All Prayer

And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people~ Ephesians 6:18


What do I like about this? Is it that we are to pray in the spirit, led by God himself? Is it that we are to be creative? Finding all kinds of ways, old and new ways to communicate with our Father? Is it the open invitation to lay our requests before him? Is it that our father wants to know what we feel and what we need and what we think we need!? Is it that we are to carry our brothers and sisters in prayer, before our father and to know in turn that they carry me?

yes.

But what I love about prayer is that it is our communication with the side of Heaven.  Prayer is our radio, in military terms. We speak, we relay what we need, supplies and re-enforcements are issued according to the wisdom of command. We listen, we receive instructions, advancements, retreats and strategies that can turn battles if we obey them. We see weakness in our lines, we call in air support. We speak in  code and the enemy is baffled. One code is love and sacrifice, a language he cannot decipher. Another is tongues, heavenly language that nourishes our spirit.

Prayer is our life-line. Without it we lose touch and become like some troops who broke ranks and got stranded behind enemy lines, stumbling lost through the forests.

Prayer is a conversation. There are as many styles of prayer as there are saints. Every one of us has a unique conversation with our heavenly Dad. I love my son Noah and communicate to him in a special way but there are conversations I will have with Ethan that will always remain Ethan/Daddy conversations, Noah could never be part of that intimacy. And, naturally, vice versa applies.

It is a conversation that can take many forms including.

• Meditation (Biblical/visual/silent etc)
• Prayers of request.
• Prophetic prayers
• Battle prayers,
• Praise prayers
• Chatty prayers,
• Silent prayers
• Recited prayers
• Sung prayers
• written prayers
• Prayers of confession
• "Arrow" prayers
• Healing prayers
• group prayer

There are so many forms to experiment with and on each of these we bring our own unique slant and understanding. Prayer is much, much deeper than words, it is so much more than "dear Lord Jesus, please bless.... (add names, add infinitum)."

We are always saying something to God. Right now as you read this, as I write it, we are speaking to the father about how we feel about him, about serving him. God picks up on body language and heart language and thought language. Its just a question of what we are saying. Sometimes, to my shame, I am saying, 'Lord I'm not that bothered right now, can you come back later?'. Our whole life is a prayer, half a conversation between us and God. Paul refers to being poured out like a drink offering. There is a physicality to our prayers, not mere words. When I let that lady across the road it is part of my conversation. When I do not, it is as much part of the conversation. Our words and actions are supposed to be extensions of who and what we are. I like to think of Prayer being our trying to get back to that state of openness before God that we had in the garden of Eden, before we felt shame. To know and to be fully know in return, nothing hidden*, walking humbly before our God.

Prayer does a lot of things but I have loved C.S. Lewis' description of prayer from the moment I heard it in the film Shadowlands, 'Prayer does not change God, it changes me". This is why intimacy and consistency in prayer are so vital to warfare. Yes it makes us co-workers with the holy spirit, but it also turns us into elite special forces warriors, ready to sacrifice (and therefore succeed) all for our cause. It is that daily dying to self, through our prayer and walk, that gives us the edge. You cant kill a dead man & you cant scare a dead man. A dead man has nothing to lose. Prayer is the offering of our lives to God. If we set out on that journey, if we begin that amazing conversation we will see victory upon victory.



*Footnote; when we are intimate with the Father and feel ourselves loved and accepted we have less to hide from our brothers in arms, we fear reprisals less, grace is extended to our church family as well as to us. we receive grace and, in ourselves, become a means of grace. Morale in the camp, and a better fighting unit must be the results of this increased openness before God.

A deadly combination

In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.~ Ephesians 6:16-17

Any good boxing fan will tell you, you need a good combination to produce a knock out. Its all very well having power but you need to position yourself for a good connection. A powerful lunge at your opponent that is mistimed can lead to you being seriously off your guard and (or) off your balance. This could leave you open to a well placed attack from your counterpart, if they are reading you and ready for it.

