The Call to Share Christ’s Life, Prayer, and Obedience

God “predestined us to adoption as sons by Jesus Christ to Himself, according to the good pleasure of His will” (Ephesians 1:5).

When writing to the Christians in Ephesus, the Apostle Paul is lifting the veil on the loving purpose of God, inviting us to contemplate how the eternal counsel of the Father is at work in our lives, in the Church, and in the mystery of our being “in Christ”. Not only is this verse to be explained; it is also to be prayed, to be pondered in the heart, and to shape the way we understand who we are before the very throne of our Lord.

In our tradition, we receive these words with deep reverence, yet also with careful discernment. The word “predestined” has sometimes been used in ways that are foreign to the mind of the Church, as though God had fixed every human destiny without regard to human freedom, as though some were created for life and others for destruction. Such a view is incompatible with the witness of the Fathers, who insist that God “wills all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth” and that He never compels the human person against his will. Predestination, for the Church, is far from being a fatalistic sentence; it is the declaration that Almighty God, in His sovereignty, has from all eternity willed that human beings should be His children in the Son.

Saint Paul speaks of “adoption as sons”. By nature, there is only one Son, the Only-Begotten Son, our Lord Jesus Christ. Christ alone possesses Sonship in its eternal and natural fullness; we share in that Sonship only by grace and participation in Him. God’s eternal purpose is that we should share in the Son’s relationship with the Father. When Saint Paul speaks of predestination, he is telling us that from before the creation of the world, God’s intention was that we should be taken up into the Son’s own filial life. He did not create us simply to exist, or to act as servants under a distant master. He created us for communion, to be taken into the household of God, to live in His presence as children live in the presence of a loving Father.

Yet this eternal purpose of God does not cancel the freedom of the human will. The Orthodox Study Bible note rightly reminds us that “being predestined by God does not nullify human will; in everything God is the Originator, the Initiator – we merely respond, but our response is necessary.” God is always the first to act. He calls, draws, illumines, and softens the heart. Any movement of repentance, any stirring of faith, begins with His grace. And yet, grace does not operate as a mechanical force. It does not crush, override, or bypass the human person. It awakens us, it invites us, it enables us to respond, but it remains possible for us to refuse, to resist, to turn away. Thus, in the language of the Fathers, salvation is synergistic – God works, and we work with Him. The divine initiative is everything, and yet our cooperation is real and indispensable.

How does this shape our understanding of the Christian life? Many people think of becoming a Christian as a matter of inviting Christ to have some place in their lives. One invites Him into one’s plans, into one’s moral code, into one’s hopes and fears, as though He were an honoured guest added to an otherwise stable household. But this is not the vision of the New Testament, nor of the ancient Fathers. To become a Christian is not chiefly to bring Christ into our life; it is to be brought into His life. The centre is not ours; the centre is Christ. Our life does not remain the reference point, with Jesus added as a helpful presence. Rather, His life becomes the reference point, and we are placed—by grace—within that life.

Saint Paul constantly speaks of being “in Christ”. This is not symbolic language, or a figure of speech. It is a real state effected by the Holy Mysteries. In Baptism, we are buried with Christ and raised with Him. In Chrismation, we receive the seal of the Holy Spirit, the same Spirit who rests upon the Son from all eternity. In the Eucharist, we are fed with the Body and Blood of Christ, so that His life may circulate within us, as blood courses through the veins. To be “in Christ” means that our deepest identity is no longer defined by our weaknesses, past, sins, natural origins, or even our talents. Our identity is rooted in Him. We belong to His Body. We share His filial relationship with the Father. We are placed within His obedience, His sacrifice, His Resurrection, His Ascension, and His heavenly intercession.

This brings us back to the phrase from the marginal note: “Becoming a Christian is not so much inviting Christ into one’s life as getting oneself into Christ’s life.” That is a statement to be meditated upon in silence. Imagine, for a moment, the earthly life of our Lord. Think about His hidden years in Nazareth, His fasting in the desert, His preaching, His healings, His nights spent in prayer to the Father, His journey to the Cross, His descent into death, and His rising in glory. To be “in Christ” means that, by grace, we are placed into that whole mystery. The Father’s children are not spectators at a distance; we are taken inside it. His obedience becomes the pattern and source of ours. His prayer becomes the current in which our prayer flows. His suffering gives meaning to ours, and His Resurrection guarantees that our suffering, united to His, is not the end.

Ephesians 1:5 tells us that this entire mystery is “according to the good pleasure of His will”. Saint Paul is saying that the Lord’s predestining counsel is an act of delight. He does not reluctantly endure the existence of human beings, nor does He save them against a background of irritation or cold necessity. He delights to adopt. He rejoices to give the Kingdom. His will is not simply unchangeable, it is benevolent, warm, and generous. When we think of predestination in this light, our hearts are moved to trust. We are not dealing with a distant planner who has arranged our fates in an impersonal decree. We are dealing with a Father whose heart is set on bringing His children into glory.

