“Strange Armour”

Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost

Sunday August 23, 2009

1 Kings 8: 22-30, 41-43

Psalm 84

Ephesians 6: 10-20

One of the most common and, in many ways, misleading criticisms of faith, and of organized religion, these days, is that religion is the cause of most of the violence that takes place in this world.

Without a doubt, there have been times when religion has been a contributing factor to many conflicts, rooted at least in part by the fact that people’s most deeply held beliefs – whether religious or not – have a tremendous power to affect human relationships – in both positive and negative ways.  However, the accusation that religion and violence are closely connected too often goes unchallenged. It is sobering to ponder the fact that modern history’s most despotic, genocidal and horrific regimes have had, as one of their only common denominators, an explicit desire to stamp out voices of faith.  Hitler’s final solution, Stalin’s purges, Mao’s Cultural Revolution, and the Khmer Rouge’s killing fields all shared a desire to stamp out some form of religious faith or spiritual expression. Moreover, the most oppressive regimes in the world today, such as North Korea, are known for their active suppression and persecution of any form of religious practice.  Religion may sometimes be the cause of violence; but a desire to stamp out religion can be equally, if not more infinitely more catastrophic. 

Nonetheless, the common accusation about the close connection between religion and violence makes it uncomfortable to read today’s suggested text from Ephesians.  The passage’s reference to taking up “the whole armour of God, so that you may be able to withstand on that evil day” seems overly – and, in some ways, unnecessarily -- confrontational and militaristic. 

Such militant and violent imagery cannot help but bring to our minds images from some of the worst moments in Christian history.  We think of violent crusaders, or of the armies of imperial powers, or of the combatants in feuding Christian nations – many of whom used and abused the image of the Christian soldier in their quest for a justification for their particular goals.  For King, for Country, for the goals of some political system – all of these patriotic and fervent calls to arms have, at times, been couched in decidedly religious terminology.

But such justifications of violence are not limited to the religious sphere.  The appeal to some greater good has been used to justify terrible violence in the pursuit of democracy, or by the goal of liberating the peasant working class into some ideal state, or by the desire to impose freedom on some other group.  The history of human war and violence seems to indicate that as long as we can couch our desires in noble terms, we seem able to perpetuate previously unimaginable horrors on others.  Put on the whole armour of God, so that you may be able to stand against the wiles of those devils over there.  Put on the whole armour of Allah, so that you may be able to stand against the incursions of the infidels.  Put on the whole armour of democratic freedom, so that you may be able to stand against the threats of the terrorists.  Put on the whole armour of advanced scientific technology and nuclear weaponry, so that you can guarantee a mutually assured destruction.  Put on the whole armour of the secular state, so that you may be able to stand against the threat of capitalism, or communism, or religion, or whoever is not like us.

But our hesitation with this passage likely goes farther than simply the militaristic language that is used in relation to faith.  Even if we find a way to set aside our hesitations about the use of such militaristic language, most of us would feel somewhat hesitant to describe our faith in the terms that the passage uses--as a conflict with unnamed, unseen but terrifying demonic forces.  Few of us would choose to state that our faith is a “struggle [that] is not against enemies of flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places." 

Such sensationalistic imagery about a cosmic struggle against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places seems somewhat overblown, somewhat unnecessary – perhaps even un-Presbyterian.

It is interesting, however, to note that throughout the history of Christianity, many different writers and theologians have used the image of a hard-fought conflict as an image to describe various stages on the journey of faith.  John Bunyan's famous story, 'The Pilgrim's Progress' contains images drawn directly from this passage, as it documents the pilgrim’s conflicts and struggles against temptation and despair on his way to the heavenly kingdom; certain sayings of the ancient desert fathers and of monks and spiritual guides throughout the ages offer advice about how to overcome the various conflicts and battles that are waged for our souls; hymns such as ‘God of grace and God of glory’ prays that we might be ‘armoured with all Christ-like graces, / pledged to set all captives free’. 

When we consider how often the imagery of conflict and armour has been used, it is worthwhile for us to reflect upon it more intentionally.  What have all of these different writers, and theologians, and poets been talking about? 

