TL;DR: The distance many people feel between themselves and God is not because God has moved away. According to Ephesians 2:11-18, it is because we have built a wall through our own choices. The good news is that Jesus has torn that wall down through his death on the cross, bringing everyone who trusts him from the far side into God's presence as full citizens, with access to a peace deeper than anything circumstances can offer.
In AD 122, the Romans built Hadrian's Wall across northern Britain. Its purpose was to separate the "civilised" world from the barbarians to the north. The wall was a physical statement: on one side, you belong. On the other side, you do not. The wall defined who was in and who was out.
Ephesians 2:11-18 describes a different kind of wall. Not one built by Rome, and not one built by God. This wall is one we have constructed ourselves, stone by stone, through the accumulated choices of lives lived on our own terms. And the consequence is the same as Hadrian's Wall: on one side, inside with God, with access to all the goodness and peace and fullness that comes with that. On the other side, outside, cut off, carrying everything alone.
Paul's extraordinary announcement in this passage is that Jesus has come to tear this wall down. Not to lower it or offer some people a gate through it, but to demolish it entirely. And what becomes available on the other side is described in verse 14 with one of the most freighted words in the entire Bible: peace.
At our church in Manchester, we have been working through Paul's letter to the Ephesians, and this passage has proven to be one of the most personal and most searching. It asks a simple question of everyone who reads it: which side of the wall are you on?
Life on the Far Side of the Wall
Paul begins this section by asking his readers to remember what life was like before. "Remember that at that time," he says in verse 11. He wants them to hold in their minds the contrast between what they were and what they now are, because without that contrast, the gift becomes invisible.
He describes life on the far side in a series of overlapping phrases, each one adding another dimension to the picture. You were separate from Christ. You were foreigners. You were strangers. You were without hope. You were without God in the world.
Separate, Foreign, Without Hope
These words have a cumulative weight. Separate from Christ means cut off from the one through whom, according to the rest of the New Testament, all things were made and in whom all things hold together. It means cut off from the source of joy, peace, and love that the passage promises. It means cut off from the one who offers hope when it seems all hope is gone.
Foreigners and strangers: Paul uses the language of citizenship throughout this letter, and here he places us firmly outside the gates. A foreigner in another country does not have access to the full rights and protections of a citizen. They cannot claim the country's promises for their own. They are visitors at best, and their status is always conditional.
Without hope: to live without the settled knowledge that God is in control, that he is working all things towards a good ending, and that he is present in the darkest moments of your life, is to walk through life carrying everything alone. Every uncertainty is your uncertainty. Every loss is final. Every fear has nothing to answer it. Life without hope is not merely difficult; it is exhausting in a way that is hard to describe from the outside, but immediately recognisable to anyone who has lived it.
The word Paul uses at the end of verse 12 for "without God" is the Greek word atheos. We get our word atheist from it. Paul is not making a theological point about belief. He is describing a lived reality: a life functionally conducted without reference to God, whatever someone might or might not believe in the abstract. And that kind of life, however comfortable or successful it looks from the outside, is life on the wrong side of the wall.
The feeling of fragmentation that many people carry, the sense of being pulled in too many directions without a stable centre, often has its roots here. This article on why life can feel so fragmented explores that experience in more depth, and what the Bible says about where wholeness actually comes from.
The Kingdom Without the King
There is a particular observation worth pausing on in the sermon this post is drawn from. Much of what is good about British culture has roots in Christianity. The earliest hospitals grew out of monasteries. The arguments that ended the slave trade were Biblical arguments. The impulse to care for the poor, the vulnerable, and the marginalised was formed over centuries by the teaching and practice of the church. We live in a society that has benefited enormously from the fruit of Christian faith.
But a fruit detached from its tree has a shelf life. A vase of cut flowers is beautiful, but it is dying from the moment it is cut. The kingdom without the King is not alive. It is possible to enjoy the benefits of a Christian-shaped culture while declining to acknowledge the source of those benefits, but Paul's framework suggests that this situation is not stable. When you cut the root from the tree, eventually the tree dies.
This is not a political argument. It is a spiritual one. The goodness that we want from life, the peace, the belonging, the hope, is not generated by the world on its own. It is found on the other side of the wall, in God himself.
But Now: Brought Near
Verse 13 opens with the same structure as the great pivot in the previous passage: "But now." Two small words. Everything changes.
"But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far away have been brought near." Far away, on the wrong side of the wall, doing your own thing, and Jesus has come and gathered you in. Not invited you to make your way over. Come to you, wherever you were, and brought you near himself.
And this movement is not an ebb and flow. Paul does not say you have been brought near and may sometimes drift back. He says you have been brought near. It is a settled position. Jesus is always near, never far away, to those who are in him.
