Paul’s next letter is a bit different that Romans. Ephesus is a church he knows well. They’re partners and supporters of his ministry, and his love for them is evident in these opening lines, The warmth that he expresses is like that of beloved family members who understand and love you, and indeed this is just what Ephesus was for Paul.

As Paul closes one of his greatest letters, it’s refreshing to end on a note that feels like a reunion. Paul hadn’t founded the church in Rome and was trying his best to visit, but he did know several people in the area. In the last chapter, he calls them by name. (Even his secretary gets a mention!) This is an important principle. Theology is important, and is orthodoxy. But people are also important, and people are what make the church a body. These are the people who really lived and worked and built this church.

Paul isn’t content simply to give the Roman church an idea of their own identity, happening in their own city. As he starts to close down his letter, he also gives them a sense for how they fit into the bigger picture of the Church. Including them in his travel plans, he also gives them an idea of what other churches are doing for the poor in Jerusalem, no doubt to get them thinking about following suit. It may also be that his requested support is also monetary, but even if it’s just a pat on the back as he travels to Spain, they are part of a growing network of the body of Christ.

Today we remember the death of Mary, which in Christian tradition (John of Damascus) holds that she was taken up bodily, similar to the prophet Elijah. Whether or not that’s the way God did it (and God could certainly do it that way), it’s another reminder that what God did in Jesus, he did in regular people. He didn’t sent a band of angels to walk the earth, he sent a man that was born of a woman. That woman plays a critical role in God’s plan, and today we remember the end of her time on earth.

We’re almost to the end of Romans, and Paul is bringing the pieces together fully. Certainly, he anticipated some questions like, “if being Jewish isn’t enough, what about being Jewish even matters?” Especially the talk of foods and worship days enter the discussion here, because there are differences between Christian and traditional practice in those areas. Enter the presence of grace in the church. Jewish people need not give up the customs they believe bind them to God, and Gentiles need not take on these Hebrew customs. At the same time, Gentiles should not look down on Jewish Christians for keeping those customs. The goal is harmony in the body, following the guidance of the Spirit together.

Paul has laid out what this combined community of Jews and Gentiles looks like, how they live together, and their identity in Christ. Now he gets practical. They also aren’t to desert their local community. They are still subject to leaders and rulers. This was probably a good step to make sure that early Christians didn’t think they had to establish a new place and separate themselves from nonbelievers. The Kingdom doesn’t work like that. It springs up among their current communities, working its way among their friends and neighbors, traveling with the spirit to invite new followers.

Paul has laid out that Israel isn’t automatically saved because of their heritage, but the Gentiles now have salvation available without becoming Jews. Now he wants to bring the two together. Using the metaphor of the tree, he shows how the Jews were the original plan, but now the Gentiles are also included. It is one Kingdom, not two. What God started with the nation of Israel is now for all nations.

Paul continues to mourn the state of Israel as being supplanted as the people of God. If the birthright isn’t the key to the Kingdom, what is? It is always Christ. God’s message has been there from the start, woven through the prophets in the Hebrew Scriptures. Now that Jesus came, it all makes sense in light of his life, death, and resurrection.

Paul is obviously working out some of his own struggle with the Jews not automatically being part of the Kingdom inaugurated by Christ. No wonder. The Pharisee life had defined who he was, and meeting Christ left him in a real identity crisis. He’s working that out here, really trying to keep the good news out front: no, you’re not automatically in because you’re Abraham’s child. But you can still be in the Kingdom through Christ, he’s calling all his people out. There’s also a tinge of mourning in this letter, too, because certainly he had friends whom he knows will never follow the way of Christ.