As we consider this image within the context of our own lives, we begin to realize that the language of struggle and conflict may not be as foreign to our own spiritual journeys as we might initially think.  Particularly as we celebrate this baptism this morning, it is good for us to remember that our own journeys – since the moment of our own baptisms – have not always been easy ones; nor will the journey that now lies before little Katherine Lillee Gleeson. 

Although we may not describe our spiritual life as an armed combat with cosmic forces of evil, all of us have had times when the call to lives marked by faith, hope and love has, indeed, been a struggle.  There are times when doubt seems to be prevailing over trust in God, when hatred of another seems to be winning out over the command of love, when anger seems to be more powerful than compassion, when cynicism seems to dominate our perspectives on everything to do with God or with faith.  When confronted by the tragedies of this world, we have all been tempted to give in to apathy, despair and indifference towards suffering.  We have all had to wrestle to withstand the temptations that confront us each day as we seek to live lives of faithful obedience, holiness and integrity.  We have all had experiences of disappointment, of grief, of frustration, of pain – experiences which have threatened to conquer any faith, or hope, or love that might be found in us.

It is in such times that we need to realize that the image of a conflict and a struggle within our souls is not as alien to us as we might first imagine. 

And it is in such times, when we are feeling conflicted, overwhelmed, and at the end of our endurance, that we need to remind ourselves of the strange armour that this passage commends to us in the struggle for faith. 

 “…fasten the belt of truth around your waist, and put on the breastplate of righteousness.  As shoes for your feet put on whatever will make you ready to proclaim the gospel of peace.  With all of these, take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one.  Take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.”  It is not the weapons of violence that will help us to prevail in the struggles that confront us; rather, it is, instead, in an intentional embrace of truth; in a striving to live in right relationships with others; in a diligent pursuit of peace; in a response to the call of faith; in the embrace of God’s saving and enlightening love; it is these qualities of the Spirit that are our tools, our weapons, our instruments in the conflict with evil, and injustice, and hatred. 

This passage neither suggests, nor condones the use of militarism or violence in its vision of what it means to put on the armour of God.   Rather, this passage names the fact that faith can sometimes be a struggle, but that the way to overcome evil and injustice is not to give in to their seemingly inevitable powers; rather, in the face of opposition and conflict, we are called, by contrast, to embrace truth, and goodness, and faith and peace in our ongoing mission of building the kingdom of God in this world.  

There will still be times when such faith is a struggle.  There will be times when our desire to embrace God’s reign will stand at odds with the ways of this world.  There will be times when injustice and evil might seem overwhelming in their power.  But in such times, we are called to don this strange armour, and trust that truth, peace, and the love of God still have the power to triumph over everything that might threaten them.

It takes intentionality to cultivate such qualities and characteristics – but such is the call of Christian discipleship, and the call to every one of us who have journeyed through the waters of baptism.  Those who have been baptized, and the parents of baptized children make the solemn and sacred promise to ground themselves in the stories and the example of Christ and the life of the Church so that they, and their children, may be strengthened in peace and compassion.  A  baptism – whether of an adult or of a child -- is never an empty nor a superstitious ritual; it is rather the beginning of the journey of faith, in which people make solemn promises that must be fulfilled with integrity. 

But it is not the baptized, or the parents of baptized children, who make a promise at the moment of a baptism.  Congregations and the wider Body of Christ make the promise, at the moment of baptism, that they will strive together to build a community in which the qualities of peace, of truth, of joy, of love and of holiness can be revealed.  It is only as these promises are fulfilled that we find the necessary strength and encouragement to take up the qualities of peace, of faith and of compassion that will transform the world, even as a small amount of light brings illumination to a dark place, or a bit of salt transforms the taste of the food to which it is added.

But in order for such transformation to take place, we need encouragement and dedication; we need intentionality and practice; we need to grow in grace and in faith so that, when confronted by conflict, by division and by opposition, we will not respond with violence or with anger; but rather with truth, with grace, with peace and with God’s transforming love.

May God bless us – and this little child -- not only in times of success and faithfulness, but also in times of struggle and failure, so that we all might find the power to stand for truth, for justice, for goodness, for kindness and for faith when we are feeling threatened and overwhelmed.  And may God bless each one of us so that, in all things, we might find strength in God’s unifying, saving, transforming, death-defying love, which has been revealed to this world – so completely and so powerfully -- in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.