Wilderness Wanderings

Whoever does not take up their cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds their life will lose it, and whoever loses their life for my sake will find it. (Matthew 10:38-39)

Jesus said to her, "I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?" (John 11:25-26)

These verses present some of the key "dialectics" of our faith. Now I'm not talking about the difference in accents across regions, like the Nova Scotian dialect that makes them sound funny when they say the word "car." No, that devotion will have to wait for Pentecost. I'm not talking about "dialects," I'm talking about "dialectics." It's a word drawn from philosophy, and a particular corner of it. In this instance, I'm using "dialectic" to describe the holding together in tension of two opposed realities.

The New Testament is full of examples. The dialectic tension can be felt in the verses above, where Jesus says it's only the one who loses their life who will find it, or the one who—by believing—will live even though they die. But dialectics show up all over. God's strength made perfect in our weakness. Jesus as both fully God and fully human. God's eternity entering into our time-bound lives.

The Christian life is defined by holding together the opposites. You cannot live in the middle, in a Laodicean "lukewarmness," but nor can you flatten the whole world into either hot or cold. You have to hold together both hot and cold, without losing or mixing either of them into a lukewarm puddle. So, you have to hold together death and life, suffering and joy, light in darkness, being lost and found, both sinful and holy, both pure and stained, and worship a Jesus who is both one of us and totally other than us.

You cannot get rid of Jesus' humanity or his divinity, or you no longer have Jesus. It's both/and, not either/or. You have to hold the dialectic tension. You also can't pretend that you aren't at the same time both lost AND found, sinner AND saint. We are not one or the other—we're both at the same time our whole lives through.

We Christians are a people called to hold and bear the tension of both/and. We are called to hold the "dialectic," bringing both sides of totally opposed realities in their strength, weakening neither of them.

That said—we Christians are pretty bad at being "tension holders." Instead, we're more often just "tense." But not in the healthy, hopeful, or holy sense. When we feel these tensions, it seems to us that something must be wrong and that somehow one side ought to win out over the other to resolve it, because who can live in such tension? So, we fight and force resolutions, or split off on our own to avoid the tension. But rarely does the tension resolve for long. Life continues to thrust us back into dialectics that complicate everything and string us up in yet another complicated tension of opposite forces.

The Bible confirms that this dialectic tension, rather than its absence, is actually the way things are supposed to be for now. Everything is defined by unpredictable dialects which serve their purpose when we surrender to them and allow them to do their work in keeping us awake, alert, and attentive to Jesus' own mysterious work of bringing life through death. Dialectics provide the tension and resistance that exercise our faith and trust, causing them to grow. Without that tension: our faith muscles atrophy and go limp in Laodicean lukewarmness.

So, keep both the hot and the cold. Take up your cross today and every day to lose your life so that you can find it each day anew in Jesus. And, trust the weakness of his humanity and the strength of his divinity to mysterious shepherd you through whatever joys and sorrows life throws your way as you walk in his way today.

BECAUSE YOUR LOVE IS BETTER THAN LIFE, MY LIPS WILL GLORIFY YOU (PSALM 63:3).

We have finished our series on Ephesians. Next week Lent begins, and Wilderness Wanderings will have something special this year. Between now and then Pastor Anthony and I will Wander to various places in the scriptures. Today, we meander over to Psalm 63.

Jack Benny was a beloved entertainer. Though in real life he was an excellent violinist and a generous man, he often played comedic roles in which he was a terrible musician and an extreme penny-pincher.

One of Benny's famous sketches involved an attempted robbery. A thief sticks a gun in Benny's back, saying, "This is a stickup! Now come on. Your money or your life."

Benny fails to respond, saying or doing nothing for several seconds. The thief repeats his demand, "Look, bud, I said, 'Your money or your life.' " Benny responds, "I'm thinking it over!" For Jack Benny's miserly character, there was something better than life, namely money.

The author of Psalm 63 would agree with Benny that there is something better than life, but it wouldn't be money. In verse 3, David prays, "Because your love is better than life, my lips will glorify you." What is better than life? God's love.

