One of the evidences of being adopted into God’s family is that we pray. Paul says in Romans 8:15, “You have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’” In the family of God, we have the privilege of baring our hearts to the Father.
Yet for all the privilege it represents, prayer can be a challenge. Charles Simeon, a minister in Cambridge for fifty-four years, on one occasion said it was easier for a pastor to preach and study for five hours than to pray for his people for one half hour.
We will be helped as we remember that when we come to God, we come to Him as our generous Father. That is the way Jesus taught us to pray (Matt. 6:9; 7:9–10; Luke 11:2). And few prayers demonstrate this attitude for us like Paul’s prayer in Ephesians 3:14–21. As we consider what Paul asks, on what basis he asks, and why he asks it, we can see what it means to pray as children in the family of God.
What Does Paul Ask?
As Paul prays, we can see, first, that he’s not preoccupied with material things or undesirable circumstances. Those are real concerns, but they’re not the central issue. Jesus had told the disciples, regarding their anxiety for needs like food and clothing, “Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you” (Matt. 6:33).
So the prayer that Paul prays is first of all a prayer for the kingdom: “that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being” (v. 16). Our “inner being” is our essential self, the real core. Just as a golf swing depends on core strength, so our whole life depends on the strength of our inner being. The work of the Spirit of God within our hearts is to transform us, strengthening that core self even while the outer body wastes away with the passing world (2 Cor. 4:16), to the end that “Christ may dwell in [our] hearts through faith” (Eph. 3:17), making His home with us.
Paul further asks that his readers would be “rooted and grounded in love” (v. 17)—rooted like a tree and grounded like a temple. This, he prays, will give them “strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God” (v. 18–19). This takes us far beyond our personal preoccupations! This is more, even, than just asking that we would love God more. It is aiming at our understanding God’s immense and immeasurable love for us.
When you become a Christian, you should find that within short order, you have a whole new view of Jesus, a whole new view of the people who love Jesus, and a whole new view of mercy.
Paul himself had at one point been an archenemy of Jesus and the church—until Jesus revealed His love to him. Paul understood the extent of God’s mercy. This should be true of anyone who becomes a Christian. You may not be lying by the side of the road like Paul was, struck blind by a great light (Acts 9:3–8), but when you become a Christian, you should find that within short order, you have a whole new view of Jesus, a whole new view of the people who love Jesus, and a whole new view of mercy.
Paul’s hope was that through this his readers might be “filled with all the fullness of God.” The old hymn reminds us how transformative that gift will be:
O fill me with Thy fullness, Lord,
Until my very heart o’erflow
In kindling thought and glowing word
Thy love to tell, Thy praise to show.
As the inner being fills up with God’s self, the whole life overflows with God’s goodness—and to the wonderful gift of God Himself is added all the fruit of joy and promise of hope that He brings.
On What Basis Does Paul Ask?
Perhaps we might wonder what prompts Paul to ask for such a generous gift with such boldness. The answer is that he knows he has a generous Father. God can do what we ask, and far more than we ever thought of asking—“far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us” (Eph. 3:20). There is nothing we can ask for or think of asking for about which God does not say, “I’m able to do better than that.” Especially after having sent His Son to die for us, “will he not also with him graciously give us all things?” (Rom. 8:32).
Jesus had masterfully and humorously encouraged the disciples, arguing from the lesser to the greater: “Which one of you, if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a serpent?” (Matt. 7:9–10). What a ridiculous idea! If sinful human fathers are not so cold, why would we ever expect God to be?
John Newton, who wrote “Amazing Grace,” discovered this reality of God’s generosity when he wrote,
Thou art coming to a King;
Large petitions with thee bring,
For His grace and power are such,
None can ever ask too much.
The problem in our prayers is not that we ask for things too great or that our prayers are too big. The problem is that we’re guilty of doubting God’s ability and generosity, and thus we become fearful of entreaty. As James explains, “You do not have, because you do not ask” (4:2). We ought to stop coming to God saying, “We’re just asking… We’re just wondering…” We need not “just” do anything! God is generous—and therefore, we can come boldly.
To What End Does Paul Ask?
Yet with all this in mind, we should also observe that Paul finishes his prayer by praying that God will get all the glory He deserves: “To him be glory in the church” (Eph. 3:21). This, we must remember, is the end of all truly godly prayer.
Just as God’s glory has been, is, and will be revealed in Jesus, so His glory is revealed in His people. It was revealed in Paul when God changed him from an enemy to a son. The believers in Ephesus reading this letter were Jewish and gentile Christians, called by God from hostile cultures and identities into one fellowship, united by the cross of Christ. As they came to comprehend God’s love for them, they glorified Him in their love for one another.
The problem in our prayers is not that we ask for things too great or that our prayers are too big. The problem is that we’re guilty of doubting God’s ability and generosity, and thus we become fearful of entreaty.
But God’s glory isn’t just revealed in Jesus and displayed in the church; it is also to be declared to the nations. Habakkuk looks forward to a day when “the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord as the waters cover the sea” (2:14). Filled with the knowledge of God’s love, equipped by His generosity, and seeking His glory, apostles and missionaries through the ages have sacrificed comfort and kinship, life and limb to bring the word of Jesus to those who have not heard. They went out in the spirit of the modern hymn:
When faced with trials of every kind,
We know the outcome is secure,
And Christ will have the prize for which He died,
An inheritance of nations.
When we pray, then, we do not come timidly before a reluctant God. We come as beloved children to a generous Father, asking Him to do what only He can do: strengthen us by His Spirit, deepen our grasp of Christ’s immeasurable love, and fill us with His own fullness. These are the kinds of prayers our Father delights to answer—not because we deserve His favor but because He has already welcomed us into His family through His Son.
And as He answers, the spotlight does not fall on us but on Him. The Father’s generosity produces a people who reflect His character, display His love, and proclaim His glory to the world. So let us come often, ask boldly, and leave the results in the hands of our generous Father, to whom, as Paul writes, “be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever” (Eph. 3:21).
This article was adapted from the sermon “Entreating the Extravagant Generosity of God” by Alistair Begg.
