The Whole Armor of God
Frederick George Patterson
Table of Contents
The Whole Armor of God: Part 1
The few verses in the close of the epistle to the Ephesians (chap. 6:14-18) will give us the basis of the thoughts I desire to present to my readers. They are found at the end of the epistle which sets us already in the “heavenlies in Christ” (J.N.D. Trans.).
We read in Ephesians 1:7, “In whom we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of His grace,” following the blessed calling of God in which He has set us before Him as sons, holy and without blame before Him in love, and accepted in the Beloved (vss. 3-6). “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath blessed us with all spiritual blessings in heavenly places in Christ: according as He hath chosen us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blame before Him in love: having predestinated us unto the adoption of children by Jesus Christ to Himself, according to the good pleasure of His will, to the praise of the glory of His grace, wherein He hath made us accepted in the beloved.”
We enter this wonderful sphere of blessing by redemption through blood, as Israel was delivered by the passover and Red Sea. Then Christ has been raised up as man and seated on high (vss. 19-20); the people have been quickened, raised up together, and seated in Him in the heavenlies (Eph. 2:1-6).
In Ephesians 3:10 we read, “To the intent that now unto the principalities and powers in heavenly places might be known by the church the manifold wisdom of God.” Thus her testimony reaches the hosts on high, even at this present time. The angels see the Church in Christ Jesus; the world is to see His epistle in her here below!
When we come to Ephesians 6:12, we find our warfare is carried on in the same sphere. “For we wrestle not against flesh and blood,” as Joshua and Israel in an earthly Canaan, “but against principalities and powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high [heavenly, margin] places.”
Thus, whether for our blessings, our position, the Church’s testimony, or our warfare, the scene is all in that sphere into which we have entered already “in Christ.” And this is really what our Canaan is. We are passing on to be in the Father’s house on high, where no conflict will ever be; but we are already in an order of blessing where we have to fight the Lord’s battles against His enemies, and this is the true normal conflict of the Lord’s Host.
It will readily be seen that this armor of God is more that which enables us to stand against the foe, as we read, “That ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand.” It is not so much an aggressive warfare as a defensive. It relates too to the condition of the heart and conscience which, when good, leaves the foe without resource, and our souls are thus maintained consciously in the joy of our heavenly position as witnesses and soldiers of a glorified Christ. Do we suppose if our souls are bent on maintaining such a position, that Satan will allow us to pass? We shall never be so conscious of the depth of his wiles as then. Alas! what mournful instances crowd upon our memory, of those who once ran well, who fought valiantly in the Lord’s battles, and fell before the foe! Some part of his armor wanting; some joint let loose; some moment of an ungirded loin, and the ever watchful foe sent home his wile, and the bravest have fallen. Alas! what dishonor has been heaped upon His name; what shame and confusion of face have followed, when some active servant, some bright and blessed witness, prostrate before the foe, proves that none are secure in this solemn yet blessed battlefield, when lacking the condition of soul unfolded in this “whole armor of God.”
O beloved friends, let us be warned, deeply, truly warned — yea, forewarned, and therefore forearmed. If Peter had believed the words of Jesus, he would have deeply mistrusted himself, and failure perhaps would never have ensued. How He watches our hearts all the way, warning us, reminding us of the dangers and snares, at times permitting us to go to the brink of some awful chasm where some allowed and unjudged sin was leading us. He allows us, as it were, to see the abyss for a moment, and makes our hearts shudder, and then turn to cling more closely to Him — to adore that unwearying, unwavering love which thus deals with these treacherous hearts, that we may not fall and dishonor Him. Blessed, adorable Lord and Savior! Who but Thyself would bear with us? Who would — who could keep us as Thou?
And oh, was there ever a day in which Thy keeping was so needed as this? Hardly a book we take up, hardly a thought which is current, but carries some devil’s wile concealed. Lord, keep the young in this infidel day. Preserve the tender, impressible heart from the corruption of man, from the lie of Satan which circulates around. Give grace to parents to make their home a place where the young heart turns instinctively to find it truly “home” that they may not seek in the outer world what they should find there — the genial warmth of a parent’s watchful heart, the confidence of his trusting child. Walk before your children, dear parents, and present Christ to them thus. Win their hearts to Jesus by preaching Him in your words and ways.
The first thing which is presented to us in this armor of God, is the inward condition of our souls. There can be no divine activity until the heart is right with God. We may be heavenly men and know the things which are freely given to us of God, without this heart of a Christian soldier — a heart to which the truth of God has been applied in such a way that all is broken which would hinder the vessel being used. Hence nearly all the thoughts we have in this armor are what we would term subjective truth. He casts us back upon our own condition, but He never does this until we have been fully established by His grace in Christ. When this is so, we can bear anything; we can bear to be broken to pieces in conscience and heart by His word, just because this experimental work never gives us a thought of uncertainty as to our soul’s acceptance with Him. It is just because we are fully accepted in Christ that this dealing comes; we would not have such dealing with our hearts if it were not so. Many bitter experiences come before peace with God and redemption are known. Then comes another order of dealings, because of this new and blessed relationship and place before Him.
