The “Armour of God” Eph 6:10–17

This past Sunday, I was privileged to be speaking at a wonderful Anglican church near High Wycombe, which is brilliantly led by a friend, Danny Rodgers. The church is growing and thriving—which all churches say in their publicity materials, but this one really is. It was great to catch up with them in person.

They’re coming to the end of a sermon series on the Armour of God, and I was invited to speak primarily on the “Helmet of Salvation.” Since I was doing the research anyway, I thought I would blog about it this week.

Here’s the passage (in the NIV):

10 Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. 11 Put on the full armour of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. 12 For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. 

13 Therefore, put on the full armour of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. 14 Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled round your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, 15 and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. 16 In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. 17 Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

Let’s start with a few parameters. The language is figurative, rather than literal (physical violence is not in mind). The context appears to be what’s called “spiritual warfare” (though some widely divergent ideas do the rounds in charismatic circles about what, exactly, that means, and how one engages in it or is affected by it). Nonetheless, the writer of Ephesians—let’s call him ‘Paul’—clearly expects his audience to be involved; hence the armour motif. And though it’s military imagery, it’s (inevitably) set in Paul’s Roman Empire world: a Roman soldier is in mind.   

At first reading, the focus of the passage seems—in American Football terms—to be more on defence than offence (it works best to pronounce those in a US way). The shoes/sandals may be neutral, and the sword could feasibly be for either or both, but the other pieces of kit are for protection. That said, even if attack is in mind, a soldier still needs protection. However, those qualifications notwithstanding, it does seem clear from verses 11 and 13 that at least the principal intent behind the armour is defensive—so that you can “take your stand” and “stand your ground,” against “the devil’s schemes.”              

Scholars disagree on the extent to which, when the passage talks about “the rulers … the authorities [and] the powers of this dark world,” it has in mind the tangible manifestations of those evil spiritual forces in earthly rulers and authorities, just expressed by Paul in a nuanced, careful way. As such, that would be entirely unsurprising, given that he is probably writing the letter from Rome, under arrest, and any letters would likely be subject to prior review by his Roman guards.   

How, then, are we to read this passage? The more we think about it, the more opaque it seems. Regardless of the extent to which real-life people are involved in its manifestation—or even as its manifestation—we’re clearly looking at a hostile agenda of “spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.” The latter phrase should not be read as saying that those evil forces are in heaven; it’s saying that they’re in “the spiritual realm.”

The Jesus followers in the Ephesus region, to whom he was writing, clearly needed protecting against these evil forces’ aggressive agenda, and Paul is offering a checklist of appropriate spiritual protections for them to be aware of, modelled on a first-century Roman soldier’s armour. Fine so far, but in what way does that imagery “work”?

We might say that Paul is speaking metaphorically, but a metaphor works by likening an aspect of something more familiar to something less familiar, such that we can say “this is like that, in this sense.” (Parables feature characters and life situations in a similar way.) But what does imagery of a “belt” have to do with “truth”? What does imagery of a “breastplate” have to do with “righteousness”? They really don’t offer the same communicative power as more famous biblical metaphors such as "I am the bread of life" (John 6:35), "I am the true vine" (John 15:5), or "The Lord is my shepherd" (Psalm 23:1). I would argue that—individually—the items in Ephesians 6 are not straightforwardly functioning as metaphors at all, because there is no “this is like that” correspondence. The armour as a whole, yes. The individual items, less so, or not so.

We can read meaning into these individual items, and that’s OK to a point (as reflection), but it’s technically eisegesis (bad practice). What we’re supposed to do with Scripture is to read meaning out—meaning which is already intrinsically there. That’s called exegesis (best practice).

For example, we might read into the passage that the motives of our heart need to be protected by an overlay of righteousness; that our thought life needs to be under the protection of our salvation; and that we should always be wearing the shoes or sandals of readiness to share the gospel at a moment’s notice. These are all sermon-friendly ideas—and it’s quite easy to visualise how they might be applied—but it’s rather unlikely that this is what Paul had in mind when he dictated these phrases to his scribe.

For instance, the ancient world—Bible included—understood thoughts to come from the heart, not the brain. Which makes the supposedly biblical basis of the familiar evangelical distinction between (disdain for) so-called “head” knowledge and (lauding of) “heart” knowledge somewhat questionable, to say the least.

And this is before the preacher even begins to speculate on what “righteousness,” “salvation,” and the “gospel of peace” might mean—risking yet another step removed from the original intent.

Does any of that really matter, you may ask? Not necessarily, but it probably doesn’t qualify for “what the passage is saying.”

It may be that we’re not meant to press each individual item too far on its own, but rather to see what the whole picture is pointing to.

Lest it appear that I’m focusing on the negative and just asking pernickety questions, let’s see if we can’t follow the path of “Scripture interpreting Scripture” for some potential enlightenment (namely, allowing clearer parts to illuminate the meaning of less-clear or obscure parts).  

Interestingly, two items in the list of armour are found in Isaiah 59: The “breastplate of righteousness” and the “helmet of salvation.” It’s almost certain that Paul would have known that. 

In Ephesians 6, it’s we who are to put them on. But in Isaiah 59, it’s God who puts them on—to bring salvation and deliverance to his people—and specifically to come against the injustice and unrighteousness (which the Old Testament generally “brackets together”*) that was harming the people God loves.

*Although we think of justice and righteousness as different things, the Hebrew root words were the same—separating them was unthinkable. 

So it’s quite likely Paul is saying to the Ephesians that, as Jesus-followers, they need to clothe themselves with the characteristics and the values and the ways of being and doing of God himself, that we see in Jesus. They need to figuratively “put those on” to be equipped to join in with that same mission; embracing that Luke 4/Isaiah 61 “mission statement” of the Messiah—of saving, releasing, and delivering, and standing against injustice and unrighteousness.

Interestingly, Paul uses a similar metaphor in Romans 13:14, when he says, “clothe yourselves with the Lord Jesus Christ.” Which he may also have got from Isaiah. Isaiah 61:10 says:

“I delight greatly in the Lord … for he has clothed me with garments of salvation and arrayed me in a robe of his righteousness.”

There’s one other place in Scripture we see a helmet of salvation mentioned, also by Paul, in 1 Thessalonians 5:8. And there’s a breastplate mentioned as well. But he frames both of them slightly differently:

“Put on faith and love as a breastplate, and the hope of salvation as a helmet.”

Paul is clearly happy to use the imagery of a soldier’s armour at different times, in different contexts, to illustrate different things. He didn’t think the imagery had only one fixed, timeless meaning and application for all contexts. Interpreters, please note this possibility!

And in 1 Thessalonians at least, Paul is thinking of “salvation” not so much in the past event sense of “have been” saved, or even the present sense of “are being” saved, but the future sense of “will be saved”—our hope of heaven. Or perhaps we should say that our confidence in the future sense inspires and encourages us in the present.   

So, in summary, what things might we conclude? And how might we apply them?

We ought not to be naïve about the hostile threat of spiritual forces opposed to human life and human thriving. That said, we shouldn’t obsess or take a disproportionate, unhealthy interest in these things. But we’re involved whether we like it or not.

Scripture uses “armour” imagery not so much as a checklist of items with fixed meanings (where we’re supposed to search for a direct correspondence and application to a specific aspect of our humanity), but rather as a package of qualities and characteristics of Jesus: righteousness, truth, an holistic understanding of salvation, and the Gospel message framed as peace. All of which the Holy Spirit wants to grow as the fruit of the continuous presence of God in our lives: us in Christ, and Christ in us.