Last year Cathy and I had the opportunity to go and see Australian Idol live in the studio. (To tell you the truth, I’m not that into that whole thing.) But whether you’re into it or not, I have to admit it was kind of fun. We didn’t just go as part of the crowd, but as VIPs. We have a friend who works for one of the corporate sponsors of the series, and she got us the tickets. When we arrived, there were two lines to gain access to the studio—the long line for the plebs and the short line for the corporate sponsors. So while hundreds of people lined up behind the barricades, we ambled leisurely along the red carpet and were ushered straight to our seats while everyone else was kept standing outside. It’s funny how the human heart works: we weren’t special—there was no particular reason for us to be there, except that we had a friend; but I could really get used to being treated like that. It’s fun to feel important.
This heady moment of star-like significance came back to me this week as I was reading through Ephesians with a friend. We’ve been meeting on and off for a while now, working our way through Paul’s letter. This week, we came to the first half of chapter 3. It’s incredible how many times you can read something and not notice the blatantly obvious. But there it was, as plain as the nose on your face.
(In passing, can I point out that unless this is making a particular comment about the run-of-the-mill nature of your nose, it’s a largely false statement; the nose on my face is not plain to me at all. I’ve just spent several seconds going cross-eyed, and I still can’t see it very well! Meanwhile, back at the ranch …)
I noticed for the first time in my life the little description of Jesus in Ephesians 3:12. It talks about Jesus “in whom we have boldness and access with confidence through our faith in him”. Interestingly, this is not the first time in Ephesians that Paul has spoken of access. The same word is used in Ephesians 2:18 to describe the access of Jews and Gentiles together to the one Father—an access that, I am told repeatedly in Ephesians 2-3, is totally alien for me as a Gentile. I don’t belong in the presence of God, but God has granted me access.
Every day of my life I have access to the throne room of God through the incomparable death of Jesus, but I treat that as commonplace. And yet I feel strangely puffed up by walking into an episode of Australian Idol ahead of the crowd. There is no doubting the perversity of the human heart. Can I encourage you to stop today and contemplate the goodness of God in granting you access into the presence of the Father? And don’t just appreciate it; use it. God in his kindness commands us to bring everything to him in prayer. You’d be an idiot not to! So if, like me, you’re sometimes an idiot, repent and remember the grace of God in Jesus, and talk to your Father today.
