Ephesians 3:18-19

[I pray that you]...may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

There's that power again. Dunamis. The Greek word that we get dynamite from. A veritable explosion. The shaking of bones and severing of hearts that comes with a new influx of knowing. Not just knowing either: this is something stronger. This is violently grasping hold of, seizing, snatching. We need something seriously dramatic to take place within us if we are to get this thing. As Cate Lear says, Jesus, Holy-God-Man from Galilee, the one who pierces the deepest parts of us, God incarnate who overthrows our conceptions, rips through our reflections, and shatters what we used to think to show us what love really looks like. A love so wide that it encompasses every nation and covers every sin; so long it stretches from Calvary back through history and into all of eternity; so high that it joins heaven to earth and even the angels stop and wonder at it; so deep it goes down to the depths of the grave, into the darkness of Sheol, and brings us back. And this love fills us up. Paul loves fullness. Four times here in Ephesians. Twice in Colossians. We are reminded that God is completely and utterly full and that Christ is all that fullness in bodily form. In him, we are filled up. He fills the mouths of the hungry with good things. (Luke 1:53) Those who hunger and thirst for righteousness will be filled. (Matthew 5:6) What Lawrence Niesent dubs the three favourite phrases of humanity: I love you; I forgive you; let's eat! And so...taste and see. (Psalm 34:8) Gobble it up. Hunger for the fullness of God. Pant for his love. (Psalm 42:1) For anyone who asks him to come in invites a guest to the table. He's waiting to feast with us. (Revelation 3:20)