Eph 4:29–32 — Do Not Grieve the Spirit

In Ephesians 4:29-32 Paul carefully transitions to verse 29 by using two key terms that verbally link back to verse 28: good and need. In verse 28, the good is to be produced by one’s hands, so as to share with those in any economic need. In verse 29, the good is to be produced by one’s mouth, so as to build up others according to their spiritual need. In both commands the well-being of our fellow Christians is the goal for which we are to strive. We are to produce what is good, both with our hands and our mouths, in order to make a positive contribution to the church.

Verse 29 forbids harmful speech of any kind, whether it be abusive language, vulgarity, slander or contemptuous talk. When we allow our tongues to utter such harmful speech, we not only defile our ourselves but we plant seeds that are destructive of the unity of the body. Thus, rather than tearing down one another, we must build one another up. Speech is a wonderful gift of the Creator. Let us use it for good, for constructive purposes, for the edification of the body and the promotion of our spiritual growth in Christ both as individuals and corporately as a body.

Verse 30: “Do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, by whom you were sealed for the day of redemption.”

This verse harks back to verse 27, which speaks of the fact that through unresolved anger in the body, the devil is given a foothold in the midst of the congregation. When we nurse our anger, and refuse to be reconciled to our brother, we are giving the devil a foothold within the community, an opportunity to sow further division and thus to destroy the unity of the Spirit.

Here in verse 30, we see the other side of the coin. If the devil has gained a foothold in our midst, then the Spirit has been grieved. The possibility of grieving the Spirit that Paul has in view in this context is a corporate problem: when our life in the body is filled with speaking lies to one another, with brothers who are unreconciled to one another, with uncontrolled outbursts of selfish anger, with unedifying words, etc. - that is when the Spirit who dwells in our midst is grieved.

The idea that the Spirit of God dwells in the midst of the covenant community is not a new doctrinal idea found only in the New Testament. It goes back to the experience of Israel in the wilderness. God’s Spirit was present in the midst of the redeemed covenant community in the form of the pillar of cloud and fire, the Glory-Cloud that symbolically and sacramentally represented the very presence of God himself with his people. Moses pleaded with God: “If your presence does not go with us, do not lead us up from here” (Exod. 33:15). But the Lord had promised, “My presence shall go with you, and I will give you rest” (v. 14). The Spirit who dwelled in the midst of Israel was a sign of God’s own presence with them, to lead them through the long wilderness journey into the promised land.

In the new covenant age, Jesus has departed to the right hand of God, but he has not left us orphans. He has sent the Comforter, the Holy Spirit of promise. The Spirit is personally distinct from Christ, but yet so integrally connected to him, that the presence of the Comforter is the presence of Christ himself. Jesus said to his disciples, “Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”

Notice that this is a corporate promise. It is true that all Christians as individuals enjoy the Spirit’s dwelling in their hearts as an unforfeitable possession. But we want to zero in on the corporate dimension of this promise. We do not enjoy the fullness of the Spirit merely as individuals, but only as we are united together in the fellowship of the church. It is as we corporately join to praise and glorify God together, to confess our faith together, to hear the gospel of Jesus Christ proclaimed together, to partake of the sacraments together, that we experience the rich blessing of God’s Spirit among us.

Now what does it mean, specifically, to “grieve” the Holy Spirit? Clearly for those who belong to Christ it cannot mean that the Spirit leaves the believer. It is impossible for the Spirit, once given, to be removed from those in whom he dwells. This is made clear in the very same verse: “Do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, by whom you were sealed for the day of redemption.” The Spirit who can be grieved is the selfsame Spirit by whom we have been sealed with an irrevocable stamp, guaranteeing our ultimate entrance into the land of promise, our eternal inheritance in heaven. Therefore, it is clear that whatever it means to grieve the Spirit, it cannot mean the loss of our salvation.

Nevertheless, when we continue in the kinds of sins that Paul warns against in this context, especially the sins of the tongue which tear down and wound our brothers, our enjoyment of the Spirit’s gracious presence is temporarily withdrawn.

Charles Hodge puts it this way: “Though he will not finally withdraw from those in whom he dwells, yet, when grieved, he withholds the manifestations of his presence.”

The Westminster Confession of Faith, chapter 17, on the perseverance of the saints says that those “whom God has accepted in his Beloved, effectually called, and sanctified by his Spirit, can neither totally nor finally fall away from the state of grace.” However, the Confession goes on to point out that God’s people may fall into grievous sins. As a result, “they incur God’s displeasure, and grieve his Holy Spirit,” and may “be deprived of some measure of their graces and comforts.”

It is not that the Spirit departs, but from the perspective of our experience it feels as if he is not actively present in his former manner. His blessing in our prayer life, his power to make us more holy, his assurance that we are the sons of God - these things begin to fade. The Spirit is not gone, but he seems distant, just as the brightness of the sun can be obscured for many days by an overcast sky.