This word love is multifaceted. It includes kindness, mercy, and steadfast affection. It is closely associated with God's covenant relationship with Israel. It reflects the perseverance of God's graciousness towards her over multiply generations. This, despite the fact Israel often rejected him.

Do we really believe God's love is better than life? In principle, of course. But we must confess that sometimes we live as if life, especially the temporary pleasures of life, are better than God's love. Don't we, when faced with the choice, echo Jack Benny, "I'm thinking it over."

If God's love were better than life itself, then we would be well served to build into our lives regular opportunities to experience and grow in God's love. Regular times with the Lord. Times of retreat (silence, including digital silence), so we can clear our heads and pay attention to God.

To experience God's love, we need deep relationships with our brothers and sisters in Christ, so that we can learn what it means to love and be loved. We need to be faithful in joining with others for worship, so we can remember the Gospel as it is sung, preached, and celebrated in communion. And we need rest from work, so we can be restored and remember God's amazing faithfulness.

Lent has become known for many things, mostly, giving up many things. But that was never the point. Whatever we do, the goal has always been to learn anew that God's love is better than life; that God's love is the source of our life.

So, as you prepare for Lent, consider what you can do that will enable God to draw you deeper into his love?

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.

Peace to the brothers and sisters, and love with faith from God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Grace to all who love our Lord Jesus Christ with an undying love. (Ephesians 6:23-24)

Paul often ends his letters with these two words: grace and peace. They come in a different order and a different way every time—but these are the two words that reliably offer the benediction at the close of Paul's letters. Here those blessings of grace and peace resonate as reminders of what came before in this letter.

Like from the first chapter's run-on sentence of lavish, overflowing gifts of grace or second chapter's famous words "by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast" (2:8-9). Now as we close, Paul reminds us once again that God's grace surrounds his people from beginning to end. Grace: a gift given to us which spills over from us.

And the word peace. We discovered in chapter two that Jesus Christ himself "is our peace" (2:14). His purpose being to "create in himself one new humanity out of the two, thus making peace, and in one body to reconcile both of them to God through the cross, by which he put to death their hostility. He came and preached peace to you who were far away and peace to those who were near. For through him we both have access to the Father by one Spirit" (2:15b-18). This peace of Christ which has made us to be a "unity of the Spirit in the bonds of peace" is ours—a gift we are called to both receive and "keep" (4:3). Peace then also, is a gift given to us which is to be actively tended by us.

Then, new words join the usual pair of grace and peace here. Faith is one of them. We already heard that word come up: "by grace you have been saved, through faith" (2:8). It is "through faith in [Jesus] we may approach God with freedom and confidence" (3:12). We learn that there is but "one faith," just as there is one Lord and baptism (4:5). Again, this unity of "one faith" is a gift and a goal, just like peace. We are called therefore to use our gifts to support and build one another up "until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son…" (4:13). Faith in Christ is also our shield against the powers of evil (6:16). But as the letter begins and ends, we hear not of faith in the abstract noun, but faith as a lived reality—a verb. Paul writes at the beginning of the letter to "the faithful in Christ Jesus" and at the end he writes of "Tychicus, the dear brother and faithful servant in the Lord" (1:1, 6:21). Faith is also a gift and goal.

Love is another word Paul adds. When love shows up in the first half of the book (which is a lot!), it always refers to God's own love, aside from just one instance. Love too then, is firstly a gift of God before it is ever an act of humanity. So profound is this gift of God that Paul prays his famous prayer for his hearers, that "being rooted and established in love, [you] may have power, together with all the [saints], to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God" (3:17-19). Then in the second half of the book, love dominates Paul's instructions for how to live as a saint. The emphasis can be summed up in the words of 5:2, where Paul invites us to "walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God." Love as a gift, love as a goal.

Faith and love come together in the beginning, where Paul writes "ever since I heard about your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love for all God's people, I have not stopped giving thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers" (1:15-16). Now at the end he picks this unceasing prayer back up in his benediction: "love with faith from God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ" (6:23).