We read, “Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth.” Now there is no truth in the world but the Word of God. You find doubts. and darkness, and ignorance, and pride — plenty of speculations of man’s mind which, because he is a creature, never can rise superior to the level of a creature’s mind. The Word of God, being the revelation of the truth, sets everything in its right place and relationship with Him. It tells me what God is as revealed in Christ; it tells me what He is to a poor, lost, ruined world. It tells me what man is, what Satan is, what sin is; what His righteousness is regarding sin; what His love to the sinner. All is unfolded in the Word of God. But man cannot bear to be thus judged morally, and set where it sets him; hence every effort is made to weaken its force, to destroy the poor man’s faith in the living Word of God. Nevertheless, one who has tasted it in any little measure, finds in it (as the deep, cooling draft of water to the soul of a thirsty wanderer) that which satisfies his heart and sets his burdened conscience at rest. In it he finds and learns his Savior by the power and teaching of the Spirit of God.
When this living Word is applied to the heart and conscience, and the whole inner man curbed and broken, his loins are thus girded with the truth. The loins are that portion of the body that need to be braced up and supported in conflict and toil. Wherever we find Scripture speak of girded loins, we are supposed to be in the place of conflict and weariness, or of exercises of heart. As the Lord said to Job, “Gird up now thy loins like a man; for I will demand of thee, and answer thou Me” (Job 38:3).
When the loins are braced up with the truth, the affections are curbed and the will broken, so that there is a firmness of tone imparted to the whole man. He finds his way strewed with those things after which his natural heart would go out; but “the truth” has judged their value in God’s sight, as well as in his, and they are refused.
In this battlefield, where defeat is ruinous and where retreat is impossible, how deeply important that not even for one instant the girdle should be relaxed. A moment of carnal ease or fancied security, and the heart is entrapped into some action which years of bitter tears cannot recall. How we find too that even if the will was not active in going after the desires of the flesh and of the mind, the loins were ungirded and failure ensued. See David when he should have been with girded loin as a man of war in that day, in the battlefield at the time when kings go forth to battle; the heart was thus an easy prey to a watchful foe. Oh, what a bitter fall ensued in the matter of the wife of Uriah! Years of sorrow followed, and consequences which no repentance could ever efface from his house, marked the sure and certain righteous government of God.
Look at Peter in the garden of Gethsemane. No sense of his own total want of strength in the face of Satan. No thought of Satan’s power. He was sleeping with ungirded loin when he should have watched and prayed; he was in conflict when his Lord and Master was submitting Himself as a lamb for the slaughter. How had He (blessed Lord!) spent His time? In an agony of prayer. He was praying when Peter was sleeping; He was submitting when Peter was fighting. But what a sad conflict it was — flesh fighting with flesh, and with the carnal weapons of men! Then following Christ “afar off” — then denying with oaths — then the bitter tears!
How we see too that in this heavenly warfare a moment of victory is a solemn and dangerous one for the soul. We are never so near defeat as when we have conquered. The very success of the spiritual man takes him away from the sense of full and complete dependence. It is an intoxicating moment, so to speak, when the heart feels and knows that God has been using one in the battlefield. We are inclined to look upon it as our success; self is once more aroused, and the enemy has that on which he can work. David had conquered, and David was just crowned in Hebron. His first thought was of the ark, but his success did not serve to keep him a dependent man. He consults his “captains,” and places the ark of God on a “new cart” instead of on the “shoulders” of the Levites. How the failure of a spiritual man involves others in its sorrow; the “breach upon Uzzah” told this sad tale. Tells too how the moment of success is the moment to distrust oneself more deeply than ever, a moment to brace up the loins more firmly with the truth.
The time will come when we may let the heart go free, when conscience will not be needed, and there shall be girded loins no more forever. In heaven we shall be able to let the heart go free. Here never! If you tire for a moment in watchfulness, and relax the loins, the heart wanders into something that is not Christ. Then comes the reaction, and we tire of self more than ever. It has sprung up again and defiled the heart.
It will not do to have the truth merely known, but it must be the truth applied; and then with girded loin and broken will the heart goes on with God, and Satan’s wiles avail not. God’s truth has revealed all that is in heaven, and has revealed God’s heart on earth. It has judged all in this evil world; every motive and spring of action is laid bare by Him who was and is the living Word of God.
