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Pastor Scott Wiens continued our In Christ series with a message titled The Power of Unity, opening Ephesians 1:9-12 to show that the mystery of God’s will—once hidden and now revealed in Christ—is not merely about individual salvation, but about God creating a unified people. Scott walked slowly through Paul’s words, pointing out that “mystery” in Paul’s vocabulary isn’t spooky or unknowable. In Romans 16:25, Paul links “the revelation of the mystery” to the gospel that had been kept secret for long ages but is now made known in Jesus. God’s redemptive plan was never tentative. “According to his purpose,” Scott emphasized, means God’s will was settled from the start; the mission of the Son was a done deal before Jesus ever faced the wilderness, the cross, or the grave.

With verse 10, Scott highlighted the phrase that anchors the entire message: God’s plan “for the fullness of time” was “to unite all things in Christ, things in heaven and things on earth.” He connected this “fullness of time” to Galatians 4:4—when God sent forth his Son—framing the birth, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus as the decisive moment in history. The scope of Christ’s work is sweeping. Sin separated humanity from God beginning with Adam, and we’ve all lived with that fallout. But the Father foreordained that His Son would live the perfect life we couldn’t, die the atoning death we needed, and rise again so that we could be reconciled to God. Scott said we could call it a reunion as much as a union: in Christ, what was separated is brought back together.

Scott then noted that Paul’s grammar in Ephesians is not incidental. From the very first chapter, Paul laces the letter with collective pronouns—“we,” “us,” “our”—because God’s aim in redemption is a people, a body, a church. We are individually in Christ, yes, but we are also collectively in Christ. Ephesians does not privilege a private, solitary spirituality; it assumes a living, breathing fellowship. There is, as Scott said, “a distinct expectation from Scripture that those who are redeemed by Christ would be a collective, unified group of people identified as the church.”

This collective nature of the Christian life challenges a common modern stance that Scott addressed head-on: the claim “I’m a Christian, but I don’t need the church.” He spoke with pastoral realism about church hurt—so common that nearly every hand in the room could go up if asked. At times there are wolves who slip into the flock; more often, though, it’s just the sins of imperfect people, the kind we all carry. Scott warned how easily the enemy twists this reality: we fixate on others’ failures while staying blind to our own, nursing offenses and placing unrealistic expectations on one another. The result is isolation, which is precisely where the enemy wants us. “If you find a perfect church, don’t go,” he quipped, “because you’ll make it imperfect.” The point landed with humor and gravity: the church’s imperfection is not a reason to abandon it, but a reason we need grace and patience within it.

To separate Christ from His church, Scott said, is like saying, “I love being married but don’t want to be with my spouse.” It’s a contradiction. Jesus made our love for one another—not our private devotional life or doctrinal precision—the visible marker of discipleship. “By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another,” He said in John 13:35. And Paul echoes the same reality in Romans 12:5: “Though many, we are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another.” That last phrase is especially striking. Believers are not merely near one another; we belong to one another. That is the unity Christ died to create.

As Scott walked through Ephesians 1:11-12, he touched on predestination, acknowledging its depth and the debates surrounding it, then brought it down to the pastoral heart of the passage: if you hear and receive the gospel, it is because the Father has drawn you (John 6:44). You haven’t earned your inheritance; you’ve received it as an adopted son or daughter. That adoption is not only a status before God but a placement in a family, the church. Paul’s “we who were the first to hope in Christ” likely refers to Jewish believers, Scott noted, but the larger aim is clear: whoever hopes in Christ does so “to the praise of his glory.” And God gets glory when the redeemed live as the unified people He intended.

From there, Scott unfolded three reasons why God designed us to live in unity with the church: true fellowship, accountability, and spiritual growth.

True fellowship is not coffee-hour chatter or a generic friendliness. It is life shared in humility, gentleness, and patience, “bearing with one another in love” and eager to maintain “the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace” (Ephesians 4:1-3). Scott described what this looks like: a people who celebrate and grieve together, who serve and give, learn and encourage. In a healthy body, needs are seen and met, not because a few leaders are heroic, but because the church is alive with the love and compassion of Christ. Unity is not uniformity and it’s not naïveté. It is a Spirit-forged bond where Christ’s love is practiced in the ordinary rhythms of life.

Accountability, Scott said, is often perceived negatively in a culture that prizes autonomy, but in the church it is actually freedom for the believer. He warned how secrecy becomes a prison: secrets feed on shame and the enemy’s whisper that confession will mean rejection. But Scripture calls us to tell the truth to one another (Ephesians 4:25), to confess our sins and pray for one another “that you may be healed” (James 5:16), and promises mercy to those who confess and forsake their sins (Proverbs 28:13). Scott offered simple counsel. Confess honestly to a trusted brother or sister. Ask for help and ongoing follow-up. Invite someone to ask you hard questions. Not because we crave control, but because we cherish freedom. Isolation makes us easy prey; shared light disarms the darkness. Accountability within a trusted fellowship turns the lock on the cell door shame built, and many have watched the Lord usher them into freedom through the love and prayers of the body.

Finally, spiritual growth. Scott was candid about his own season of stepping back from the church after being hurt and how his growth stalled. He didn’t begin to flourish again until he planted himself back in the body, walking alongside brothers he learned to trust and love. Ephesians 3:14-19 gives the vision: God strengthens us to comprehend the vast dimensions of Christ’s love “with all the saints”—not apart from them. Teaching, prayer, small groups, serving, and simply rubbing shoulders with other believers all become means of grace. Some growth, in fact, requires proximity: you can’t learn forgiveness without being sinned against, or patience without being tested, or gentleness without encountering the rough edges of real people. This is how God shapes us. Those who drift from the body often experience stagnation and become vulnerable to spiritual attack; those who stay rooted among God’s people are nourished and guarded.

Threaded through the message was Scott’s call to see the urgency of unity as the Day draws near. He closed with Hebrews 10:19-25, where the writer invites us to draw near to God with confidence because of Christ, to hold fast without wavering, and to consider how to stir one another to love and good works—not neglecting to meet together, but encouraging one another, “and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.” You cannot stir or be stirred at a distance. You can’t encourage or be encouraged in isolation. The darker the world grows, the more we need one another.

Scott’s pastoral tone never scolded; it shepherded. He made space for real wounds and acknowledged the church’s imperfections without diminishing the beauty of what Jesus created. The church is not a club we attend, nor an optional add-on to a private faith; it is the family where the redeemed live out the reconciling power of the gospel. Christ did not shed His blood to produce a scatter of disconnected individuals. He died and rose to make one new humanity, a single body filled with many members who belong to one another and to Him.

He punctuated that vision with faces and names, honoring saints in the congregation who, despite the limitations of age or hardship, keep showing up—not to earn anything, but because they love the people Jesus has given them. That’s the heart of unity: not spectacle, not perfection, but a steady, grace-soaked devotion to Christ and His people. In Christ, God has united what sin had separated—God to man, and man to man. To love Him is to love His body, the imperfect, redeemed people through whom He is making His wisdom and mercy visible to a watching world.