All the Rights and Benefits Thereof (Jan. 4, 2026) Eph. 1.3-14

The year 1959 was a banner year for the movies. That year saw the release of such classics as Anatomy of a Murder, Diary of Anne Frank, The Nun’s Story, Room at the Top, North by Northwest, Some Like it Hot and Rio Bravo (the first four were all nominees for best picture while the last three have become legendary classics). But there was one picture that overshadowed (and still does) them all: Ben-Hur. This epic film is of a man, Judah Ben-Hur, who was in a privileged position, betrayed by a friend, sent to be a slave in a Roman galley ship and then finds himself back in a privileged position, won a record 11 Academy awards ( a record shared only with Titanic (1997) and Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2004)) and still remains one of the best movies of all time (just watch the chariot race). Judah’s return to a privileged position comes from his first being a slave in the Roman Empire’s galley ships.

As a slave, Judah is treated harshly, but stomachs it with a smoldering, stoic bearing (I believe this is partly because the part is played by Charlton Heston). As time goes on, he seems to be resigned that this is to be his lot in life. Then, the galley on which he is rowing becomes one of many in a huge, pitched sea battle. Judah, of course, gets free, frees the other slaves, and charges to the main deck where the fight is raging. There he does something either very foolish or very lucky: he saves the life of the consul who is in command of the fleet (for those who do not know, a consul was a top Roman official, just below the emperor. In other words, a very rich, very powerful man). When the consul and Judah are later picked up from the sea by a Roman naval vessel, the consul will not have him put back in the galleys but raises him in status to be equal with him and insists that he be treated as such. As time goes on, they make their way to Rome, where Judah becomes a trusted companion to the consul. Finally, one night at a party at the consul’s villa, the consul proclaims that the formalities of adoption have taken place and that Judah Ben-Hur is now his son. With this adoption Judah takes the place of the dead natural son and is to be the bearer of the name of the family, Arrius, and he is the heir of all the property of the consul. He has become a powerful man indeed, for with the elevation of being the heir of the consul, he takes on all the rights, privileges and benefits thereof this family in the Roman Empire. There might have been some who would sniff at this elevation, but they knew that this was legal and that for all intents and purposes, this man was now the one who would be the power in the family and the one with whom they would have to coexist from here on out. In one scene after his adoption, the power of the name is shown as Judah returns to Judea and is given proper deference by even those who knew him before his adoption. They know him now not as Judah Ben-Hur, but as Arrius the Younger, son and heir of the consul of Rome.

This story of a man who is adopted by a Roman who elevates him to power and privilege is similar to what has happened to us. In verse 5 of Ephesians 1, we are told that we have been, “… destined…for adoption as his children through Jesus Christ, according to the good pleasure of his will.”[1]Because we have been called, or elected/chosen, by God to be children of God, we have the same rights, privileges and inheritance as Jesus Christ, the Son of God. We are given the grace of God that brings new life to us that can never be taken away. And there is a mammoth difference between adoption on the terms seen in Ben-Hur and the adoption on the terms of God: in the movie, it took place because of what one man did and could do for another man, while those who are called to be children of God have nothing to give to God. They are called to be the children of God when they could/can offer nothing and could/can do nothing of any consequence for God.

This strikes us as odd in our society. We have a transaction mentality: you scratch my back, I scratch yours; you get me a gift, I am now obligated to buy one for you; you buy my kid’s school fundraiser products, well, I have to buy some from yours. The cycle is ongoing and is sometimes exhausting. And so, when we speak of the grace of God who lavishes us with the blessings and riches of grace while we were still in sin and we could do nothing to erase our trespasses/sins, we find it kind of sticks in our throats a bit and we wonder,  “What’s the catch?” Surely there must be something that is expected of us. Something that we can do or pay. Something that would make us appear better and more worthy. Something that would make God look at us and see that we are worthy of what God offers. But there is nothing expected of us, nothing that we can say, nothing that we can buy, nothing that we can pay or do. The debt is so great that we could never even imagine repaying it. With that in mind, we realize that God is doing something for us that we can and never could do on our own: calling us to be God’s children, siblings of Jesus Christ, who are to receive the same inheritance, the same blessings, the same gifts as the Son of God.

In Ben-Hur the scene where he reveals himself to those who betrayed him is powerful. There are no threats, no “I’ll bring on you what you brought on me” moment, no moment of panic as we are accustomed to seeing in our movies today. No, there is some puzzlement at the beginning of the scene as a gift is received from Arrius the Younger and the one receiving it does not know this person. When Judah enters the room, they say his name as they knew it before, Judah, to which he replies, “No. I am no longer that man. I am Arrius.” Then he breathes on a signet ring on his finger and presses it to wax. The seal that is left on the wax is the seal of the house to which he now belongs, stating that he is a full member of that house and is entitled to all the rights, benefits and privileges that would be given to those who were natural born in the house. We too, bear a seal that is given to us by God stating that we are the children of God. Ephesians 1.13-14 says, “In him you also, when you had heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and had believed in him, were marked with the seal of the promised Holy Spirit; 14 this is the pledge of our inheritance toward redemption as God’s own people, to the praise of his glory.”[2] In this regard we are like the movie: Judah, when proclaimed the heir, states that it is an honor to have a new family, a new father and that as he wears the ring that proclaims who he is now, a son of the consul of Rome, one of the leading houses of the Empire, he will do whatever is needed to bring honor to the name that he now bears.

So, we are to do what anyone who is forgiven, adopted and made a child of God will do: give honor and praise to the one who bestowed these blessings on us. We work to make sure that our lives are “holy and blameless before” God. We strive to make sure that all those who see us will know that we “…might live for the praise of his glory”[3] In all that we do, we are to bear the likeness of the one who chose us and who made us heirs with the Son. After all, we now have all the rights and benefits, and privileges thereof. Should we act like heirs of the kingdom? Or will we continue in our capitalistic, transaction mindset that says that we MUST do something for God to love us? The choice is there and the answer is an easy one. Take what is given to us, be free to be the heirs that God’ s grace enables us to be, and show our gratitude by doing everything that is possible to bring glory to God. Thanks be to God. Amen.

[1] New Revised Standard Version: Updated Edition. Friendship Press, 2021. Print.

[2] New Revised Standard Version: Updated Edition. Friendship Press, 2021. Print.

[3] New Revised Standard Version: Updated Edition. Friendship Press, 2021. Print.