He came into this world — the Truth Himself — that He might bear witness to the truth. Not one single motive ever governed ours that governs His. The eternal Son of God became a man; He walked with God for three and thirty years, never doing His own will, perfect as it ever was. “Not My will but Thine be done.” He met Satan at the beginning of His path of service. The enemy came up to seduce Him from the path of obedience. He showed Him all the kingdoms of the world in a moment of time. Own me, said the enemy, and all shall be Thine. As God, He could have put aside his power in a moment. But this would not do for us. As man in obedience, and by obedience He bound the strong man. As man in obedience He was hungry. To work a miracle would be an easy task for Him who created the world. But no! He came to obey; and while it was no harm to be hungry, it was harm to satisfy that hunger without a word from God. “Man,” He says, “shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God.” I have come to obey. The living Word, in obedience on earth; perfect Man before God; perfect God to man. He was the truth, and the truth is now embodied in the words (not merely word) of God. Scripture is the words of God — the intelligible words disclosing all His mind. “Which things also we speak,” says the Apostle, “not in the words which man’s wisdom teacheth, but which the Holy Ghost teacheth.”
The Whole Armor of God: Part 2
Having shown us the preparation of our hearts to meet the foe by this subjective truth — a girded loin — he passes on to the state of the conscience, marked by the next part of the armor, the “breastplate of righteousness.” As it is a question here not of our standing before God, but of our facing the foe, I need but state that this breastplate of righteousness is a conscience void of offense before God and men.
There is no part of the armor which if lacking will make the heart so weak as this breastplate. Let none but one’s own conscience know in secret the stain that is there — be it of the faintest hue — the heart cannot stand boldly before Satan’s accusing power! The (consciously) righteous is as bold as a lion. Nothing is more to be sought than this most precious of all precious conditions of soul, a good conscience before God and the enemy. “Herein,” says Paul, “do I exercise myself, to have always a conscience void of offense toward God, and toward men” (Acts 24:16).
In the ordinary Christian, who is but seldom active in this heavenly sphere, a good conscience or the reverse plays a part more in a grieved or hindered Spirit than in open failure and feebleness. His own heart can tell whether his joy is full in deep, precious communion with the Father and the Son. This can only be enjoyed with a good conscience, an uncondemning heart. Confidence in God is perfect when the heart condemns us not.
If one labors actively in the forefront of the battle, how truly terrible is the case when in the midst of outward activity the accusations of the enemy fall on the ear of the heart. To keep up the outward activity in such a state of soul, is to leave the soul open to the wiles, and indeed the open power, of the enemy in a most solemn manner. How often those who have boldly stood for Christ and in His hand have been most blessed instruments of His power, have fallen — irrecoverably fallen from their post — because thus open to the snares of the devil.
There never has been, I think, a breakdown of this kind, but it has been preceded by warnings and previous dealings of grace, but which fell unheeded on the ear and heart. The Lord give us to be warned and to shun the danger — the wrong turning in our path — the wrong hour — to look not on the wine when it is red!
Having on the breastplate of righteousness then keeps the heart as bold and free as air, but free to go on with God. There rests no frown on His face, so to speak, and the soul is conscious of the freedom which grace has given, in His presence. The conscience purged by the precious blood of Jesus, maintained in practice good before Him, knows the joy of going on with Him freely and naturally. In such a walk the flesh is better known than in one who learns it by a bad conscience through failure and weakness. It learns the tendencies of the flesh in the light of His presence; it knows it has His strength to count upon; he makes indwelling sin, though not a ground of communion, an occasion of it, and his heart judges the tendencies it finds there, without the failure, learning them by the standard of God Himself as known, rather than the lower standard of the conscience which feels the stain. The first part of the armor then expresses the normal condition of the soul to which the truth has been applied, thus judging all the motives within, and bracing up the whole man. It may act detectively as the Word of God in Heb. 4:12, discerning “the thoughts and intents of the heart,” appraising every thought which springs up, as to its source — as of God, or of the flesh. Or discerning whether the intent which the heart cherishes has Christ for its object, or self. It may come too in the shape of a formative and sanctifying truth, as we read in John, “Sanctify them through Thy truth: Thy word is truth.” That in Hebrews is more the detective power of the Word, while John refers more to the formation of the soul, separating it by the word of the Father from the world. All that is of the world is not of Him. And then by the revelation of a Man in glory before the Father, who is our life, and who is the pattern for the new man before Him.
The second part of the armor is more directly as regards the conscience, giving condition of soul to face the foe, no armor being provided for the back. The breastplate bright — the conscience good — the soul thus walking with God, and the enemy having nothing to point at, nothing to enfeeble the boldness which it needs, and which otherwise would make the soldier of Christ as weak as water in His presence. No self-accusations to render him irritable with others, and in this way his heart is kept in peace. It is surprising to see how happy things seem, what a different hue they present when the soul is walking peacefully with God. The reverse too when there is an accusing conscience. Where it is so, we are ready to find fault with others, and see what we would not see if we were happy in the love of Christ, flowing from a peaceful walk and a conscience void of offense toward God and man.
