Ephesians 4:17-32
Rev. Nick Cheek
The Summer after I graduated from college, three friends and I embarked on a backpacking trip throughout Europe. It was an adventure to say the least. To get around, we used Eurail train passes so we could travel wherever and whenever we wanted – as long as there was a seat open. All four of us adopted specific roles in the group. One of us was the comic relief, one was the planner, one was the “have fun at all costs” friend… and I… well, I was the babysitter. Yep, that was my role. Truth be told, I only received that role because I was the one friend who didn’t care about wearing one of those under-the-shirt fanny packs. (you know… those things that kept all the essential documents as you were sightseeing…). The rest of the boys laughed it up as I continued to geek out wearing that thing. They joked about it every day until the fateful day when the planner of the group lost all 4 of our Eurail passes. He left them at a payphone, never to be seen again. Of course, this was before smartphones and the widespread use of digital documents, so we had to go through all kinds of red tape to get new copies printed up for us. But guess where all four tickets went once we received them? In my trusty-dandy fanny pack. [Pause] As the babysitter, it was my role to keep us out of trouble throughout the duration of the trip. We went all over—Berlin, Salzburg, Florence, Rome, Prague, Paris, and Switzerland. Our last stop was Amsterdam. Now, if you’ve ever been to Amsterdam, you know it’s a beautiful city. The architecture still carries the soul of centuries past, and the streets hum with art, music, and culture. It’s a place that truly celebrates freedom—freedom of expression, freedom of belief, freedom from belief, and freedom to live however one chooses.
Walking the city, I was struck by the sheer variety of people and perspectives. In the same neighborhood, you could find historic churches and modern art galleries, quiet parks and boisterous bars, sacred spaces, along with all kinds of places your preacher would rather not linger. Over the course of a single day, I saw freedom on full display—freedom to celebrate, to consume, to gather, to escape. And yet tucked among all of it were places that offered a different kind of freedom: sanctuaries with open doors, inviting anyone weary or curious to step inside. These sacred spaces reminded me that even in the most outwardly free places, the soul still searches for spiritual connection.
Ephesus, in Paul’s day, wasn’t all that different. It was just as cosmopolitan, just as layered, just as spiritually complex. Ephesus was located on the western coast of Asia Minor (which is modern-day Turkey). It was a bustling port city connecting multiple trade routes between North Africa, Asia Minor, and Europe. Between 200 and 300 thousand people lived there, which made it one of the more significant urban areas in the Roman Empire at the time.
People there worshipped a wide range of gods and pursued all kinds of paths. It was a city full of vitality and possibility—and also a place where it was easy to lose your way. Paul lived there for more than three years, investing deeply in building a community rooted in Christ. During that time, Paul began to see the cultural forces shaping people’s hearts. Some chased wealth. Others chased power or prestige… But the most persistent pull Paul saw—the one that seemed hardest to shake— was the temptation to place the self at the center of everything. That is the idol Paul warns us about in today’s passage: the subtle but powerful belief that life is ultimately all about me—my needs, my desires, my comfort, my truth, my purpose, my security, my way.
In his book Lost in Transition: The Dark Side of Emerging Adulthood, sociologist Christian Smith names something that many of us sense but struggle to put into words. After hundreds of interviews with adults across the country, he describes a growing pattern, and he identifies to two specific revelations: People are becoming more self-focused, and at the same time, more disconnected from a larger sense of shared responsibility or purpose.
Smith argues that social media, smartphones, and the 24/7 noise of digital life are a culprit—but he also goes further. Smith argues that what’s really changed is the way people make decisions about what matters.
He puts it this way: “Ethics was once revealed, inherited, and shared—through the family, in the church, by adult mentors, and peer groups—but now it is thought of as something that emerges in the privacy of your own heart.”
In other words, over the decades, there has been a gradual unraveling of the shared spaces that once shaped our values and decisions. There was a time when people were shaped by a community: grandparents, teachers, pastors, youth leaders, neighbors who knew your name. Today, more and more, people are left to figure things out on their own, trying to navigate life’s toughest questions without much guidance. All of this points to what Paul highlights this morning—a rise in individualism where the self is not only more important than the larger community but also more isolated. There is a declining perceived need for community, shared beliefs, church, or even a sacred story that connects us to something greater than ourselves.