I once decided that I would avenge my brother against his attacker in the school playground. My brother was in the year below me and his assailant had been in his year, was a little smaller than I was and, I thought, not much of a challenge to me. He did have a reputation as a hard lad but I was sure that when he was faced with a bigger, older and way more aggressive opponent, he wouldn't stand a chance. I was all of those things. I should have been warned when he did not recoil in the least at my challenge to meet him outside the school gates. In fact a cruel and amused smile crept over his rather cocky features.

We met at the allotted place and time and I did not wait for a second. I went wading in with a barrage of punches and banshee like screams, a tactic that had produced mixed results in the past. None of the punches connected. The boy seemed to be like the rubber man swerving around, hardly moving his  feet, as he kept well out of the way of my wild swings. Then BANG, out of nowhere he landed a full on right (or at least I think it was) onto my jaw. I reeled from the blow but managed to stay on my feet, which proved to be a bad move because, now I was stunned, he placed many more punches in the general area of my face. Sensing I was at somewhat of a stalemate, I decided I had to stop those blows. So I clung onto his body, as much for support than for tactical reasons. He then wrestled me into a headlock where he proceeded to near suffocate me. Again, being a determined young blighter, I somehow stayed on my feet, though bent double. When he released me I made another "stand" and pathetically  attempted a few more swings but I was dazed and staggered about sluggishly.

He tired of hitting me after some minutes. It was too easy. Disgusted he walked away from me whilst I shouted after him "So its a draw then!". In my my view at the time I had not given up, and that was not a defeat. Anyhow, I'm not sure he could hear what I was saying through my swollen and bloodied lips.

I found out that day that his dad was a semi professional boxer and the lad had been going to a boxing gym since he was six years old. Talk about picking the wrong fight.

So why am I sharing this rather humiliating story with you? Because we can all learn something from these two approaches.

•  I had aggression but no discipline. 
• He had aggression but controlled it and channelled it through tried and tested methods, combining defencive tactics with offensive technique to maximum effect.
• I had misplaced confidence in my own strength.
• He had well placed confidence in his training and method.
• I used my size and strength to intimidate but was no real threat.
• He used my size and strength against me and was a very real threat.
• I used attack first, lost my advantage and ended up being defeated.
• He used defence first, to asses the risk and position himself well, gained the advantage and ended up victorious.

There is no real comparison. The better approach stands out, doesn't it. And in the same way the disciplined Roman army dominated all their battles against the raw aggression of barbarian hordes.

I bring this up because I want to address the three things mentioned in this verse in one sitting. Why? Precisely because they are to be used in combination. Now we are talking about the most war like elements of our armoury. Now it gets serious. Defence is a form of offence. It is tactical. It gains you an advantage, it buys you time to react and deliver killer blows to the enemy. You might wear a belt or sandals in everyday life but there is only one purpose in wearing a helmet while holding a  sword and a shield. This is the stuff we need for hand to hand combat.

I have to be honest with you all. I have been involved in spiritual warfare a fair bit, and when I say that, I mean prayer warfare, intercession. Rebuking territorial spirits binding strong men and all that kind of thing. I am not saying I have no belief in that. Not at all.  But I am not a gifted prayer warrior. I don't posess gifts and knowledge that lay open to me the workings of the heavenlies. I leave that to the few who can. And to the angels.


But the bloody bits of the battle I am concerned with are those when the enemy gets into our homes, drags our family into bondage, undermines our service of Jesus, questions our standing with God, lays guilt at our feet to prohibit further service (because he's scared). These things make me angry. But I've learnt that anger without discipline can lead you into worse messes than those you are already in. So we must know what these three things are and how they work.