The most significant words added to this ending, though, are the names of God himself. The letter began with a four-fold repeat of God the Father and Jesus Christ the Son. They are both mentioned in each of the opening four verses. Now at the end, they appear again. The Father and the Son, giving gifts to the saints. And, here we are as God's people, the saints, responding to God's good gifts. This is the gospel according to Ephesians, it is the way that the saints practice a life of resurrection in Christ. Receiving the gift and walking it out as our life's goal.

For, to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. (Ephesians 3:17-21).

Tychicus, the dear brother and faithful servant in the Lord, will tell you everything, so that you also may know how I am and what I am doing. I am sending him to you for this very purpose, that you may know how we are, and that he may encourage you (Ephesians 6:21-22).

Many of Paul's letters end with mention of people by name. There is only one here: Tychicus. He is first mentioned in Acts in connection with Ephesus (Acts 20:4). The sermons Paul was preaching in that city set off a riot. Paul and seven of his companions, one of whom was Tychicus, cleared out. Now he is set to return home carrying Paul's letter to the Christians there.

Its worth our time to pause at this name and others mentioned in the New Testament letters. They remind us that church is a community of Christians. As the old song says, "the church is the people." Naming Tychius reminds us that real people write, deliver, and receive this letter. The church is God's gift of people to one another so that we can learn the practice of resurrection life together.

The Christian life is never an abstraction, never anonymous, never a problem to be fixed, never a romantic ideal to be fantasized. Christian resurrection life takes place in various ways but never apart from conversations between God and people with names, such as Tychicus. It can not be done in abstraction, only practised among real people.

"Tychicus will tell you everything." This letter will not come via email. It will be delivered personally. And the deliverer will give the context in which the letter was written, everything that is going on with Paul, everything that is going on with the congregation in Rome, the ways in which political events in Rome are impinging on the congregation of believers, perhaps greetings from acquaintances and friends, stories of the journey.

It is likely that Tychicus left Rome with two letters tucked in his robes. He also carried the letter to the Colossians (4:7). He would then have carried news from one church to the other. Paul sends Tychicus to encourage the hearts of the Christians. Having been encouraged, all these conversations will undoubtedly be turned into prayers.

We should not reduce church to sermons and sacraments, theology and liturgy, Bible studies and prayer meetings, committee minutes and mission statements. There are names, meals, small talk, births, deaths. There is us. Conversation is essential. The "everything" that Tychicus will say to the Ephesians is not insignificant to being the church. And you and I are Tychicus.

This is all underscored when Paul names both Tychicus and the readers "brothers", the plural is used to include both men and women. It's a common designation Paul uses for his fellow workers and Christian friends, underscoring the bond and sense of family early Christians felt.

Further, at the beginning of the letter Paul described his readers as "the faithful in Christ Jesus." Here at the end, Tychicus is described as a "faithful servant in the Lord." Paul is underlining the importance of both faithfulness and that we are all in Christ.

The phrase "in Christ" is not just a piece of theology, it also describes how Paul sees his Christian friends. It is our bond, our unity. We are all in Christ and thus belong to each other. These words shape how we view God and ourselves. Paul's view of his friends and his concern for them deserve to be copied. By viewing other Christians as in the Lord and by desiring God's gifts for them, we change the way we relate to them.

So next time you read names in these letters, pause and wonder. Who are they? How are they connected to the church? What gifts are they bringing to the fellowship? Who have they encouraged and who might have encouraged them? What names connect you to the community of faith? How will you express the "in Christness" of the church? When we do this, we fulfill the doxology that has undergirded our wanderings through this letter.

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. (Ephesians 3:17-21).

Pray also for me, that whenever I speak, words may be given me so that I will fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains. Pray that I may declare it fearlessly, as I should. (Ephesians 6:19-20)

Paul has prayed for the Ephesians and invited them to be praying for all the saints. Now he also invites them to pray for him. For the first time since verse one of this letter, Paul places himself into the letter personally.