He Is Our Peace
Verse 14 makes a claim that goes well beyond what we usually mean when we use the word peace. "He himself is our peace." Not he gives us peace, as though peace were a commodity he distributes. He is our peace. Peace is a property of who Jesus is, and when we are near to him, that peace comes with the relationship.
The Hebrew concept that sits behind the Greek word for peace here is shalom. It is a rich and capacious word that means far more than the absence of conflict. Shalom is the presence of fullness: the state of things being as they ought to be, relationships restored, nothing missing, nothing broken. It is the word used to describe the way God created the world before anything went wrong. And it is the word Paul reaches for to describe what becomes available when the wall between us and God comes down.
This matters enormously for how we understand peace in our own lives. Peace, in the biblical sense, is not something you manufacture through good circumstances, the right therapy, or sufficient financial security. It is a person. Which means it cannot be taken from you by a change in circumstances. The person you are near to does not change based on what happens around you.
The longing to belong, to be genuinely known and genuinely welcomed rather than merely tolerated, is one of the deepest human hungers. When the wall comes down and we are brought near to God, that longing finds what it was always reaching for. This piece on how the longing to belong can be fulfilled explores what Ephesians says about being adopted into God's family, which is the deeper context for what Paul is describing here.
From Foreigners to Family
What is the status of someone who has been brought near? Verse 19 (just beyond our main passage) makes it explicit: no longer foreigners and strangers, but fellow citizens with God's people and members of his household. The language shifts from political to familial. Citizens, yes. But more than that: family.
Family get access to things that visitors and even citizens do not. Paul says we are included in all of God's promises. Everything God has committed to doing for his people, he has committed to doing for you. He has promised presence in every moment, including the moments of greatest vulnerability. He has promised to always provide what is needed. He has promised that nothing will separate you from his love. These are not aspirational statements. They are the terms of the relationship for everyone who has been brought near.
How Jesus Did It
There is an obvious question: if we built the wall through our choices, how did Jesus tear it down?
Paul is precise. Verse 13 says we have been brought near "through the blood of Christ." Verse 16 says we have been reconciled to God "through the cross." The mechanism is not vague spiritual goodwill or a general amnesty. It is the cross.
Reconciliation Through the Cross
To reconcile is to restore a relationship that has broken down. You cannot reconcile at a distance. It requires that someone moves towards the other, that what caused the rupture is dealt with, and that the relationship is put back together. Paul says the cross is how God accomplishes all of this.
The wall we built was not merely a barrier; it was an expression of hostility. Verse 14 calls it "the dividing wall of hostility." And verse 16 says that through the cross, Jesus "put to death their hostility." The thing in us that keeps building the wall, that keeps choosing our own way over God's, that keeps insisting on our own sovereignty: Jesus put it to death in himself.
The image from Matthew's Gospel captures this vividly. At the moment Jesus died on the cross, the thick curtain in the Jerusalem temple that separated the Most Holy Place from everything else was torn from top to bottom. This curtain was not symbolic decoration. It was a serious physical barrier, designed to keep human beings from the presence of God, because human beings were not holy enough to survive that proximity. Only the High Priest, once a year, after elaborate preparation, could enter. And even he entered on behalf of everyone else.
When that curtain tore, it tore from the top. Not from the bottom, where a human hand might have reached. From the top, as God himself removed the barrier. The access that had been restricted to one person, once a year, was flung open to everyone, always.
If you want to understand more about what the cross actually accomplished and why grace cannot be earned, this companion piece on what it means to be saved by grace goes into the mechanics of that in depth.
A Radically Inclusive Invitation
Paul's original context involves two specific groups: Jewish people, who had access to God's covenant and promises, and Gentiles, everyone else, who did not. His point is that the cross has dissolved that distinction. There is now one new humanity, one new way of being human together, open to everyone on exactly the same terms.
The invitation is genuinely, radically inclusive. Whatever your background, your history, your religious upbringing or lack of it, the wall has been torn down. It does not matter where you have been or what you have done. The access is open. Rich or poor, religious or irreligious, someone who has spent their whole life curious about God or someone who has spent their whole life running from him: the invitation is the same.
At the same time, Paul is honest about what accepting the invitation involves. Coming near to God means the things that kept us far from God become increasingly incompatible with who we are now. The exclusive nature of the Christian life is not a list of rules but a direction: we become increasingly atheists to the false gods that promised us things they could never deliver, and increasingly citizens of a kingdom where the promises are real and the King keeps them all.
The Wall We Keep Rebuilding
Here is where the passage becomes uncomfortable for those who are already Christians.
Paul's question, implicit throughout this section, is whether believers are quietly rebuilding the very wall that Christ has torn down. Not dramatically. Not consciously. Stone by stone, in the small choices of an ordinary life.