1. The Shield of faith.


So the answer to this is obvious. The shield is our faith. It extinguishes the flaming arrows of the enemy. What is faith? Hmmm. Now this is slightly different. If I want to know what tree I am looking at I look for signs of its fruit. If I see apples its an apple tree. When I see faithfulness I know that the tree it comes from is faith. It is an active belief that rises up in a moment but it sustains you for a life time. The writer to the Hebrews describes faith as being "sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see". Faith is a bold belief but not an unfounded one. Another translation has it as the "substance of things hoped for". Being in faith we are truly (and not yet) in possession of it. Faith is as good as its object. If I have faith in this aeroplane to get me where I want to go but this aeroplane has a fuel leak I could be in big trouble. Our faith, however is in Jesus and in our Father. Is there a better reason for a sure and certain hope? I think not.
So what are the flaming arrows and how does our faith extinguish them? We have established in previous blogs that the weapons the enemy has at his call are mainly accusations and lies. So for example when Jesus is being tempted in the desert he says "It is written", to the lie levelled at him. He does not take on board the lie but hold unswervingly to the promise of God. the lie is extinguished. this is how the shield works. At every turn the devil will seek to undermine Gods promise to you, both personal promises and promises from scripture. Faith holds on to God. Faith is faithful.

2. The helmet of salvation

Again the clue is in the name. The helmet is our salvation. What it does in terms of spiritual warfare is not immediately clear. I guess the most obvious thing our salvation does is IT SAVES US! I like this. I like it an awful lot. You put your helmet on at the start of the battle and, if you are wise, you don't take it off till the end. There is a scene in the film "saving private Ryan" where a young soldier is shot in the head and is protected by his helmet. In amazement he takes the helmet off and looks at the spot, right between his eyes, where the bullet has marked the helmet. Whilst he is looking he is shot a second time in his unprotected head. Horrid I know. The analogy doesn't hold in  my opinion in a sense that we can "take off our salvation". If you are truly in the battle you don't question it, you just get on. Salvation is a constant. It is there. It does not depend on us wielding it to protect us. When you are in hand to hand combat you may not see one of those arrows raining down on you. The helmet is in place to protect you in the most important part of your body.
And of course the helmet speaks of the mind. A redeemed mind is a protection in itself. It does its own work in fending off attacks. It is its own  defence system. That is why we seek to transform it all the more into Gods way of thinking.

3. The sword of the spirit

I don't have to define it to you, it is in the text. "Which is the word of God". If you've sat in a decent church for very long you will be aware that there are two Greek words for word.  "Logos" is the first, "the written word" and also the eternal "word" (this is used in John 1, In the beginning was the word). "Rhema" is the second, the spoken word and the "now" word. The rhema word is used to describe prophecy, it has that immediate effect, to cut into a situation and transform it. The word Rhema is the one at use here, to describe the word of God. This is fascinating as one of the few examples we have of Jesus duelling Satan is of him using Scripture to refute Satan's claims and temptations. to hear that it is that charismatic and prophetic "word", the spoken word of God is quite profound.

The term sword of the spirit tells you a little of how the "Word" is to be used. It is that immediate sense of Gods speaking into a situation and of our being attentive to it that seems to be  a sword in our hand against these attacks.

But if we look at Hebrews 4:12, where the word being used is "Logos" it says,

For 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.
 

Amazing. We find that the sword image holds for both "Logos" and "Rhema". The word of God, the logos of God, the written word of God is ALIVE and ACTIVE. It is not sitting in between dusty book jackets. It has a life of its own. In other words, the Logos becomes Rhema to us. His scripture is a NOW word for us and, by walking in the spirit, it is available to us. He reminds us, he brings fresh relevance to us, he opens our eyes afresh to ancient truths that we are long familiar with. This is the sword of the spirit.,....and Oh boy, is it sharp!?

The sword should be in our hands at all time. We need to become experts at wielding it. Not just on our enemy but, at times, on ourselves.  We need to lay bare the heart and its motives, to have it examine us. We need to meditate on it, to ingest it so we are not easily deceived by the devil or clever people. As Deuteronomy 30:14 says "the word is very near you; it is in your mouth and in your heart".


So we are to learn the craft of our sword and shield. And we should allow Salvation to do its work in us. I believe in a salvation that is not earned by human decision and therefore not lost by human action. It protects me. Peter advised us to make our calling and election sure. For this reason, once we are sure that, yes, Jesus Died and rose for me, for ME and yes I turn from my sins and seek to follow his word, we are free indeed. free to get on with the battle at hand. It makes a mockery of Satan's whispered "you don't really belong to him"s , it renders those attacks ineffective, like arrows bouncing off the helmet. The surety of our salvation frees us to concentrate on protecting ourselves with the sword and shield, it frees us to lunge forward with a scripture, knowing we are protected, knowing that we are safe.