The same thing can occur on a corporate level. A congregation or a denomination can fall into corporate sin for a time, so that Spirit’s vital presence in the corporate life of the church is no longer felt. If the sins of bitterness and anger and division and fighting are allowed to go on unchecked and unrepented of, how can God’s Holy Spirit continue to dwell among us in the same joy and assurance and power, as if nothing were wrong? Is not the Spirit grieved at our selfish, fleshly behavior? Is not Spirit like a tender flower, choked by the overgrown weeds of our carnal attitudes and petty jealousies?

Brothers and sisters, I hesitate to say it, but I fear that the Orthodox Presbyterian Church is becoming increasingly in danger of grieving the Spirit by our divisiveness, strife, and lack of Christian kindness. You as a congregation may be somewhat shielded from these denominational sins, but I must report with a heavy heart that Presbytery meetings and General Assemblies are less and less edifying and more and more full of bitterness, anger, clamor, fighting, and slander. The spirit of camaraderie, of brothers in Christ meeting together to do the work of the church, to lift one another up in prayer, to serve Christ together in the bonds of the gospel - these things, which are the chief benefits of the Presbyterian system of government, are rarely seen and experienced in our denomination. Is it possible that the Spirit is grieved with the OPC and has in fact begun to withdraw his blessing and comfort, his assurance and light, his fellowship and love from us?

Paul’s warning against allowing these corporate sins of anger and bitterness and fighting and harmful speech is heightened all the more by the fact that by these sins we are grieving the very Spirit who has sealed us unto the day of redemption.

The day of redemption does not refer to the day of our conversion. Nor does it refer to the day when our redemption was accomplished by the incarnate Son of God in his death and resurrection. All of these things are certainly involved, but the precise focus here is a future day of redemption that has not yet arrived. “Sealed for, sealed unto the day of redemption.” Thus, the day of redemption here refers to the physical return our Lord Jesus in the clouds of heaven, when he will come to redeem us, to deliver us, to rescue us from this present evil age. Although that deliverance, that rescue, has already been accomplished in principle by the first coming of Christ, we are still awaiting the glorious day when it will be accomplished in complete fullness.

We are in the same position as Israel in the wilderness. On the one hand, the great act of divine redemption had already occurred. At the exodus, the horse and its rider were cast into the sea. The Lord triumphed gloriously over the enemy. The covenant people of God had been delivered from their enemies. The passover lamb had been slaughtered and its blood sprinkled on the door posts. The destroying angel had passed by, and they were saved from judgment by God’s mighty hand and outstretched arm.

On the other hand, Israel in the wilderness was still Israel on the way. They had not yet arrived at the land flowing with milk and honey. The land that God had sworn with uplifted hand to give to the descendants of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob was but a distant hope. As they wandered wearily in the desert, almost fainting with thirst, God’s promises were all they had to hang on to. In the wilderness, between the already and the not yet, they had the Glory-Cloud in their midst as a pledge, a guarantee that God was going to keep his word. Having been redeemed from bondage in Egypt, they were sealed with the Spirit unto the day when they would enjoy the fullness of that redemption in the land.

And yet, in the face of God’s abundant grace as seen in his powerful presence among them, the prophet Isaiah tells us, “they rebelled and grieved his Holy Spirit” (Isaiah 63:10). They failed to believe in God’s promises. They grumbled and complained against Moses and against the Lord himself. What unthinkable ingratitude! And the wonder of it all is that God in his grace, on account of the oath that he swore to Abraham, eventually did bring Israel into the land to grant them, in his unmerited mercy, the rich blessings of the long-awaited inheritance, in spite of their rebellion.

Paul wants us to reflect upon our far superior position in redemptive history. He is saying, in effect, consider who this Spirit is that you are grieving. It is the Holy Spirit of God. It is nothing less than God himself whose presence in our midst, purchased by Christ and poured out at Pentecost, is the seal of our eschatological destiny and hope. When we allow these unity-undermining sins that eat away at our fellowship in the body of Christ, we are grieving the Spirit who has set apart from the world and who has stamped us as his chosen people destined for an eternity of fellowship with one another in the New Jerusalem. By means of our unbrotherly, unloving attitudes and words, attitudes and words that attack and destroy rather than heal and built up, by means of these things we are denying our very identity as the new society of heaven. We are acting in blatant contradiction to our identity in Christ. Let us treat one another as brothers and sisters in Christ. Let our words be such as are fitting for a fellowship of redeemed sinners saved by grace alone. Let us no longer grieve the one who has sealed us for an eternity of mutual fellowship and love. Don’t be like Israel who rebelled against the Lord in the wilderness.

One brief and final point. Notice the statement at the end of verse 29: “… that it will give grace to those who hear.” Just as hurtful words of anger can grieve the Spirit, so edifying words of love and encouragement can give grace to those who hear. We must choose our words carefully, seeking to communicate a spiritual blessing to those who hear. Our words are a means of grace by which the Spirit of the risen Christ conveys his grace to his people.

In heaven, we will ceaselessly praise the Lamb upon the throne. But we will not be worshipping him in the individual isolation of our own thoughts, but as the family of God united as one. Together with all the saints, we will know the height and depth and breadth and length of Christ’s love. Let us begin to enjoy now what we will enjoy forever in heaven.