Meridian Hill? ‘Those people’ out there, or these people whom you and I know by name?” Because in the age of social media, it’s become all too easy to take up frustrations we feel toward broad categories of people we encounter in the virtual ether and to transfer those feelings onto the real people we encounter on Sunday morning. Indeed, we must be careful not to privilege ideas about people over actual flesh-and-blood brothers and sisters—their personal stories, convictions, and experiences—who are standing, and indeed worshipping, right in front of us. I’ve stumbled into this transference of judgment and frustration. Have you? 

But we must also be clear about this: Our local congregation, Grace Meridian Hill (and the Grace DC network as a whole), is not exempt from this threat of division. We have emerging fault lines in our own local community, and we must vigilant about them—fissures related to questions around politics and culture, questions around gender and sexuality, questions around race and racial history, questions around the pandemic and our responses to it (which inevitably brings us back to politics and culture). In the last year, some have left our church because, to them, our church is too “conservative.” And others have left because it is too “progressive.” Sometimes division doesn’t result  only in discomfort, but sadly, also in departure. 

So these are not theoretical concerns. What shall we do as a local family in our pursuit of “thick” Christian unity? 

Beloved, we must make use of that one tool, that core spiritual practice that the apostle commends to us. We must learn to speak to one another. What does this speaking look like? And how must we do it?  

First, the how. We must speak “in love.” Make no mistake, Paul’s emphasis in this passage is on love. He repeats the word three times. Love means moving toward each other, not away from each other, especially in the face of conflict. Love means making room for those unlike yourself—culturally, politically—and learning to embrace difference, valuing the person as an expression of Christ’s gift. Love means venturing beyond your echo chamber, cultural comfort zone, and regular circle of likeminded friends, and inviting someone into a genuine conversation over a lovely meal. Love means speaking in a manner that’s beneficial to the other person, not beneficial to your sense of being right or your chances of emerging victorious in a heated debate. Love means saturating our words with the qualities listed in verse 2—humility, gentleness, patience, forbearance. And there is, of course, no speaking in this manner that does not also lead to more humble, gentle, patient, and burden-bearing listening. Friends, we must learn to speak in love. 

We must also learn to speak “the truth.”  Remember, “speaking the truth” doesn’t mean bombarding others with your personal opinions. (And let’s be honest, as members of a church in Washington, DC, we have a few opinions!) Rather, “speaking the truth” means, in the first place, reminding each other on the regular about the truth of the gospel. It means helping to nurture the inward convictions about the gospel-grounds of our unity. Regularly remind each other of the ultimate things that unite us—the faith, hope, baptism, family, and triune God that make us irrevocably one. And to to become one, we must be aware of the truth about our inward oneness more than we’re aware of our outward difference.  

Speaking truth also means, as we saw earlier, speaking forthrightly and honestly. It means telling the truth in opposition to falsehoods. It means telling the truth about your hurts and fears. It means resisting passive-aggressiveness coexistence (which is no unity at all), and instead repenting truthfully, forgiving truly, and embracing courageously those whom you are most tempted to roll your eyes at. (Whom are you rolling your eyes at right now?) 

Beloved, our invitation today is to talk more, not less, about the things that threaten to divide us. Because unity is not achieved through silence and passivity. (Who and what are you avoiding?) Someone asks: Are you telling us to fight and argue more? Well, not exactly. Verbal violence, just like physical violence, is the epitome of passivity—evidence of an unwilling to do the hard, messy work of working things out. Communicating. It’s passive just to start swinging proverbial fists. In this age of division and disdain, unity is not achieved through conflict-avoidance, the surface peace that allows sin, wounds, and injustice to fester unacknowledged. Neither is unity achieved through wrath and coercion. Unity is built and forged by speaking the truth in love.

And as we do so—dare we imagine, dare we hope—we will begin to see the glory of Christ’s united body. We will begin to see the beauty of God’s tri-unity in our very midst. And not only we ourselves, but the watching world, too, will witness this beauty. Our neighbors will testify to the wild improbability (impossibility?) that natural enemies such as us could somehow become a family—become one. And they shall, and we shall, see God. 

Beloved, dare we believe that we are one? Dare we speak the truth in love in order to become one? Dear Church, do you hear the call to the unity of the Holy Spirit?