If we were not saved, nor sure that we were saved, we would not have much place handling the word. We would be like those folk in acts who tried to cast out demons by the name of Jesus. They had no authority, no place using that name. If we are not under the authority of Gods word, if we have no respect for it then it has no power in our hands against a spiritual enemy. The relationship between the two is essential.

If we did not know the word and the promises it contains what use is faith? Faith in what?? We need faith for the word to do its work also. We cannot go into a battle with just a sword. If we slashed at the enemy with our weapon he would simply lunge at our unprotected side. They work in combination. We must believe the word we are wielding, have faith in it and the one who spoke it. We hereby protect ourselves as we go forward. Conversely we cannot have only a shield, that would be ludicrous. We have faith in God but have no clue what god says or what he is like or what he promises. We would be mincemeat.

But put the three together....then you are in business. Protected from above, protected on the ground and dangerously armed and poised, ready for anything.

The Secret life of a poppy

Your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you~ Matthew 6:6

I was taking a walk back in the summer and, sure that I was alone, was nattering away to God. There was a pre-storm feel to the moment. The air seemed electrified and the light was phenomenal.  As I walked I was enjoying the look of little heads on meadow grasses, the subtle blue and red tinges barely noticeable at first glance and the feel of their textures in my hand. Some coarse, some soft, some fine. A particular favourite grass has heads that remind me of the shapes of firework explosions. And this exquisite mood I get before a storm is an explosion of sensations. I feel at once ecstatic and melancholic. It is a heightened moment and a bitter sweet moment that is somehow quite delicious. I feel undeniably alive, like I just dived into  an ice cold wave.

I was musing about how nice it would be to have some-one to share this moment with, a soul mate, I suppose. And then it struck me that I only ever have these moments when I am alone. This moment is uniquely personal, a private moment like no other. I get this feeling when this mood comes upon me that only now am I truly myself. 'Typical', I think, 'the moment and feeling I most want to share out of all the moments and It is impossible'. Even if I had a soul-mate they would never get this, never get me in my purest essence.  (Then, as I had never walked these fields before, I found a little gap in the hedge. Curious, I decided to see what was through the gap and was there any kind of a path there. What I saw (you'll have to bear in mind my particular frame of mind here) was nothing out of the ordinary and yet it staggered me.

There was a field of corn, still green, filling my vision and in the centre of this field, this field with no footpath, where no-one usually walked, was a lone poppy. Its colour was intense. The  vivid blood red petals against the green corn made it leap out immediately and I was overwhelmed by the beauty of this little flower, which, it seemed, God had placed there just for me. And God had timed it to perfection. I heard, emerging out of all the babbling I had been doing the still, strong compassionate voice I have come to love. He doesn't often speak this way to me so when he does  I know to listen.

I was struck by the thought that had I not gone through this gap that this poppy could have lived its short life of fierce beauty, unseen by human eyes, and to what avail? What use is beauty if it is unseen? Beauty is to be enjoyed, to be shared. I wrote the words God gave me into a poetic form. I'll share them here;

 

And you say to me,

as the rain falls on this page,

"You are a Poppy,

In a field of corn,

A lone poppy whose days are soon gone,

Whose petals will fall"

I stand out for a while and die,

In a field where no-one but the maker goes,

I am seen,

By Him,

For his pleasure,

Only he will see fully,

this poppy,

as it radiates colour,

In a forgotten field

For me there is a resonance in this concept of unseen worth and beauty. I am not speaking of physical beauty. In a world where physical beauty is rewarded constantly with attention (both wanted and unwanted) those of us who see ourselves as unremarkable, un-noteworthy, often feel invisible. And this little poppy reminded me that true beauty is a substance of delight to our creator. That there is no such thing as unobserved beauty or worth. God takes his pleasure in us. That should be enough. Instead we dress up in our good deeds and designer rags and try and get noticed by our peers. Often all this effort is a complete waste and the rewards it brings are totally unsatisfying and, at times, counteractive. This little poppy was in a field surrounded by other plants. It is a plant among plants. There is a great sense in which, as believers, we are called to be in a church family, and to be brothers with the whole of humanity. Yet there is still a deeper sense in which every soul lives its whole life only to God. His delight is in you. He rejoices over you with singing (Zephaniah tells us). It is the hearts aim, the goal of the soul to commune with its creator, to take delight in him. Our life is a song sung back to the God who sings over us.