When the conscience is good and the heart free to go on happily with the Lord, it is wonderful what a peaceful character it imparts to the pathway of the soldier of Christ. He is not what the world would call a hero. God’s hero presents a sorry figure to the world’s eye. A humble, broken spirit characterizes him. He has found the secret of strength, and the ability to govern his own spirit in a world where a man of spirit is esteemed. “He that ruleth his spirit [is better) than he that taketh a city” (Pro. 16:32).
What a tone this peacefulness of spirit gives to the whole man in the trials and troubles of the way. “The ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price” (1 Pet. 3:4). In man’s sight but little esteemed, but not so in the sight of God. We never find that peaceful spirit when the soul is not happy with God. It may be put on outwardly and there be a canker in the heart, but it is one of those precious graces of Christian life, which there is no such thing as imitating.
Alas! one sees the want of this, and cannot but see it in many who are occupied with very high truths. Objective things are presented to the soul and esteemed, as surely they ought to be. But there is the other side too — the broken, humble spirit which esteems others better than itself — the tone of soul which is ever on the watch for some line of Christ in the ways of others. This is the “mind of others.” No doubt that the divine energy which lifts one out of things here below is much to be sought for and desired; but when this side alone is looked for, the tendency is to make the person hard and inclined to judge others. To me, it is far more wonderful to see Him walking on earth as a lowly man, acting divinely in every circumstance, never indifferent to any sorrow or trial while feeling it more keenly than others, yet always accepting the trial in the meekness and gentleness which bows its head and accepts all the sorrow as of God. I do not say we can enjoy this beauty of Christ, or indeed perceive it at all, if we only seek to know Him thus. We must know our place first “in Christ” before God; we must “know Him” in measure, in that scene as the glorified One. Then we will be morally fit to enjoy Him, and trace His wondrous path of lowly love — the more to be wondered — at as we know the Person of Him who was there.
This lovely peacefulness of soul carries one into all the details of each and every day, with soft and gentle tread, sheds by its presence a calm and placid influence on others. It gives firmness to the pathway in which it treads the battlefield of God. The feet thus sandaled with firm footing, as it may be said of the glad tidings of peace, carries peace into the enemy’s land; and in face of the restless anxiety and uneasy fears which govern the hearts of so many, and as much as lieth in it, it lives peaceably with all.
Jesus Himself was the Prince of Peace. He passed through a world of unrest, in the calm of heaven. He was ever in the bosom of His Father. No circumstances ever ruffled Him. Sorrow and rejection pressed upon Him; unbelief and hardness of heart met His Spirit to chill, if it were possible, the love of His heart; still He went on. He sighed at man’s unbelieving spirit, but lifted up His eyes to heaven. The Samaritans would not have Him in His mission of love, because His face was as it were to go to Jerusalem; that is, His heart was bent upon a path which ended in the cross and shame. He bowed in submission and passed onward to another village, rebuking James and John who knew not what spirit they were of. His yieldingness is known to all (Luke 9:51-56).
At His end, when all His sorrow stood before His soul, even when He had surveyed its mighty depths and accepted the cup from His Father’s hand, He passed through shame and scorn and spitting in calmness and peace. No moving of His heart to haste; no reviling when reviled; no threatening when He suffered; His case was with His Father. In the midst of all, with girded loin as Servant of servants, He thought of Peter’s fleshly blow which cut off Malchus’ ear; He touched and healed it, repairing His poor impulsive Peter’s rashness. He still had His eye on Peter. He thought of him as one who specially needed His care. His eye was turned on him at the moment the cock crew, to disclose to him the distance his heart had wandered from his Lord. Silent before His foe, He committed Himself to Him that judges righteously, when His judges were condemning (and they knew it) an innocent man. He was as “a man that heareth not, and in whose mouth are no reproofs.”
Oh, how His blessedness judges our ways! What trifles move our hearts to haste! But still our calling is to be the heralds of peace, and of the Prince of Peace — to carry into a world of unrest a spirit of peace and restfulness which is to be found only where self is broken and God is trusted.
This condition of soul results as the outflow of Christian character, consequent on the previous pieces of this armor of God. The inward condition formed and braced by the Word of God — the conscience perfect to face the foe. No thought for self is needed, and the heart is thus free to go on with God and think of others, and, with restfulness of spirit, shedding blessing upon those around. Thus we find that this relative state toward others only ensues when the personal, inward condition is right with God. “Feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace,” follows the girded loin and breastplate of righteousness.