It could look like someone who says all the right things, reads the Bible, shows up on Sunday, and yet treats their schedule as entirely their own, their money as primarily theirs, their life as essentially a private project with God given a supporting role. That is, Paul's logic suggests, incompatible with citizenship in God's kingdom. Not because these are bad people, but because they are trying to hold something back from a King who has given everything.
It can also look like the burnout and anxiety that comes from leading people (whether as a parent, a manager, or a church leader) when your sense of wellbeing is determined by the results. If the children's behaviour controls your emotions, if the slow progress of the work you care about sets you on edge, if you need things to go well in order to be at peace, the sermon this post is drawn from suggests a gentle but direct diagnosis: your eyes are set too far down. Your citizenship has slipped from heaven to earth. And the only way to lead anyone else well is to lead from the security of knowing where you actually belong.
The question the passage closes with is worth sitting with: is there peace or chaos in your heart? Not because peace is a barometer of spiritual performance, but because peace, Paul says, is what comes with the relationship. If there is chronic chaos, it may be a sign that something in the wall is going back up.
What This Means for Life in Manchester
None of this is abstract theology. It is the most practical thing imaginable.
A person who knows they are a citizen of God's kingdom, who knows the wall is down and they have been brought near, can take themselves lightly. They can afford to be generous because God has them. They can afford to ask for help because their worth does not depend on having everything together. They can afford to be patient with difficult people because they are not carrying the full weight of outcomes on their own. They can rest, even when things are not resolved, because the King who makes things new is at work.
If you would like to explore what it looks like to live from that kind of settled peace in the context of a community that is taking it seriously, you are very welcome to join us at our church in Manchester. We meet at Oswald Road Primary School, M21 9DW, every Sunday at 10am.
FAQ
How does the Bible say we can find peace with God?
According to Ephesians 2:13-16, peace with God comes through the cross of Jesus Christ. We are brought near to God "through the blood of Christ," and reconciled to God "through the cross." This is not something we achieve through effort or spiritual practice. It is what Jesus accomplished by dying in our place, dealing with the hostility and the barrier that our choices had created, and opening full access to God's presence for everyone who trusts in him.
What does Ephesians 2:14 mean when it says "he himself is our peace"?
It means that peace with God is not a feeling or a state that we generate for ourselves. It is a property of the relationship with Jesus. When we are near to him, his peace comes with that closeness. The Hebrew concept behind the word is shalom: not just the absence of conflict but the presence of fullness, of things being as they ought to be. This kind of peace is not dependent on circumstances, because its source is a person who does not change.
What is shalom and why does it matter?
Shalom is a Hebrew word that describes a state of complete wellbeing: peace, wholeness, nothing missing, nothing broken, relationships restored. It is the word used to describe the world as God created it before anything went wrong. When Paul says Jesus is our peace, the concept of shalom is in the background. It suggests that what Jesus offers is not a partial or temporary relief from the pressures of life but a restoration of what we were made for.
What does it mean to be "far from God" and is it permanent?
Ephesians 2:12-13 describes being "far away" from God as living without hope, without access to his promises, and functionally without God, even if you believe in his existence in theory. It is the condition Paul says all of us begin in. But the passage is emphatic that it is not permanent. Verse 13 says "but now you have been brought near." The movement from far to near is something Jesus has done, and it is available to anyone who trusts in him.
If Jesus has torn the wall down, why do I still feel distant from God?
This is a real and common experience, and it is worth taking seriously. Ephesians 2 suggests two possibilities. The first is that someone has not yet trusted in Jesus and the wall is genuinely still there. The second is that someone who is a Christian is quietly rebuilding the wall in certain areas of life, holding something back from God and finding that it creates distance. The sermon this passage is drawn from suggests checking your diary and your bank account: what you organise your life around tells you where your actual centre of gravity is. Where something other than God sits at the centre, the sense of his peace tends to diminish.
Is the Christian gospel really for everyone, or just certain kinds of people?
Paul's argument in Ephesians 2:11-18 is explicitly that the cross demolished the distinction between those who had access to God and those who did not. He calls the result "one new humanity." The invitation is radically inclusive: whatever your background, history, or starting point, the wall is down and the access is open. What changes when you accept the invitation is not your background but your direction: you increasingly move away from the things that kept you far from God and towards the one who has been waiting for you.
Where can I find out more and meet others exploring these questions?
You are welcome to come along to our church in Manchester any Sunday morning at 10am, at Oswald Road Primary School, M21 9DW. If you want to explore the basics of the Christian faith in a more informal setting first, we also run an Alpha course in Chorlton. Details at redeemermcr.com/alpha. And if you have never been to a church before and want to know what to expect, this article on what to expect when attending a church in Manchester should help.