Albert Barnes Commentary Ephesians 4:2

"with all lowliness and meekness, with longsuffering, forbearing one another in love;" — Ephesians 4:2 (ASV)

With all lowliness. This means humility. (See Acts 20:19, where the same Greek word is used). Compare also the following passages where the same Greek word occurs: Philippians 2:3, "in lowliness of mind let each esteem others better than themselves;"Colossians 2:18, "in a voluntary humility;"Colossians 2:23; Colossians 3:12; 1 Peter 5:5.

The word does not occur elsewhere in the New Testament. The idea is that humility of mind is fitting for those who are "called" (Ephesians 4:1), and that we walk worthy of that calling when we demonstrate it.

And meekness. .

Meekness relates to the manner in which we receive injuries. We are to bear them patiently and not retaliate or seek revenge. The meaning here is that we adorn the gospel when we show its power in enabling us to bear injuries without anger or a desire for revenge, or with a mild and forgiving spirit. (See 2 Corinthians 10:1; Galatians 5:23; Galatians 6:1; 2 Timothy 2:25; Titus 3:2, where the same Greek word occurs).

With longsuffering, etc. This means bearing patiently with the foibles, faults, and infirmities of others. (See 1 Corinthians 13:4).

The virtue required here is one to be shown in how we receive the provocations we encounter from our fellow believers. Perhaps no virtue is more frequently demanded in our interactions with others. We do not go far with any fellow traveler on the journey of life before we find there is great occasion for its exercise.

Another person has a temperament different from our own. They may be sanguine, choleric, or melancholy, while we may be just the reverse. They have peculiarities of taste, habits, and disposition which differ greatly from ours. They have their own plans and purposes in life, and their own way and time of doing things.

They may be naturally irritable, or they may have been trained so that their modes of speech and conduct differ greatly from ours. Neighbors have occasion to remark this in their neighbors, friends in their friends, relatives in their relatives, one church member in another. A husband and wife—such is the imperfection of human nature—can find enough in each other to embitter life if they choose to magnify imperfections and become irritated at trifles. Indeed, there is no friendship that may not be spoiled in this way, if we allow it.

Therefore, if we would have life move on smoothly, we must learn to bear and forbear. We must indulge the friend we love in the little peculiarities of saying and doing things that may be important to them but may be of little consequence to us. Like children, we must allow each one to build their playhouse in their own way and not quarrel with them because they do not think our way is the best.

All usefulness and comfort can be prevented by an unkind, sour, or grouchy temper of mind—a mind that cannot bear any difference of opinion or temperament. A spirit of fault-finding; an unsatisfied temper; constant irritability; little unevennesses in the look, temper, or manner; a cloudy and dissatisfied expression—which your husband or wife cannot explain—will more than neutralize all the good you can do and make life anything but a blessing.

The happiness and usefulness of life consist in such gentle and quiet virtues as meekness and forbearance, far more than in brilliant eloquence, splendid talent, or illustrious deeds that will make one's name known to future generations. It is the bubbling spring that flows gently, the little rivulet that glides through the meadow and runs along day and night by the farmhouse, that is useful, rather than the swollen flood or the roaring cataract.

Niagara excites our wonder, and we stand amazed at the power and greatness of God there, as He "pours it from His hollow hand." But one Niagara is enough for a continent or a world, while that same world needs thousands and tens of thousands of silver fountains and gently flowing rivulets to water every farm, every meadow, and every garden, and to flow on, every day and every night, with their gentle and quiet beauty.

So it is with the acts of our lives. Good is not done only by great deeds, like those of Howard, or only by great sufferings, like those of the martyrs. Rather, it is by the daily and quiet virtues of life—the Christian temper, meek forbearance, the spirit of forgiveness in the husband, wife, father, mother, brother, sister, friend, and neighbor—that good is done. In this, all may be useful.