 Matthews gospel tells us that we are to pray to our Father who sees what is done in secret. Paul urges Christians in his letter to the Colossians

obey your earthly masters in everything; and do it, not only when their eye is on you and to curry their favour, but with sincerity of heart and reverence for the Lord~ Col 3:22
 

In other words we are living this life, ultimately for an audience of one. All else, is a "chasing after the wind" as Ecclesiastes puts it. There is this sense that all we do is done in secret. Secret motives, secret thoughts and secret deeds. But there are no secrets with our heavenly father, every action and thought is laid bare before the one to who all things are open. And he delights in us, like we delight in our children. In the end we will all stand before him and all other opinions will rapidly become an irrelevant defence.

So you think you've got the point?

A thought on the parables. I once read a few chapters of a book that asked some difficult questions of me theologically, knowing it would be unpalatable. I don't want to tell you the authors name or (for those of you who share a theological position with me) it may give you the same prejudice towards what I am about to share. There is a reason, however, that I only read a few chapters. My own prejudices were confirmed, it was indeed unpalatable and I saw no sense in continuing with it. But it gave me one little gem that has stuck with me ever since. He retold the parable of the pharisee and the tax collector. In the original, for those of you not familiar, Jesus shows a picture of two men at their prayers, in the temple. The first man was a pharisee (religious teachers of the day famed for their zealous adherence to keeping every one of the laws of Moses, some 600 or so) and the second a tax collector (a social outcast of the times reviled by the Jews at large, akin to collaborators in WW2). I'll let Jesus tell you the rest in his own words.

To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everyone else, Jesus told this parable: “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’
“But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’
“I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.” ~Luke 18: 9-14

The shock of this parable would have had real resonance, especially when you see who he is telling it too. "Some who were confident in their own righteousness".

In the retelling, the author switches the Pharisee for an evangelical pastor (My hackles were up immediately) and the the tax collector for a liberal theologian. The Evangelical says something like "God I thank you that I am not like that man over there- that man who doesn't even believe your word, the bible, is inerrant, who  has no real faith in you. I thank you that I believe the whole of the bible and never swerve from it"
And the liberal theologian says something like "God, I don't even know if there is a God in any literal sense and I am not sure but I want to know you and serve you"

I haven't done the retelling good service here but you see the point. The parable is about attitude and humility. What really hit me was that the parable had caught me off guard, as it would have the Pharisees he was telling it to, that I had automatically ruled myself out of being in the firing line. If we're honest (and there are good reasons we believe what we believe) we Evangelicals are prone to more than a little complacency at times. That's what hit me in the retelling.

And then I look at the other parables and I see the pattern emerging. The sulky older brother who resents the fathers easy forgiveness of the wayward younger son was the true point of the parable of the prodigal son. The foolish builders are the ones who hear what Jesus says but do not put it into practise (ouch). The farmer, who is constantly building bigger barns to store his wealth in, unaware of his impending death and the ensuing inability to enjoy all that he is working for, could be any of us seeking to build our life in this world with no attention to either the quality of this life nor its consequence on the next. In short, if you've ruled yourself out of being the target, you've probably missed the point. Adrian Plass says, in Bacon sandwiches and salvation, a dictionary of christian terms, that the definition of a parable is "a story that entertains you at the front door while the truth slips in through a side window and sandbags you from behind" This is true, for those who get it. The truth hits you from an unexpected quarter. That is surely why Jesus told parables. Truth is there for those who seek it. Those who assume they have it already do not look and go away scratching their heads. Ask and you will receive. Don't ask and you are left with what you already have.

