Access to God

Ephesians 2:18—For through him [i.e., Christ] we both have access by one Spirit unto the Father—we see an astounding result of the peace God has established through Christ. The Greek word behind access (prosagoge) and is found only in two other places (Eph. 3:12; Rom. 5:2). It literally means “to open a way of access.” A similar word was used in ancient times to describe a person who gave someone else admittance to see the King. Therefore, our text declares that we actually have no “right” to come before God but rather have been granted the “privilege” of doing so knowing we will be welcome. There is a word in French that exactly translates this word—entree, meaning “admission or admittance.” This is the picture in our text; we have been granted “admittance” into the Father’s Presence.” We could also translate the word as “introduction;” we have been properly introduced to the Father by the Word of Christ.

We emphasize this truth for an important reason. Many believers have the mistaken idea that they have a right to come before God. Some theologians even teach that Christ’s blood now gives us this right. This is dreadfully wrong! We do not have a right to come before God; how arrogant to think that we do! Rather, we have been granted the privilege to come before the God of the universe. Oh, how often we take prayer for granted and rush into God’s presence thinking we have a right to be there, demanding this, that, and the other thing. Dear Christian, may we forever cease! May we see that we have no right but a gracious privilege. May we never again rush before Him, but rather may we quietly and humbly come before His throne.

I read one story that beautifully illustrates how we have access to the Father. One day a little boy named Willie stood wistfully at the gates of Buckingham Palace. He longed to go in and see the king. Between him and the king, however, were iron gates, rigid protocol, armed soldiers, and watchful police. What he wanted was quite out of the question. A policeman who was ordering the lad to leave suddenly stiffened and sprang to attention as a well-dressed, confident man approached. A brusque nod from the man and the policeman unlocked the gates and stood aside. “Come with me, sonny,” said the man, taking the little boy’s hand. “We’re going in to see the king.” Into the palace they went. Inside were forty housemaids, fifty footmen (including one man who did nothing but wind clocks all day), and six hundred rooms. Willie and the man walked on and on—to the north wing, up stairs, along endless passages, to the king’s corridor on the main floor, and into the master suite. (They were a quarter of a mile away from the kitchens!) The man seemed to know the way and chatted about the rooms they passed: the magnificent ballroom that contained two majestic thrones on a raised dais; the stamp rooms that housed the world’s most valuable collection; the Belgian suite with its forty-four rooms for the use of state visitors; the royal wardrobe; the music room; the dining room with a table as large as a skating rink; the dazzling green drawing room. Finally they arrived in the king’s presence, and the man spoke. “Hello, Father. Here’s a little boy who wants to meet you. Meet my friend Willie. Willie, this is the king.” The little boy had taken the hand of Edward, Prince of Wales, the king’s son. Through him, Willie gained access to the king. We too have taken the hand—the nail-printed hand—of the King’s Son, the Prince of Peace. Through Him and Him alone, Jews and Gentiles alike have access by one Spirit to the Father.