The Whole Armour of God
1993 (Year B), 1 August / Pentecost 9
St Peter de Beauvoir Town
There are times in our lives when although we could decide to do one of several things it feels as if there are just no choices open to us. At 4 p.m. on 9 August 1943 a 37-year-old Austrian farmer was taken from his cell in Berlin’s Brandenburg prison, marched in chains to a desk where his death sentence was again read out; pushed into another room where the executioner was waiting, and beheaded. His name was Franz Jagerstatter. He was executed for refusing to serve in the German Army. That really should’ve been the end of the story.
For a long time it was, at least as far as the rest of the world was concerned. But certainly not for this widow and three young daughters. Franz had walked out of his village in the February prior to his death, heading for the recruiting depot. A friend saw him go, ‘God go with you!’ he had said. Franz perhaps knew what was going to happen for he replied quietly, ‘You will see me no more’.
‘My dearest beloved wife and all my children,’ he wrote on the morning of his execution, ‘Many actually believe quite simply that things have to be the way they are. If this should happen to mean that they are obliged to commit injustice then they believe that others are responsible ... I am convinced that it is still best that I speak the truth even if it costs my life ... these few words are being set down here as they come from my mind and heart. And if I must write them with my hands in chains, I find that much better than if my will were in chains.’
A powerful story. Pray God none of us has to face such a choice. For most of us have grown accustomed to thinking that our lives shouldn’t contain the kind of decisions that Franz Jagerstatter had to face. God we believe in our heart of hearts doesn’t want us to make those choices. He will protect us. His armour will shield us. We’ve grown soft. A touch complacent. We’ve forgotten the starkness and the reality of the demands of the Gospel.
Choices are much sharper, much clearer, in other places. Alan Bosack, a Methodist Minister in South Africa reminded his congregation just what Christian’s face, living the gospel. He says, ‘On the last day when we stand before the Lord, he will say to us, ‘Where are your wounds?’. And we will reply ‘We have no wounds.’ And the Lord will say, ‘Was there nothing in your life that was worth fighting for?’
Today Alexander comes to join us in the Body of Christ. It’s a source of immense joy but it really isn’t an easy option his parents have chosen for him. God will make demands on him in his life and he will have to respond. The demands will bring pain. He will be wounded and hurt. They will come in ways he would prefer never happen. He may run away and not face them. But the Lord will be there at the end to ask him, ‘Where are your wounds?’ And if he answers ‘I have no wounds’ the Lord will ask that second awful question.
The armour of God will not protect us from pain. Rather, it will make us more vulnerable. Ever more open, for we will see the pain and the suffering of the whole of creation as we begin to see the world through God’s eyes. The armour of God will not shield us from wounds or magically remove the enemy. David has to go out to fight the giant. Paul struggles away in, ‘distress, hardships ... flogged, imprisoned, mobbed; overworked, sleepless, starving’. The disciples lose face and are upset, when they fail to cast out the evil spirit. All those things bring pain as people work away to bring the Kingdom.
There are giants waiting for Alexander and us to fight. And there will come a time when he and we must decide whether to stand and face them or run away. The coming of the Kingdom demands that we stay. They’re not massive Philistines but they’re just as frightening. Racism is one. Poverty is another. Injustice is a third. The struggle to get the education of our children right. A decent, secure home to bring our families up in. Proper medical care. Oppression whereever it’s found. A job which grinds the very heart out of us. These are the things which wound us. These are our giants.
And God will ask of Alexander, as he will ask of us all, at the last judgement. ‘Where are your wounds?’ And perhaps Alexander along with the rest of us will reply, ‘I have no wounds?’ And God will say, ‘Was there nothing in your life that was worth fighting for?’
The promise is not that we will feel no pain. The promise is that when we stand and fight alongside ‘one of the least of these my brethren’ then we are standing alongside God. So may God keep Alexander and us on the path of discipleship. May Christ keep our faith alive. And may the Spirit give us the courage to say as do what we must do. AMEN