Throughout this letter, Paul has been "making known the mystery of the gospel for which he is an ambassador." Now he asks for help to keep doing it. Paul needs God's help and theirs if he is to remain free of fear. He mentions fear twice. He also needs God's help and theirs to be armed with the sword of the Spirit himself. That is: to be able to receive and declare God's words, words that can make known the mystery of the gospel.

At the beginning of the letter, in Paul's opening run-on sentence filled with the lavish gifts of God for his people, he said it was God who "made known to us the mystery of his will according to his good pleasure" (Eph. 1:9). Paul now ends how he began. Recognizing that the "making known" of the gospel is a work that God has done and continues to do, Paul asks the Ephesians keep asking God to do it again, and for God to use Paul himself in that work of "making known the mystery of the gospel."

Here we find that beautiful, interdependent circle of faith redrawn for us. We work out what God works into us. Not even the great apostle Paul was able to go forward in his own strength. It was only through the reception of God's gifts, God's peace, and God's words that Paul could declare these mysteries of the gospel fearlessly as he should.

Importantly though, Paul's declaring of the gospel also depended on the prayers of the church. Only "together with all the saints" can the width and length and height and depth of the love of Christ be grasped and known. No one can step forward in faith without the prayers of the saints and the gifts of God. Jesus has reconciled us together into his church for a reason. Faith is a team sport, as is mission.

Asking for prayer is hard though. We don't want to bother or burden others, draw attention to ourselves, or seem needy. We'd like to believe we can do it all well enough on our own. Self-sufficiency is our ideal—all the structures, incentives, and expectations are pointed in this direction in our culture. Asking for prayer does not come naturally.

Paul's example should give us pause, however. In order to do any of the things that he has—throughout this letter—been doing, he depends on God and on the prayers of others. Paul's starting place is his own inability, fear, and need. He openly admits these things as well as his need for help—he is in chains, after all. So in humility and vulnerability, he admits to all who can hear: "I can't do this. Pray for me." In so doing, Paul not only gets the strength he needs, but he also helps the body to be built up in maturity in faith and relationship as each saint puts their own prayers to the plough for his sake.

Our mutual need, God's ever-present gifts, and our mutual ability enabled by those gifts are what keep the body supple, moving, and growing up in love and maturity into the head, which is Christ.

My needs give an occasion for your prayers, and your needs for mine. These are the things that keep us active in our relationship with one another and with God. So, at the start of this new week: what do you need prayer for? Who can you ask to pray those prayers? Go do it, because in this way, you offer the gift of your need to someone else so that we all grow up into Christ.

For, to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. (Ephesians 3:17-21).

A Sunday Sermon edition of Wilderness Wanderings! The text of Matthew 4:1-11. Dive In discussion questions are below for further reflection!

To see this sermon in the context of the worship service it comes from, find it here on YouTube. Or, head to our website to connect with the worshiping community of Immanuel CRC: immanuelministries.ca

1. Who do we learn about in this story? What two titles are at issue? What phrase from the previous story is called into question? How do we find ourselves in this story?

2. What is the first temptation about? How does it get used in the life of the church today? In what ways do you face it? How should we respond?

3. What is the second temptation about? How does it get used in the life of the church today? In what ways do you face it? How should we respond?

4. What is the third temptation about? How does it get used in the life of the church today? In what ways do you face it? How should we respond?

5. What encouragement ought we to find in this story?

And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and pray with all perseverance for all the Lord's people (Ephesians 6:18).

Two words stand out in our text: pray and all – "pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests; being alert pray with all perseverance for all the Lord's people." We should not miss the intent that receiving the armour of God is done with prayer. In its most basic sense, prayer is the expression of our dependence on God. We can only stand against the devil's schemes as we depend on the one who has already won the victory.

We pray in the Spirit. There is a close connection between prayer and the Holy Spirit. Do not get caught in the trap that says 'praying in the Spirit' is some form of super spiritual prayer only a few Christians achieve. Paul has already given us his teaching on the Spirit, emphasizing he is for and in all. "For through [Christ] we both (Jews and Gentiles – thus all) have access to the Father by one Spirit" (2:18). "And in him you too are being built together to become a dwelling in which God lives by his Spirit" (2:22). "Be filled with the Spirit, speaking to one another with psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit" (5:18-19).

