The Shield of Faith

“In all circumstances take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one.” – Ephesians 6:16

Martyn Lloyd-Jones points out that there is a shift here. The first three pieces of armor are more passive and preparatory: you put them on and keep them on. But the last three pieces suggest immediate activity. “The soldier may be sitting down in his room in the barracks,” he writes, “and taking a period of rest, but he still keeps on his girdle of truth, his breastplate and his sandals. Then suddenly an alarm is given that the enemy is already attacking, and he immediately takes hold of his shield and his sword and puts on his helmet and rushes out.”

Understanding what this shield is makes it immediately obvious one would not carry it about all the time. This was not the clypeus, a smaller, round shield about 2.5 feet in diameter. This was the scutum, an oblong shield shaped like a door, with a convex surface, measuring about 2.5 by 4 feet. It was large enough to cover not only the entire body, but all other parts of armor. It was a hand’s breadth in thickness, made of two wooden planks glued together with the outer surface covered first with canvas, then with flame-retardant calf skin. Metal edged the top, bottom, and center front so that most stones and arrows would glance off. Often before battle, the entire shield would be immersed in water to make it further resistant to fire.

What is our shield? It is our faith. Faith is not hoping or wishing. It is not believing something is true even though it may not be. It is believing in an object so true that, even if we may not see or sense or feel it all the time, we are willing to live it out. When missionary John Paton was translating Scripture for islanders in the South Pacific, he found there was no word in their language for faith. One day he was working in his hut when a local came running in and flopped in a chair. He said to Paton, “It’s so good to rest my whole weight in this chair.” Paton decided he had found the word to use in his translation. Faith is resting your whole weight in God. It’s like that scene in Onward when the main character walks across the chasm upon an invisible bridge. His belief was only as true as his willingness to put one foot in front of the other, as true as his willingness to rest his whole weight upon it.

Roman soldiers often used the scutum in formation, holding their shields together to create a wall of shields on all sides. Here is a wondrous truth that we individualistic Westerners often miss: Paul is talking to a plural group of people. The “you” in 6:11 (“Put on the whole armor of God, that you…”) is plural. Why does Paul tell a plural group of people to put on singular pieces of armor? Perhaps because we plural people make up one singular body in the church. Perhaps because the armor all comes from one person, Jesus Christ, the God who is girded with truth, has feet that brings good news, and puts on righteousness as a breastplate (Isaiah 11, 52, 59). In writing this, Paul was looking not only to the Roman soldiers who were beside him during his house arrest, but these Old Testament images, fulfilled now in Christ and the church who embodies him. We are to actively take up our shields together, to lift them up against all the weapons of our enemy.