This has deep pastoral consequences. We cannot say to people, “Your destiny is fixed; nothing you do matters.” Rather, we say: “From all eternity, God has willed your holiness, your adoption, your participation in Christ. He has desired your salvation before you ever desired it. He has offered you grace before you even knew His Name. But you must respond. You must cooperate. You must say ‘yes’.” The divine will for our salvation does not make our choices irrelevant. In a mysterious way, through His Sovereignty, God has willed to accomplish His purpose through our free response. Our prayers, our repentance, our acts of charity, our fidelity in small things—all of this is gathered into His plan.

Let us take this further into a more contemplative direction. If we are called to live in Christ’s life, then we are called to think, feel, and desire within His pattern. This requires an internal transformation. We are invited to ask ourselves the questions, “What would it mean, today, in the concrete circumstances of my life, for Christ’s life to shape mine? How would Christ look upon the people I find difficult? How would Christ pray in the situations that trouble me? How would Christ use the time that has been given to me?” To meditate on being “in Christ” is to allow these questions to penetrate slowly, until they move from the mind into the heart.

The Church Fathers often speak of a Christian as an icon of Christ. An icon is not the reality itself, but it reveals the reality. If we are adopted in the Son, then what is true of Him must begin to be seen in us. His humility, patience, readiness to forgive, love for the Father’s will, and His compassion for sinners—all of these are to be reflected, however imperfectly, in the lives of those who are joined to Him. This is not simply a matter of “trying harder”. It is the outworking of the grace given to us. As we return again and again to prayer, the Holy Mysteries, the reading of the Bible, and to acts of charity, the life of Christ within us is nourished and strengthened. We begin, slowly, to resemble the One in whom we live.

It is helpful to linger in prayer over the image of adoption. There is a difference between a servant and a son. A servant may obey, but he does not share the intimacy of the household. A son is brought into the family’s inner life. He knows the father’s heart. He is entrusted with the inheritance. When we live as though we are only the Lord’s servants, we may obey Him, but we remain at a distance. We may fear His punishment and respect His commandments, yet we do not draw near with trust and love. When we remember that He has predestined us to adoption, we begin to pray differently. We approach Him not as slaves before a harsh master, but as children returning to a Father who awaits us with kindness. This is the very language of the Gospel.

At the same time, adoption does not eliminate reverence. To be a son or daughter of God is not to be casual or presumptuous. The Son Himself, our Lord Jesus Christ, shows His sonship above all in His obedience, in His reverent surrender to the Father’s will, even unto death on the Cross. If we are in the Son, our adoption will manifest itself in a like obedience. To live as an adopted child is to say, again and again, with Christ, “Not my will, but Thine be done.” This is the deepest expression of our freedom. When we conform our will to that of the Lord’s, we are not losing ourselves; we are finding our true identity in the Son.

The liturgical life of the Church continually draws us back to this mystery. In the Divine Liturgy, the priest prays on behalf of all, “Make us worthy to partake of Thy heavenly and awesome Mysteries of this sacred and spiritual Table with a pure conscience, for the remission of sins, for the forgiveness of transgressions, for communion of the Holy Spirit, for the inheritance of the Kingdom of Heaven, for boldness toward Thee, and not for judgement or condemnation.” Notice how the language mentions inheritance, Kingdom, boldness. This is the language of children, not slaves. The Liturgy is the place where our adoption is renewed and exercised. We come as those who have been called from eternity, and we stand before the Father in the Son, by the power of the Holy Spirit.

For personal meditation, it may be helpful to place oneself, quietly and consciously, “inside” the life of Christ. One might sit or kneel before an icon of the Saviour and say, very simply: “Lord Jesus Christ, place me within Thy life. Let my thoughts be shaped by Thy mind. Let my heart be formed by Thy Heart. Let my steps be guided by Thy obedience.” Then one can recall the events of the Gospel, for example, the Lord in the Jordan River, the Lord in the desert, the Lord teaching and healing, the Lord on the Cross, the Lord rising from the tomb, and the Lord ascending in glory. In stillness, one can say, interiorly, “By Baptism, Thou hast placed me in Thy death and Resurrection. By the Eucharist, Thou takest me up into Thy offering to the Father. Let this be true in me today, in what I say, in what I choose, in how I treat others.”

That short verse in Ephesians is also a word of hope for those who feel weak, broken, or far from God. The predestination of which Saint Paul speaks does not begin with our strength; it begins with God’s eternal love – His Sovereignty. Long before our sins, long before our failures, long before our anxieties, there was the good pleasure of His will that we should be His children in Christ. This does not excuse us from repentance. On the contrary, it gives us courage to repent. We know that we are turning back not to a God who is undecided about us, but to One who has already set His heart upon our salvation. When we fall, we can say, “Lord, Thou hast willed from eternity that I should be Thy child in Thy Son. Fulfil Thy purpose in me. Heal what I have wounded. Restore what I have wasted. Bring me once more into the full light of Thy household. Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me.”

This single verse from Ephesians unfolds an entire vision of what it means to live the Christian life. It shows us a God who, from all eternity, has destined us for sonship in Christ Jesus; a salvation that is entirely His initiative and yet honours the freedom He has given us; a life in which we are not simply adding Christ to our plans, but are taken into His own life, His own obedience, His own glory. If we take this seriously, it will change how we pray, how we see ourselves, and how we walk through the world as sons and daughters, adopted in the Son, living and moving and having our being in Him.

May God bless you +

Fr. Charles
30 November 2025