Praying in the Spirit is the only way to pray to God. This gives confidence to our praying because the Spirit keeps us connected to God. Our prayers do not bounce off the ceiling but make their way to the throne of grace, which is not far away. And from the one who sits on the throne we will receive the aid we need to stand against the devil. We pray with conviction not because we feel close to God, but because we know that we are. It is not our responsibility to get close to him, he has come close to us in Christ, that connection now mediated by the Spirit.

The trouble is that the Spirit is our sin meter (John 16:8), alerting us to our tendency towards waywardness. Recall that most temptations regard these things Paul has been warning us about: deceitful desires, falsehood, unrighteous anger, stealing, unwholesome talk, grieving the Holy Spirit, bitterness, rage, brawling, slander, every form of malice, sexual immorality, impurity, greed, obscenity, foolish talk, or coarse joking, dishonouring people we are in relationship with, spouse, children/parents, bosses, employees. The armour protects us from giving in to the temptations to engage in such things.

Praying in the Spirit, we are moved away from such actions and deeper into the righteous life of Christ. Prayer is not getting our will done in heaven, but heaven's will done on earth. Its not about twisting God's arm; but about twisting our wills to match God's. That is why we are to "pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests, praying alertly with all perseverance for all the Lord's people."

Our adversary is a 'tricky little devil' whose greatest delight is to trip us up. And so, we should not neglect to notice Paul's encouragement to be 'alert'; alert to the things that tempt us, alert to the proddings of the Holy Spirit to lead us away from sin and into righteousness. John Stott once commented, "without prayer, we are too feeble and too flabby to stand against the forces of evil."

We need to train our minds, hearts, souls to pray; to be busy with it all the time. For many of us, our image of prayer is heads bowed, eyes closed, hands folded. How can we be doing that all the time? It might be helpful to imagine prayers as 'tweets' (now called posts): little phrases of adoration, thanksgiving, confession, and supplication offered to God, with eyes wide open and hands busy with life.

Finaly, we pray for each other, for all of the 'each others' of Christ's new community. We hold each other before the throne. And in response, our Heavenly Father continues to pour forth his spiritual gifts upon his people, filling us with the goodness of the Holy Spirit. And so, Paul's doxology is fulfilled:

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. (Ephesians 3:17-21).

Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. (Ephesians 6:17)

Interestingly, the word at the beginning of this sentence has less the meaning of "take" and more the meaning of "welcome" or "receive," which is its usual translation. We take the helmet and sword, therefore, as an act of obediently receiving—welcoming—what God is giving to us. Namely, his own armor and gifts.

The sword of the Spirit which is the word of God is our focus today. If any of these armaments in Ephesians is an offensive weapon rather than a defensive one, surely this is it—right? Not so fast. Our commander has not changed his command. It remains "stand."

Jesus tells his disciples to buy real, literal swords as they leave the Upper Room for the Mount of Olives on the night Jesus was betrayed. As it turns out, the eager disciples already have two at hand. Jesus very quickly tamps down their enthusiasm with a terse reply of "That's enough!" Why? The swords were not needed for attack or violence, they were only needed to fulfill the word of Isaiah, which says "he was numbered with the transgressors." For further proof, the story continues. When Jesus is about to be arrested, one of his sword-wielding disciples swings into action, lopping off the ear the servant of the high priest. Jesus' response is an immediate rebuke: "No more of this!" he says, as he turns to heal the wounded enemy before surrendering himself to arrest. The disciple had asked Jesus "should we strike with our swords?" but did not wait for the answer from Jesus before swinging. That's often how it goes, but one gets the impression from this scene that Jesus' answer would have been "no" (see Luke 22:35-51).