The Whole Armor of God: Part 3
We have examined the subjective or inward state of soul, personally and relatively, in the previous parts of this armor of God. Now we come to that inward state which rests in unfeigned faith upon God Himself in His known character — what He is — which sustains in us perfect confidence in Him so that come what will, we know that nothing can separate us from His love. Things may seem adverse; we may have reached our wits’ end, so to speak; still the heart that knows Him who cannot be but what He is, waits patiently for His time to show Himself strong in behalf of them that trust Him.
“Above all [this previous condition of soul), taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked [one).” What is here spoken of is not the faith of the sinner which first lays hold on Christ. We find that in the epistle to the Romans, and we may term it the no-working faith of a sinner: “To him that worketh not, but believeth on Him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted for righteousness” (Rom. 4:5). Here in Ephesians we find the faith of a saint — the perfection of confidence in God known experimentally as One who is what He says He is. That confidence which as the heart grows in the deeper knowledge of Him, discovers more deeply the springs of evil within, yet finds its confidence in Him growing in proportion, so that the heart trusts and counts upon Him against itself. It can say, I cannot trust myself, and God cannot trust me, but I can count on Him and trust Him. It can say, Go with me, for I am stiffnecked and cannot but fail if left alone.
You find this “shield of faith” practically illustrated in Moses. God had said that the people were a stiffnecked people, and if He were to come into their midst He must consume them in a moment. Then Moses took the tent and pitched it outside the camp, and the Lord came down and spake with Moses face to face as a man speaks with his friend. Moses had found grace in the sight of the Lord, and his heart sought to find grace; he sought to learn the fullness of this grace. All the goodness of the Lord then passed before him; and his heart, bowed in the presence of the mercy of the Lord, made the very fact of their being a stiffnecked people the plea that His presence might go with them by the way. The very reason which the Lord gave in Exodus 33:5 for not coming into their midst lest He should consume them in a moment, Moses pleads in Exodus 34:9 as the reason why He should go with them. “And he said, If now I have found grace in Thy sight, O Lord, let my Lord, I pray Thee, go among us; for it is a stiffnecked people; and pardon our iniquity and our sin, and take us for Thine inheritance.” But he had found out meanwhile what God is in Himself, and in this consciousness he pleads for His presence on the ground of what He is, and seeks His company by the way, because they were a stiffnecked people! Oh, what confidence; what a plea to present to Him in the consciousness of the depths of such evil hearts! And it must be so, the more He is known, and the more we know ourselves.
See this confidence even before forgiveness is known, in the woman of the city who was a sinner (John 4:28-29). The very light which rendered her speechless as a convicted sinner in His presence, drew her heart to the One who, while
He searched the conscience, piercing and following in its turnings all the depths of sin and a nature at enmity with God, drew the heart to Him in love, so that she could count on Him, because of what He was, against all that His holiness had disclosed of her heart. In her case it was a sinner’s confidence who had not yet been assured of His grace. How much greater must our confidence be in One whose grace is known, and who has set us without a spot in the presence of His holiness where the very light and holiness only increases the confidence of our hearts the more.
Satan may come in with his dark suggestions, but their power is gone because God is known. Thank God, we do know Him better than we know ourselves — not better than He knows us, but better than we know our own hearts. What a comfort to the heart, that He knew all — that He knows all! I can go to Him and tell Him all — the depths of evil, and the springs and motives which I find there, and find that I have Him for me against it all. Satan’s fiery darts (I do not now wish to enter upon their full meaning as used of God for discipline of the soul under His hand) are quenched with the joyous and exulting note, God is for me! Silenced by this blessed condition of soul conveyed to us figuratively in this “shield of faith.”
How much better it is to possess this blessed state of soul by having on the armor at all times, than to find its importance when wounded by some shaft of Satan. It is not the day of conflict which is the time to put it on, but when the heart is with God in the consciousness of His favor resting upon it. At the same time the deep consciousness that a watchful enemy is ever ready to take advantage of an unguarded moment, should such be allowed, and work defeat or wound the soldier of Christ.
Its deep importance is learned at times by failures and woundings of the soul. How much better, I repeat, it is to learn it in confiding peace with God — to use it in companionship with Him, rather than by exposing oneself with some portion of it wanting, to the assaults of Satan’s power. Negatively we may learn its importance by slothfulness of soul with God; the heart thus becomes indifferent and cold. Positively we may learn it when the conscience is concerned and not at rest. Then the Spirit of God acts as the stern, unbending convicter of the conscience, making us feel the loss of that joy and happy communion with our God and Father, as known and enjoyed against the evil, by His pointing out the evil which has thus separated practically the soul from God. How frequently we find the former, or negative, side. The latter, or positive side, is more terrible to bear, because the soul has enjoyed the favor of God which is better than life, and has lost it through allowed evil. I speak, of course, of one whose acceptance as a sinner is complete, and who has known it in the soul’s consciousness.
Thus this complete, perfect confidence in God, expressed in the shield of faith, follows all the previous inward condition of the soul conveyed to us in the loins girded with the truth — the breastplate of righteousness, and the feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace.
