“Joy Over Armor”
Ephesians 6:10-18
I realize that our scripture readings may sometimes seem disconnected from the issues of the day or the concerns of our daily lives. I understand that some readings may come off as overly simplistic, dualistic, or pie-in-the-sky.
It would be easy to dismiss today’s lesson for those or other reasons, including all the militaristic overtones implicit in the metaphorical armor of God (which is why I’ve sometimes called it the outfit of God) and the general us-versus-them tone of the whole thing.
There are many times when the language of our faith comes off, to most people, as an all-but-dead archaic and foreign tongue that they have no interest in learning. I mean, who even speaks it any more, much less understands it?
But there are other times when our spiritual language does translate, when—more than that, even—the language of the Spirit captures the reality of what’s happening in our lives and in our world in a way that nothing else can.
And so it was that on the third night of the Democratic National Convention—the night that Oprah Winfrey, Pete Buttigieg, Tim Walz and others riffed on the need for joy in our national politics—a man I went to high school with posted a remarkable statement on Facebook.
“If there is a God,” he said, “he has played his hand. Joy over darkness.”
My friend can be forgiven for his old-fashioned, male-centric God language because—did I mention this?—he is a proud atheist.
And friends, if even an atheist can publicly recognize the work of the Spirit, if even those who disparage all talk of God can acknowledge that there are spiritual forces at work in the world, shouldn’t we?
Granted, it was Transportation Secretary Pete Buttigieg, a devout Episcopalian, who used the term “politics of darkness.” Oprah Winfrey implored voters to “choose joy,” and Tim Walz thanked the crowd for “bringing the joy to this fight.” In all, Wednesday night speakers used the word “joy” some 35 times.
All of which is to say: The “joy” message was not exactly subtle. And the problematic use of the term “darkness” to describe the politics of division, fear, racism, and exclusion was not new or particularly original.
And . . . none of the speakers made an explicit connection between the power of joy and God. None of them spoke explicitly of the campaign not only for president, but also for the future of our democracy, as a struggle against cosmic powers or spiritual forces.
And yet my friend who sometimes goes out of his way to let others know that he does not believe in God seems to have had some kind of spiritual experience. There he was on Facebook, speaking of an engaged and joyful God.
I share this with you in part because I thought it was pretty amazing. We just never know why or how someone’s heart will be opened to the Great Mystery of Love. But I share it also in the hope that it will give us some perspective and reassurance whenever the media, the candidates, the politicians, our scriptures, or extremists of all stripes begin speaking in terms of good versus evil, right versus wrong, and an existential struggle that, if it goes the wrong way, could spell the end of all we hold dear.
We don’t have to read Ephesians 6 to go there. We’re bombarded with similar messages these days almost every time we open a newspaper, listen to NPR, scroll social media, or talk with our friends and family. These are anxious times and, far beyond the realm of politics and society, many believe there are spiritual forces at work.
The writer of the Letter to the Ephesians says we are caught up in a grand spiritual battle, and implies that the outcome will depend largely on us. We must be strong and stand firm. We must put on the whole armor or the complete outfit of God. We must pray without ceasing, remain ever vigilant, and persevere in prayer for the people on our side.
Well, there’s nothing wrong with doing those things—especially the praying. And, when the going gets really tough or if, depending on our life circumstances, the going may always be tough, it’s good to have a plan not only for how to survive but also to prevail. But I would hope that we would remember that God is with us and that we would seek God’s help, strength, and courage. I would hope we would trust that the Spirit of Love is at work in the world, and that the Spirit of Love is stronger than everything else.
And still, most of us do walk through our lives wearing some kind of armor at least some of the time.
Oh, we may not think about “the cosmic powers of this present darkness,” and we probably don’t consider what we do as wearing armor for a spiritual battle. But consciously or unconsciously, many of us develop coping mechanisms, strategies for making it through.
Think about it: In a warming world of fires and floods and melting ice and rising seas, in a land where racism still kills, in all the real pain and suffering of life, in over-scheduled lives where we are trying not to lose ourselves, in lives filled with lots of activity but little connection—it can be tempting to reach for whatever armor works.
The armor of denial. The armor of self-sufficiency. The armor of privilege. The armor of activism. The armor of withdrawal and isolation. The armor of busyness. The armor of numbing. The armor of escape. The armor of belief.
And when we think about it that way, the so-called armor of God seems much healthier and more effective: The sash of truth. The breastplate of justice. The shoes of peace. The shield of trusting in God. The helmet of God’s deliverance and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.
How threatened the Christians in Ephesus must have felt to need to turn the way of Jesus—the way of redemption and freedom, healing and transformation—into a spiritual defense system. And, indeed, they were facing persecution for their faith living in the shadow of the oppressive Roman Empire.
I hope and pray our situations are not that dire, though we, too, face both global threats and personal challenges, including loneliness, depression, financial insecurity, addiction, aging, illness, and relationship and family struggles.
So much is out of our control, and the worse things get, the more natural it is to try control as much as we can. And so we may shut down emotionally. We may plan every minute of our day. We may put on a brave face, pretending everything is fine, no matter how we’re feeling inside. We may pull back from church or relationships or other support systems. We may put on every kind of armor we can think of to protect ourselves from every kind of hurt.
But Jesus came that we might know life, and I’m not sure we’ll ever fully experience the abundance God wants for us if we’re living defensively. I’m not sure we’ll do much more than survive if we insist on making it on our own.
Jesus did not armor up. He trusted God for everything and lived with both authenticity and vulnerability. He lived with love for everyone—including his enemies—and with a joy in connection, service, and sharing the good news. He lived in community with real, imperfect, poor, and sometimes despised people.
Beloveds, I want to be clear: I am not suggesting that we don’t take care of ourselves or that it isn’t both necessary and wise to protect ourselves from physical, emotional, or spiritual abuse. In those cases, prayer and connection are practices for deliverance, healing, and the promises of a fuller life. And if the conditions in your life require you to always be on defense, please reach out for help—to me, someone else here in our church, a therapist, or social service agencies.
Otherwise, let’s not go through life with our hearts so protected from harm that love has a hard time breaking through. Let’s not go through life with our minds so shielded from different perspectives that we’re unable to change and grow.
Friends, the Holy One is revealed in love, joy, hope, peace, and people working together for the good of one another and the good of all. Joy, love and hope break through defenses in ways that reason and argument cannot.
So let us pray for the day when we and all people will feel safe enough to lay our armor down. Let us live out our values with more joy than stridency, more openness than opposition. Let us rejoice in the truth that God is with us, and that we’re not in this struggle alone.
Let us choose joy over armor.
