Every Spiritual Blessing: Chosen, Adopted, to the Praise of Grace – Sermon Summary

Key Text: Hebrews 10:24-25; 1 Corinthians 12:12-27; Ephesians 1:22-23, 5:23-30; Matthew 18:15-20; Acts 2:41-47 (among others) | Why Church Membership Matters | Preparing for Covenant Community

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places…”

Blessed be..

As I preached this past Lord’s Day, we stepped into the heart of Paul’s opening doxology in Ephesians 1:3–6, and it set my own soul ablaze all over again. What begins as a greeting to the saints quickly explodes into praise directed straight at God: “Blessed be…”—eulogētos, supremely worthy of every word of commendation, every raised voice, every bowed knee. This isn’t a polite suggestion or a nice sentiment to ponder; it’s the imperative duty of every redeemed creature, especially us who have tasted His grace.

I reminded us of Psalm 103—“Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless His holy name!”—and of Jacob on his deathbed, calling Ephraim and Manasseh close, kissing them, laying hands on their heads, and pronouncing covenant blessing in the name of the God who shepherded him and redeemed him from all evil (Genesis 48). That’s our pattern: blessing is intimate, active, embodied. Hands laid, words spoken aloud, Gospel promises declared over children, spouses, weary brothers and sisters, and the spiritually famished around us.

Too often, we offer God half-hearted hymns on Sunday then rush to our own pleasures; we pray with minds wandering while lips move; we grumble at Houghton’s long winters more than we glorify the God who chose us before the stars were kindled. The text calls us higher: worship with everything—voice raised, hands lifted, bodies engaged.

And why? Because the foundation is staggering. God chose us in Christ before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before Him. Not because of foreseen merit or future performance—He knew every sin we would commit, every rebellion, every wound we’d inflict—but in sovereign, electing love. In love He predestined us for adoption as sons and daughters through Jesus Christ, according to the good pleasure of His will. We who were orphans, aliens, children of wrath are now full heirs in the household of God, crying “Abba, Father!”—accepted in the Beloved. All of it—every spiritual blessing (regeneration, justification, sanctification, glorification; not 90%, not half—100%)—converges on this one supreme purpose: to the praise of His glorious grace.

Church family, in this northern outpost where winters isolate and spiritual famine is real—broken homes, unspoken words of pride and love, souls trudging through snow and unbelief—the antidote is right here in our hands. Stop hoarding these blessings. Repent of sluggish praise and miserly grace. Bless your children tonight: lay hands on their heads, speak adoption and holiness over them in the name of the Father, Son, and Spirit. Embrace the weary; hug the hurting; declare election and belonging over the abandoned. Break polite distance. The world is starving for the tangible touch of grace through God’s people. Live as confident sons and daughters, not cringing servants. Run to the Father boldly when you stumble. Forgive freely, love extravagantly, serve without grumbling—because you are chosen, adopted, delighted in. Let Christ the King Church be known in the Keweenaw as a people who cannot stop blessing God—because we have been so overwhelmingly blessed in Christ—and who pour that same lavish grace out on one another and on the lost, all to the praise of His glorious grace in the Beloved.