The Whole Armor of God: Part 5
If the shield of faith conveys to us the soul’s perfect confidence in what God is in His own unchangeable nature, the helmet of salvation teaches us what God has done for us, known and enjoyed in the soul, and with that unquestioning certainty that never leaves in the heart a shadow of doubt as to the result by-and-by. When the soul feels and knows this, it is free in the day of battle, and goes on without fear. It can think of others when the enemy seeks their ruin. It feels that that lovely word, “Thou hast covered my head in the day of battle,” imparts a firmness and joyfulness than no present circumstances can ever mar. The enemy may rage, and evil may be there; but through that impregnable helmet no sword can ever pass. God’s salvation as a helmet on the head, set there by the hands of God Himself, renders the heart fearless in the face of the foe. One is free, in the forgetfulness of all personal questions as to one’s own things, to desire others’ good.
What a lovely illustration we have of this helmet of salvation in Paul in Acts 26. For a considerable time in prison, cut off from the work he loved and lived in, and the sad thought perhaps that his own conduct was the immediate cause of his imprisonment, the first moment of his conversion fills his soul. There stood that blessed man bound with chains, before Festus, with King Agrippa and Bernice. He unfolded to them the story of his former life, his conversion, his mission of service. This Pharisee of the Pharisees, this righteous man according to the law who had lived in all good conscience before God, while doing many things contrary to the name of Jesus of Nazareth — this dread persecutor of the saints — of the Church of God — there he stood, the attention of the Roman governor riveted by the glowing words addressed to the king, until Festus cried out, “Paul, thou art beside thyself; much learning doth make thee mad.”
Mark the calm and collected reply: “I am not mad, most noble Festus; but speak forth the words of truth and soberness. For the king [Agrippa) knoweth of these things, before whom also I speak freely; for I am persuaded that none of these things are hidden from him; for this thing was not done in a corner. King Agrippa, believest thou the prophets? I know that thou believest. Then Agrippa said unto Paul, Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian. And Paul said, I would to God, that not only thou, but also all that hear me this day, were both almost, and altogether such as I am, except these bonds.”
There stood this blessed witness of the power of that salvation with which God had covered his head for the day of battle. An evident consciousness too of the truth they conveyed, in the king’s soul, before whom he spake the glowing words, eloquent from the calm and holy joy which filled the speaker’s heart. How near was King Agrippa to this salvation, and yet how far off when, to cover and conceal his emotion, he rose up and went aside to confer with the rest.
Chains and imprisonments had not dampened this heavenly joy. Free in heart, and with the helmet of salvation on his brow, he can think of others’ blessing. No desire was expressed as to removal of the bonds of Christ which he wore.
His desires were for others. He did not merely wish they were Christians, which King Agrippa seemed almost persuaded to become, but that they might be “both almost, and altogether such as I am,” that they might have the same deep joy which filled his heart — the same salvation consciously which rested on his brow — “except these bonds” — he could bear them alone for the Master whom he loved, and he would only wish them to be as happy as he, without the bonds.
Oh, what a softened feeling grace imparts to the heart which brings us in contact with a living Person who has placed the helmet of salvation on our brow! It is not the salvation itself which then engrosses, but the One who has so acted for us, setting our heart as free as air, that it may run in the same channel with His heart toward an evil world.
The soul is now free and in order to wield “the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.” Remark that first of all, the Word of God has formed us and braced up the whole inner man; the conscience is good; the path is peaceful; confidence in God is perfect, and the conscious joy of a salvation which no adverse power can mar, and which links the heart with Him who has accomplished it and bestowed it upon us, is making the heart joyously free. Then comes the aggressive warfare by the sword of the Spirit against the enemy of soul.
Remark too that as in all this armor it is a question of meeting the wiles of the devil, so here it is not the word used in edification for souls, but for detecting and unmasking these very wiles. How prostrate and feeble the soldiers of Christ seem to be in these infidel days. They fear often to stand alone by that Word which God has set above all His name (Psalm 138:2). They are not formed by its precepts themselves, and therefore they are not fit to use this mighty sword; it would cut themselves, for it has two edges. It must do its own keen circumcising work with ourselves before it can be used effectively against the foe. Israel must be circumcised themselves before they can draw their sword and follow the leading of the Captain of the Host of the Lord.
But when the soul is thus fitted to wield this sword, no enemy can withstand it. See the Lord Jesus Himself in conflict with the devil (Matt. 4). No power was put forth by Him to destroy the destroyer. No word was spoken to correct the misquotation of the enemy (v. 6). “It is written” was His weapon; and “By the word of Thy lips I have kept Me from the paths of the destroyer” (Psalm 17:4). It is very striking, as one has noticed, that when it became a direct conflict between Jesus and the devil, the Word of God was the instrument used on both sides. The Lord used it to explain and govern His own conduct, and the devil used it against Him. How solemn! In the present day, when the saints are thrown upon it as their resource, the devil uses it for his own ends as well. But the saints must be formed in obedience by it, else they will find they must fall with the sword of the Spirit in their hands, because it will wound themselves.