And this shift… it’s evident. It shows up in the loneliness epidemic that mental health professionals have been warning us about. It appears in the decline of civic engagement, the collapse of third spaces, and the rise of digital echo chambers that keep us more informed but less known. It manifests in how quickly we cancel, mock, and laugh at people’s misfortunes—simply because it’s not us this time. [Pause]
In our scripture this morning, Ephesians, Paul calls this old way of thinking. that this is the old way of thinking – one that doesn’t just lead to selfishness, but leads to separation. It closes us off from each other. The old way makes our hearts hard… and numb to the people around us.
The old self, Paul suggests, goes all the way back to the beginning. The old self finds its root in the Garden of Eden. It was there when we first began to turn our worship from God and towards ourselves. It was then that our pride started to convince us that we didn’t need a God, or anyone else telling us how to live… we could be our own God. It was also then that the world found itself broken… incomplete… fallen… and in need of another way… in need of a savior.
In his letter to the Ephesians, Paul is trying to convince us that there is a better way. We don’t have to live wrapped up in ourselves anymore. AND We also don’t have to go it alone anymore. We can be free. We can be free to embrace what Paul calls… the New Self.
Now, there is something profoundly different about the New Self… And this is the core of Paul’s message to the church. The most important difference between the old self and the new self isn’t a list of moral rules or do’s and don’ts… it’s not the ability to know right from wrong… the biggest difference is this: While the Old Self puts the individual at the center of the universe, the new self places Jesus Christ there instead. While the old self claims to belong to no one, the New Self asserts belonging to a God who has called all of us together as sons and daughters. The New Self remembers this – (our baptism) That we are new creations… the old has passed away, and the new has come. The New Self is Free… free from the past… free from the emptiness of a life solely focused on me. The new self is filled with the love, grace, and peace of Jesus Christ.
[Pause] In our first passage from Colossians 3, Paul invites us to PUT on this new self… as if it were a garment. “Clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience,” he writes. In this way, Paul points us back to our identity in Christ by saying, This is what it looks like to live as someone who is chosen, loved, and held by God. [Pause]
Church, if I’m being truthful with you this morning… I struggle to put on the New Self. I know what Paul says. I know what I want to believe is true. But sometimes—I forget.
Sometimes I’m tired. Sometimes I feel discouraged. Sometimes I’m frustrated with the world, with people, or even with myself. And in those moments, it feels so much easier to fall back into the old self. To adopt the old way of thinking—covering up with self-protection, defensiveness, cynicism, and impatience. To become the person who tells me to give up on those I disagree with because we’ll never find common ground. To be drawn more and more back into isolation and a go-it-alone attitude. But the truth is—every time I revert to that old self, I feel it. That tightening. That narrowing. That slow drift away from the person God is calling me to be—toward someone less hopeful, more pessimistic… more withdrawn and closed off… and less open and vulnerable.
And I think the truth of the matter is this – I need help letting go of the old self… and putting on the new self. We all do. We need each other. Paul doesn’t just invite us to put on the new self on our own—he assumes we’re doing it together – With folks who know us, forgive us, pray for us, challenge us, and walk beside us… friends, family, church members… reminding us… again and again…who we are and whose we are. People who center us… ground us… see us… and affirm the NEW self that God is shaping within us.
And friends… the church—when it’s working as Christ intends—is meant to be that kind of community.
A place where we hold one another’s stories. A place where it’s okay not to be OK. A place where you can be yourself (all of yourself… imperfections, failures, and disappointments) knowing that you are accepted and loved anyway. A place where we struggle… where we struggle together with what’s happening in our world, but then also encourage each other to keep on being a light. A place filled with grace…a deep and abiding grace that we can’t find anywhere else. A place where people know your name… and notice when you’re missing. A place where we learn—week after week, tear after tear, prayer after prayer—how to live as people being made new… together.
Friends. The new self doesn’t emerge in isolation—it is formed in relationship. And that is by God’s design. WE NEED EACH OTHER.
Martin Luther – “This life, therefore, is not godliness but the process of becoming godly, not health but getting well, not being but becoming, not rest but exercise. We are not now what we shall be, but we are on the way. The process is not yet finished, but it is ongoing. This is not the goal, but it is the right road.”
Friends, if you’ve had a tough week… if you’ve been leaning on your old self a little more… remember that we are a work in progress… This morning is a gracious invitation to let go… embrace forgiveness… and continue doing your best to put on the new self… clothed in the mercy and grace of Jesus Christ. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Benediction: Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. 16 Let the message of Christ dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom through psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts. 17 And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.