The best example of this "sword of the Spirit" in action then, is when "Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, left the Jordan and was led by the Spirit into the wilderness, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil" (Luke 4:1-2a). Three times over, the Spirit-filled Jesus uses the Word of God to defend himself against the temptations of the devil. He does not attack the devil, he does not run from the devil, nor does he scoff and ignore. Jesus stands his ground in the Spirit, and uses the Word to defend against the devil's temptations. This, more than anything, is our picture of the "sword of the Spirit" in action as a weapon that allows us to "stand" our ground.

Pastor Michael will preach on this story from Matthew's gospel on Sunday, but hopefully this gives a taster of what it means to "receive" God's own armor. The armor which God himself has used and has shown us how to use. Neither the Spirit nor the Scriptures have been given to us to use as weapons of attack. They are sharp weapons though and they need to be respected—used only for the purposes for which they have been given: as weapons which enable us to firmly stand our ground in the salvation Christ has won for us.

As the book of Hebrews says: "the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart" (Heb. 4:12). In the larger context of this chapter, the writer of Hebrews uses this phrase to pivot between the two-edged reality of the scriptures: how they tell both of the failed obedience of God's people, and the perfect obedience of "our great high priest" who "has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet did not sin." The writer of Hebrews uses Jesus' obedience to invite our own. "Hold firmly to the faith we profess," the writer urges, "so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need." In this way, we enter into the promised Sabbath-rest of God's people, weak and temptation-prone though we be.

As with Jesus in the desert, so the devil still tempts us to flee from our post and chase after his sweet-sounding offers of salvation by a different means. It is the sword of the Spirit though—the word of God—that reminds us of Jesus' mercy and grace and which enables us to stand firm in his salvation.

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. (Ephesians 3:17-21).

Take the helmet of salvation (Ephesians 6:17).

The helmet protects us against false knowledge peddled by the devil. In particular, the helmet keeps three things about salvation firmly in our heads.

First, the devil lures us into thinking that sin and its wages have not been taken care of. He constantly undermines the central message of salvation by making us feel inadequate; that some how we need to earn God's approval. Nothing is free in the economy of this world, so certainly nothing can be free in God's economy either.

The truth of our salvation is told in in various ways. Paul writes, "there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus" (Romans 8:1); and "God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions" (Ephesians 2:4-5); and "God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God" (2 Corinthians 5:21). Salvation is a gift from God, free and clear. We can do nothing to earn it. The helmet of salvation keeps this truth firmly planted between our ears.

Second, the devil entices us to believe that even though faith in Jesus' is our ticket to heaven, until then we remain mired in our sin, that we will never do anything good. God saved us and then left us on our own till we die. We can't win against Satan, its no use trying. Salvation does not make any difference in the here and now.

In contrast, when the Psalmist declares, "The Lord is my strength and my song; he has become my salvation" (Ps. 118:14) he is affirming that God delivers people from all sorts of disasters: slavery in Egypt, wars with the Canaanites, bondage in Babylon. Salvation includes protection from enemies, a restoration of order in the here and now.

Jesus came "to preach good news to the poor...proclaim release to the captives...[restore] sight to the blind..." (Luke 4:18-19). To the woman healed of a hemorrhage, to the blind man who could now see, to the leper who had been cleansed, he said, "Your faith has saved you." Sometimes he added, "Go, sin no more." Would he have said that if it were not possible? Paul writes, "It is for freedom that Christ has set us free" (Galatians 5:1).

The Heidelberg Catechism affirms this when it says, "Because I belong to him, Christ, by his Holy Spirit, assures me of eternal life and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready from now on to live for him" (A 1). And practicing sabbath means "that every day of my life I rest from my evil ways" (A 103). In this life we will not reach perfection, but by the Spirit's power, we make a beginning.

The helmet of salvation keeps us from giving up on the fight against sin, we can genuinely pursue spiritual excellence. We can be about our business of proclaiming God's love and care for the world...in word and deed...relishing the freedom and life we have in Christ.