When those wiles of the devil are presented to the soul, there is no fear felt for the result of the conflict by the well-trained soldier of Christ. He is not amazed at what the enemy presents, nor distracted by an effort to have some text ready to meet the foe; the Word of God comes readily to the heart and lips, the wile is answered, the soul is steadied, and its conduct and obedience are accounted for by the Word. No wile of the enemy can stand for a moment before that mighty weapon which is “mighty through God to the pulling down of strongholds; casting down imaginations [reasonings), and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God, and bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ” (2 Cor. 10:4-5). Every infidel suggestion is met; every perversion of the truth is laid bare — every superstition with which the devil deceives his votaries, exulting in their shame — is exposed. All is met by the mighty instrument which alone can guide the soul in a world of boasting progress, but which, having lost the knowledge of God and refused the revelation of Himself in tender grace in Jesus, ripens under the culture of the wicked one, for that judgment which will consign himself and his followers to the lake of fire and brimstone where the beast and the false prophet are, to be tormented day and night forever! See Revelaton 20:10-15.
The Whole Armor of God: Part 5
Ephesians 6:18
We now come to the last mighty weapon in this “whole armor of God,” the breathing of His people’s hearts to God by prayer, when they have been formed by His Word — His breath to us! It is the characteristic feature of Christian life; obedience and dependence mark its activities in this fallen world. It is very striking how frequently we find the Word of God and prayer in close connection in Scripture. When God was dealing with and testing man in the flesh in the nation of Israel, He did not name prayer as part of their relationships with Him. They accepted, in their own strength, the law as the terms of their relationship. Now, prayer expresses the weakness of man. There were two forms of address given them, one expressing blood guiltiness (Deut. 21), and the other the expression of worship in the perfection of obedience (Deut. 26). But man was put on his own strength to do these things and so to live in them. What ruin ensued! Yet, in the midst of such a wreck, no doubt many a faithful heart cried to God, outside all ordered and formal relationships with Him.
In the opening of the first book of Samuel, we find a Hannah — desolate and pining after her heart’s desire, moving her lips as her heart expressed its cry to the Lord. Even Eli the high priest rebuked her, supposing that she was drunken with wine. But her answer seems to have touched a chord in the old priest’s soul, as she replied, “No, my lord, I am a woman of a sorrowful spirit: I have drunk neither wine nor strong drink, but have poured out my soul before the LORD.” Eli answered her, “Go in peace: and the God of Israel [He who had wrestled of old with Jacob in another way] grant thee thy petition that thou hast asked of Him” (1 Sam. 1:9). The child Samuel, whose name signifies “asked of God,” was the answer to this cry.
We find too in the early chapters of this book how complete was the wreck of things in Israel. The priesthood was defiled and corrupted, and at last the ark of God passed into the hands of the Philistines; and “Ichabod” was written on the ruined people whose aged high priest broke his neck in falling backward from his seat by the side of the gate, when he heard that the ark had been taken by the uncircumcised.
All ordered relationships were now gone. The people had no priest to draw nigh to Jehovah; the priest (if he desired it) had no ark, where to consult by “Urim and Thummim” — no mercy seat on which to sprinkle the blood before the Lord. What will now be His resource, who is never frustrated by the evil and failure of man? Samuel, the man who was asked of God, will now be the “prophet of the Lord” by whom God will reveal Himself again by the “word of the Lord” to the consciences of those who had an ear to hear. If God thus maintained His relationship through the consciences of His people by Samuel, the cry of need, the prayer of His people also went up to Him by Samuel (1 Sam. 1:8-9; 12:18-19,23). In this we find the two great principles or characteristics of spiritual life, so frequently found together in Scripture; namely, the Word of God and prayer. Mary at the feet of Jesus, hearing His voice, and the disciples saying to Jesus, “Lord, teach us to pray” (Luke 10 and 11), illustrate this thought. See also Peter in Acts 6: “We will give ourselves continually to prayer, and to the ministry of the word.” “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly”; then, “Continuing instant in prayer” (Col. 3:16; 4:2). Even the very food we eat is sanctified to us by the Word of God and prayer. God’s Word sanctions certain things for the use of the body, as meat and drink for His people; they receive it from Him with prayer, refusing nothing that has thus been set apart by His Word; “For every creature of God is good, and nothing to be refused, if it be received with thanksgiving: for it is sanctified by the word of God and prayer” (1 Tim. 4:4-5).
