Reading the Will
A sermon on Ephesians 1:11-23
When Was the Last Time Someone Read Your Name Aloud and It Changed Everything?
Imagine a scene you might know from movies or maybe your own family story: loved ones gathered in a lawyer’s wood-paneled office. The leather chairs creak as people shift their weight. A woman clutches tissues. A man stares at the mahogany desk, a kid swiping through videos on his phone. The air is thick with nervous energy. The envelope opener slices through the seal. Some folks sit forward in their seats. Others slouch back, guessing they’ll be snubbed.
And then the reading begins. Name after name. What strikes you is everyone gets something—even the folks you thought were surely out, but everyone gets more than they will ever need.
Professor Fred Craddock says that is what we do at church every Sunday. We read God’s will and testaments (Old and New) to announce who is in the will. You made it! Your name is called. You get something. Not a little token, not the lawn furniture, not the leftover china nobody else wanted. You get the whole enchilada. You get more than you will ever need.
Well, since God didn’t die, it’s not exactly like reading a will. It’s more like you are the immediate beneficiary of a living trust. An active, ongoing relationship with the benefactor who keeps pouring hope, strength, and love into your account.
The Letter That Names Us
The imagery of an inheritance comes from our scripture, where the author is trying to bolster a small church community. Because they were going through hard times, the author says they are in God’s will, and they have an inheritance. They have grace, inner peace, daily bread, and each other. Focus on what you have already received and trust in God as you move forward.
It is a letter of encouragement for Christians living in a world tugging at them from all sides–pushing them to succumb to the greed and violence around them. Luring them toward selfishness and falsehoods. Sound familiar?
The author prays for hope, for enlightenment, for wisdom. Whatever the Ephesians are facing—injustice, oppression, hardship—the prayer is that they might have hope in the power of the risen Christ. This passage reminds us that when Jesus appeared most defeated, God raised him up. Whatever powers or principalities are reigning hardship upon us, God, in Christ, is greater still.
But notice what the passage does. It doesn’t just offer “thoughts and prayers.” It reminds them who they are. He reads them into the will. You are saints. You have an inheritance. You are chosen, destined, marked with a seal. Your name has been called. God sees you in whatever you are going through.
The Check Has Already Been Signed
Now about your status as an heir of Christ, you might think you disqualified yourself because of something you did. That promise you broke. That addiction you can’t shake. That anger you can’t let go of.
But here’s the truth—you never could disqualify yourself. Your name was written down before the foundation of the world. Before you made your first mistake, before you took that first drink, before you said that thing you regret—your name was already on the list.
Our benefactor is forgiving beyond measure and wants a fresh start for you. Wants you to know you are loved despite it all. The inheritance has been given. The check has been signed. Whether you cash it is up to you, but God’s already put it in your hands.
Maybe you know others who no longer show up for the will reading. They’ve stopped coming to church, stopped believing they could possibly be included. You can let them know that’s what we do here. Every Sunday. We read the will. And their name is still on the list. Their inheritance is still waiting. Grace doesn’t have an expiration date.
What Exactly Did We Inherit?
We think of heaven, some distant reward. But Paul’s talking about something more immediate and tangible than that.
- We get grace—treatment better than we deserve.
- We get a loving presence as close as our breathing to comfort us.
- We get the whole world to enjoy, to take our breath away in wonder. Stick your toes in the sand at Belmont Shore, drive your fingers into the earth to plant and nurture.
- We get a community of support that will be there for you. A ready-made fan club to root you on, to cheer for your successes, and get you through the rough spots.
But I also believe what we receive is personal, designed, and suited to us.
I love that commercial where the family is gathered for the will reading. One sibling gets cash, another gets an estate, and the third kid, unshaven and rumpled, gets 100 acres of uninhabitable swamp land. Everyone else groans with pity. But he says, “Yesss!” The next scene shows him driving around the swamp in his sport utility vehicle, having the time of his life. Ye Haw!
That swamp land is his inheritance. Nobody else wanted it. Nobody else saw the potential. But for him? Perfect.
The opportunities to engage meaningfully and fully in life will come in ways that align with our abilities and experiences. It may not be all that interesting to anyone else. But when we act upon it, it will make us shout, “Yesss!”
- Some of us inherit the call to work with teenagers nobody else can reach. Yesss!
- Some inherit a passion for spreadsheets and budgets that keep ministries afloat. Yesss!
- Some inherit the gift of showing up with a casserole when someone’s world falls apart.
- Yesss! Some inherit the prophetic voice to name injustice. Yesss!
- Some inherit the gift of reconciliation, bringing people together. Yesss!
Think of yourself as a spiritual heir to such a vast fortune. But don’t let it go to your head and become an entitled trust-fund brat. The treasure isn’t meant to be hoarded.
Henri Nouwen wrote: “We are called to claim our unique inheritance as God’s beloved, and then to share that love as generously as it was given to us.”
Honoring Those Who Showed Us the Way
On this All Saints Sunday, we remember folks who shared that love with us.
If the language of “saint” seems off, we’re using the original meaning—the one Paul uses in his letter. Saints are simply people who follow the ways of Jesus. In our scripture lesson, Paul is calling the whole congregation saints. Just ordinary folks trying to be better people and do good in the world.
Saints are flawed people who persevere. They keep showing up no matter the disappointments, personal setbacks, or political climate. They hang in there, doing the best they can.
I like the idea of ordinary saints. And I know we’ve been blessed through the ones we honor today.
Remembering them and lighting candles in their honor is an important ritual. It reminds us we’ve been given resurrection hope. Hope that our lives mean something and that God will value them in this life and in the life to come. That what we do matters. As Maya Angelou says, no matter how people may try to trample us down, still like the dust we rise. We rise above the hurts, the harm, the confusion and pain. We rise, for we are resurrection people and we have inherited the resurrection spirit.
Living the Inheritance
Back in that lawyer’s office, eventually the reading ends. People stand up, gather their coats, walk out into the daylight. Everyone included. Everyone given more than they imagined. Some clutching papers with wonder. Some wiping away tears of gratitude. Some still processing the generosity of what they heard.
The question is never whether you received the inheritance. You did. The question is: what will you do with what you’ve been given?
This week, as you go about your routines—checking emails, tending to kids or grandkids, making appointments, reaching for the remote, maybe watching election returns—remember, you are the recipient of a holy inheritance. Your name was called. You made it into the will. You always were in the will.
And every time you show kindness when it’s not required, every time you forgive when it’s not deserved, every time you risk love instead of fear, you’re investing the inheritance. Every time you say “Yesss!” to that unlikely calling, that swamp land nobody else wants, you’re living into your sainthood.
Paul prayed for the Ephesians that the eyes of their hearts would be enlightened, that they would know the hope to which they’d been called, the riches of their glorious inheritance.
I pray that for you. For us. That we would see clearly. That we would know who we are. That we would claim our inheritance and share it as generously as it was given.
The will has been read. Your name was called.
Now we live it.
Amen.