Third, the devil makes us doubt the hope of final deliverance. Christ has tarried so long, why should we still expect him? At the end of the Bible, we see clearly that salvation...restoring order...goes beyond this life. In its beautiful poetic way, Revelation affirms that God will deliver, will save, will make creation good again: no more hunger, no more thirst, no more tears, no more death. Salvation. The helmet of salvation keeps this hope alive.

Satan does his most effective work in our minds! Using lies, twisting and manipulating the truth, he works to create fear, confusion, and doubt. The helmet of salvation shuts him up, silences his evil chatter with the undeniable truth of God. So, let's put it on, keep our heads filled with the good news of the Word of God. Let us stand joyfully, in the good news of our salvation. Let us stand in freedom.

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. (Ephesians 3:17-21).

In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. (Ephesians 6:16)

We are constantly being shot at, it seems. In this case: by "flaming arrows of the evil one." They seemingly come in many forms. And this is a big part of what makes it difficult to "stand firm."

Just this morning, I had a passing conversation with another pastoral colleague who was noting how many directions churches and Christians are running off in to attempt to save ourselves and our churches from whatever danger we imagine. Whether that be the dangerous press of the secular world (conservatives more so), the dangerous injustice and harms of our exclusions (liberals more so), or the danger of membership decline in our churches (which everybody feels), the constant attacks we face have been causing our battle lines to break as Christians and churches scatter to grasp for a salvation that isn't Jesus.

We run off to the armories of Relevance (the right songs, programs, resources), Authenticity (the right influencer/Pinterest/Instagram-informed-style), Better Production Values (the right sound, lights, etc.), Moralism (the right behaviour), Legalism (the right rules for their own sake), Justice (the right upholding of the rules for peoples' sake), Politics (the right ones, of course) or whatever else it might be. Of course, all of these means of salvation are things we can grab hold of and accomplish ourselves by our own right doing of Authenticity, Morals, Politics, or what have you. All of them are within our reach. Things we can see. Things we can do. And, importantly, things that we don't need God for.

Unfortunately against flaming arrows, these DIY salvation kits turn out to be no more useful than the fig leaves Adam and Eve hid behind in the garden. They burn away in an instant. And when they do, we discover that the battle line we were commanded to hold, to stand firm on and hold, has been utterly broken as we've scattered ourselves to the four winds. The flaming arrows did not do this. It is a self-inflicted wound.

What do I mean? As the church fights itself over the best means of salvation to grab for (The Law will save us! Authenticity will save us! Trump will save us! etc.), mass casualties begin to pile up. We've ceased to stand in formation against the enemy and have drawn up battle lines against "flesh and blood" neighbours and fellow church members instead. Not only that, but others—disillusioned—begin to turn from the field altogether: leaving the church and perhaps their faith too. If this is what the church is all about, they want nothing to do with it. As it turns out, searching for a salvation through the practical weapons of this world (influence, legalism, programs, etc.) leaves us scattered across the hillside "like sheep without a shepherd." Why? Because we've forgotten and forsaken our shepherd, who asked nothing more of us than to "stand firm" and trust him to win the battle.

Against the flaming arrows, our Lord has commanded that we stand firm behind nothing more than faith in him, trusting that this faith in nothing other than his saving power will, in fact, shield us from every threat: extinguishing every bright-flying arrow and shiny object lobbed our way.

Psalm 7 says "my shield is God Most High, who saves the upright in heart… he has prepared his deadly weapons; he makes ready his flaming arrows." God is, in other words, more than up to the challenge. As the psalm continues we hear that the enemy—"he who is pregnant with evil and conceives trouble"—falls as God's people do nothing more than stand behind their shield of faith in God Most High. For the evil one, "the trouble he causes recoils on himself; his violence comes down on his own head." (See more about standing firm in the faith of Psalm 7 from a past devotion, here).

The question attached to the Shield of Faith is this: do you really believe that there is a God who in Jesus Christ can still save his church? Can still save you? The conviction that he can—the "confidence in [the salvation] we hope for and assurance about [the victory] we do not see" is the faith in Christ that shields God's saints as they stand firm in him.

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. (Ephesians 3:17-21).