Prayer is the first expression of the newly born soul to God. They led Saul of Tarsus, blinded by the light of the glory in the face of Jesus Christ, to Damascus; and in the “house of Judas,” in the street called “Straight,” behold this persecutor on his knees. A little time before he was breathing out threatenings and slaughter against the disciples of the Lord Jesus; now the earnest cry ascends to and enters His ear; and “Behold he prayeth,” shows how the Lord’s ear and heart were attentive to these strong cryings of this chief of sinners.
Prayer takes very varied characteristics in the Word of God. If we turn to Luke 11 we find the Lord instructing the hearts of His disciples in the earnest prayer of importunity. He says, “Which of you shall have a friend, and shall go unto him at midnight, and say unto him, Friend, lend me three loaves; for a friend of mine in his journey is come to me, and I have nothing to set before him? And he from within shall answer and say, Trouble me not: the door is now shut, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot rise and give thee. I say unto you, Though he will not rise and give him, because he is his friend, yet because of his importunity he will rise and give him as many as he needeth.” How practical is the scene He here portrays! The deep sense of need, and dependence on One who has discovered Himself to our souls as One who alone can supply the need we feel. The sense of confidence is displayed too in the earnestness which turns not aside from Him to any other source. He knows the heart, and knows well whether there is this unmingled confidingness in Him. Yet it is not His goodness and readiness to hear and answer which are here unfolded, but the importunity, the pertinacity of the heart that clings to and cries to God until the need is supplied — that which abates not in earnestness in asking Him who has said, “Ask, and it shall be given you.”
But this is not the highest character of prayer by any means; still it is needed for His people while they are here. A still more blessed provision — for making known our requests — is found in Philippians 4:6. In this place we do not find that He promises to supply the need we express to Him, but He answers in another and much more blessed way. Ten thousand cares may press upon the heart; what is to be our resource? “Be careful for nothing”! is the reply. “Nothing,” you answer; how can this be? Then He proceeds, “But in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.” And how blessed is the answer. Perhaps not one request has been granted, but the answer comes in another manner. “The peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus”! God puts His peace into the heart which has put its cares on God! How frequently we are disposed to allow our cares to eat away at the heart, and bow down the soul. Care for the Church, the saints of God; the deep anxieties of service for the Lord; for the conversion of those we love; for the recovery of those who have wandered from the way. Circumstances too may try the heart; the love of those whose love we valued has grown cold; the bitterness of being misunderstood and misjudged — all press upon the soul. How blessed those strong, bright words, “Be careful for nothing”! How blessed to go to God in the strong cryings and secret bitter tears which His eye has marked and noted, and hand over the cares to Him! Mark, it is not to our Father, but to God. It is not here the confidingness of relationship, but to a holy Being whose nature is known — whose throne is never touched by cares. The heart learns there to pour out its earnest cry, deepening in intensity from “prayer” to “supplication,” until the heart has risen, as it were, above the cloud, above the cares which pressed upon the soul, until it bursts out in the pure light of heaven, in “thanksgiving” into the ever opened ear of One who gives His peace to the relieved heart, with the sweet sense that His hand is under the care, has taken it into His own merciful hands, and we have in exchange God’s own peace.
But in Ephesians we are outside the things which distress the heart, in another way. The range of vision takes in the things which occupy the mind of Christ. The great interests of the Lord on earth are before us„ more than our own cares. Not that He does not interest Himself with our little cares and trials — that He does; but here the prayer and supplication in the Spirit, with its watching and perseverance, is for “all saints.” In the true dependence of one who is fully armed with this armor of God, prayer keeps the heart in confidingness in Him. Self is broken, and He is trusted; and the more knowledge the more prayer. Satan cannot seduce the heart which is ever in this attitude before God. “He that is begotten of God keepeth himself, and that wicked one toucheth him not.”
The Lord’s people have thus been prepared to meet the foe and to “withstand in the evil day”; that is, the whole period through which we now pass. The soul is formed by the truth; the conscience good, maintained in the light; the heart peaceful, in the confidingness and piety which walks with God and trusts Him amid the storms and waves which beat around us. Thus Satan’s fiery darts are of no avail, and with the helmet of a known salvation covering the head, and the Word of God as the Spirit’s sword, we are ready to meet the wiles of the devil, and the heart is kept in a right condition before God in this evil world. He has His true place of authority which orders all; the saint too is found in his true attitude of dependence and confidence before Him, as expressed in prayer, but prayer which embraces His great interests here on earth — “all saints” in their labors and conflicts, toils and joys.
(Concluded)
A difficulty may be a real one, but it is only for the unbelief of hearts that it is an obstacle, if on the path of God’s will; for faith reckons upon God, and performs that which He wills, and difficulties are as nothing before Him. Unbelief can always find excuses, and excuses too that are apparently well founded; they have only this capital defect, that they leave God out.
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