Ephesians 6:10-20
Beloved of God, grace and peace to you in the name of Jesus.
I was the mom who banned toy guns from our home and then watched — first in shame and then in resignation — as our young boys turned fingers into guns and sticks into swords.
I’m the child who grew up in church bolding singing with enthusiasm, “Onward Christian Soldiers, Marching as to War,” and then, as an adult, inwardly cringed every time this hymn was suggested.
I’m the preacher who finds no delight in the metaphor employed in our reading from Ephesians, so, of course, feels compelled by the Spirit to wrestle with it in this sermon.
“Put on the whole armor of God,” the author of the letter to the Ephesians commands (Ephesians 6:11).
“Fasten the belt of truth around your waist and put on the breastplate of righteousness” (Ephesians 6:14).
“Take the shield of faith…the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit” (Ephesians 6:16-17).
And, “as shoes for your feet put on whatever will make you ready to proclaim the gospel of peace” (Ephesians 6:15).
The newly updated version of the NRSV translates that last sentence as “lace up your sandals in preparation for the gospel of peace.” Personally, I much prefer the former translation. It feels like a rather light-hearted invitation, in the midst of all this heavy armor language, to wonder what kind of foot gear will make me ready to proclaim the good news. Will the fashionable Sambas equip me for evangelism? How about the strappy yet sturdy Chacos? What would happen if I chose roller skates rather than running shoes? Or ballet slippers instead of boots?
“As shoes for your feet put on whatever will make you ready to proclaim the gospel of peace.”
What will make us ready to proclaim the gospel of peace? In a world where bad news is pervasive, how are we outfitted to share good news?
And, when so much of the bad news is that of oppression, violence, and war, doesn’t the notion of the armor of God just keep us captive to the idea that fighting is the best way — and perhaps only way — forward?
This reference to the armor of God in Ephesians picks up on similar language from the book of Isaiah. In chapter 59, we might as well be reading a description of what we see when we look at our phones, turn on our televisions, or open the newspaper today: “Their works are works of iniquity, and deeds of violence are in their hands. Their feet run to evil, and they rush to shed innocent blood; their thoughts are thoughts of iniquity; desolation and destruction are in their highways. The way of peace they do not know, and there is no justice in their paths. Their roads they have made crooked; no one who walks in them knows peace” (Isaiah 59:6b-8). “We all growl like bears; like doves we moan mournfully. We wait for justice, but there is none; for salvation, but it is far from us” (Isaiah 59:11). “Justice is turned back, and deliverance stands at a distance, for truth stumbles in the public square…” (Isaiah 59:14).
In the book of Isaiah, the Lord is described as seeing all these things and being displeased that there was no justice and appalled that there was no one to intervene. So, the Lord does it himself. “The Lord put on righteousness like a breastplate, and a helmet of salvation on his head” (Isaiah 59:17a).
So far so good. Breast plate of righteousness. Helmet of salvation. But then the text goes on, “The Lord put on garments of vengeance for clothing, and wrapped himself in fury as in a mantle” (Isaiah 59:17b). The image of God putting on armor is challenging enough, but the Lord put on garments of vengeance and a cloak of fury? What kind of Lord is this?
Thankfully, this is not the only reference in Isaiah to God, or God’s agents, donning apparel. The coming Messiah is described in this way: “Righteousness shall be the belt around his waist and faithfulness the belt around his loins. The wolf shall live with the lamb; the leopard shall lie down with the kid; the calf and the lion will feed together, and a little child shall lead them” (Isaiah 11:5-6).
As Christians, we interpret all of scripture through the lens of Christ. We hear in this description of the Messiah the kind of Savior Jesus will be for the world. One in whom there is peace and wisdom. One in whom there is righteousness and faithfulness. If only we could skip the preceding verse, as I skipped it just now: “He shall strike the earth with the rod of his mouth, and with the breath of his lips he shall kill the wicked” (Isaiah 11:4b).
We can’t skip it, but we can interpret it through the lens of Christ, the one who in his dying breath asked God to forgive the very ones who put him on the cross and mocked him mercilessly.
Earlier in Ephesians the author proclaims, “Christ is our peace,” breaking down the dividing wall between us and them (Ephesians 2:14). In Christ, we are “rooted and grounded” not in vengeance but in love, not in fury but in forgiveness (Ephesians 3:17).
With the breath of Jesus’ lips, he forgives sinners. He refuses to condemn the world, saving it instead. Jesus comes among us and breathes into us the Holy Spirit: “the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord” (Isaiah 11:2).
In a world where bad news is pervasive, we are outfitted to share good news, not because we’ve chosen the right shoes, but because in the waters of baptism God clothes us with Christ.
The armor of God is, ultimately, Jesus, the incarnate word of God. Christ is our truth, our peace, our salvation. Our struggle is against cosmic powers, systems of oppression and injustice, and forces that inspire despair and evoke hopelessness. But American writer, feminist, womanist, librarian, and civil rights activist Audre Lorde reminds us, “the master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house. They may allow us temporarily to beat him at his own game, but they will never enable us to bring about genuine change” (Microsoft Word – Lorde edit.doc (collectiveliberation.org)).
Jesus, in his life, death, and resurrection, dismantles the reign of oppression and brings about genuine change. Even the dehumanizing cross is transformed, becoming the tree of life.
God’s armor is not self-serving protection but life-giving vulnerability.
God’s armor is not heavy weapons of hate, but the boundless freedom of love.
Stand strong, beloved, because the strength you rely on is not your own but that of God.
Stand firm, beloved, and know that through you–the body of Christ–the good news of God’s love is breaking hearts of stone and releasing minds from the chains of hate.
Pray in the Spirit; persist in supplication for the saints. The Christ who swallowed up even death itself is your armor and your peace. Jesus, the Savior of the whole world, is suffering servant and bread broken…for you. Amen.