He who has ears to hear, let him hear.

We will remember them

A couple of years ago my grandfather passed away. He was the most peaceable, sweetest man I have ever known. I remember, at some young age, finally making a connection between the old WW2 films I grew up watching and the old man sitting in his armchair, pipe in hand.
"Grandad were you in the war?", I asked with enthusiasm. "Oh yes," he said, tugged gently on his pipe and smiled sadly. There were few seconds of silence as he seemed to go to another place, a place filled with loss and adventure. I went to another place too, a place of square jawed movie heroes and comic idols dispatching evil Nazis with lines like "take that, fritz!". The sense of righteous justice and and judgement. And vengeance.

Our conversation resumed around what he did in the war. Grandad was happy to chat about flying (he was a navigator) and we talked for a moment or two and then I realised that this was real. That he was really there, in the land of comics and films. Rather too excitedly I blurted out,

"Oh grandad did you ever kill anybody?!"

My grandfathers sweet face clouded over instantly. The sunshine gone, the look was thunder. He said nothing. If my young eyes had been attuned I am sure now that I would have noticed the eyes that I never saw crying, not even when his wife passed away, fill a little. The conversation was over.

I didnt ask him about the war again until he was lying in the bed that he would die in, a few weeks after our last conversation on this subject. That was the impact of his reaction to my childish bloodlust. 30 yrs of silence. I daren't ever produce that reaction in him again.

My grandfather did not directly kill anyone, to my knowledge. The "walrus" sea plane he flew in was primarily there in an anti submarine capacity. I suspect that his sightings of periscopes led directly to the deaths of every man in some of those U boats. There were German children and grandchildren who would never be having conversations with their fathers and Grandfathers directly because of what he did. My grandad, a life long Methodist, and a deeply caring man, a man who in his 70's was out delivering meals on wheels to the "elderly", could never, ever make light of that. His own brother was killed in an incident which would these days be termed "blue on blue" as the American forces bombed, what turned out to be, a Japanese POW ship.

War it seems is sometimes necessary but it is an odious task that peaceable men like my grandad would never take relish in.

I am reminded today that my freedom comes with a price. That men, ordinary men like my grandad fought, bled and died for us. That every day we enjoy in freedom is a tribute to them, whether we acknowledge it or not. This is their reward, like a parent who has done their job by doing themselves out of a job. My grandad was ever grateful to stay in the background, with out any credit. A humble, decent man who did his duty without flinching, without asking for accolade. I often forget his sizable contribution to my life, both in a national and personal sense. I am happy and carefree and he would see that as a reward in itself.

I am loathe to turn this into anything spiritual, I have no agenda other than honouring the fallen today but I cant help but draw the Christ comparisons of a man of peace, who laid down his life for me so I may live in the benefit of his sacrifice with comparatively little acknowledgement. I honor him too . And my grandad, a brother in my faith, I feel would believe it is fitting to do so. To all those who sacrificed innocence and freedom and, for some their very lives, today "we will remember them".

A sword and sandals epic

"And with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace"~ Ephesians 6:15

Sandals were always tricky. The big fat crayola crayons in my 6 yr old hand, or the remaining broken stumps of the smaller ones that I could hardly grip, as I tried to trace the lines of the straps that wound half way up the calves of the Soldiers we'd been given to colour in. And then there was the labels. Sword of the spirit (sometimes labelled "the Word"), shield of faith, breastplate of righteousness etc. But what did they put on the shoes? Where could they write anything? And, of course, what did they write. Some opted for "peace" some for "readiness". I don't remember ever reading the full label "the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace".

When we think of spiritual warfare, I think that our minds almost crave super natural knowledge of the workings of demonic hierarchies and angelic hosts; guardian angels, arch angels, avenging angels etc. Spiritual warfare seems to me to draw the attention of the type of Christians who, if they were not card carrying Christians, would be seen reading their horoscope and attending psychic readings. I am mindful of Paul's warnings about fascinations with angels. What do we need to know? They do Gods bidding. Simple.
 So it sometimes comes as a bit of a disappointment to us that most of the hints we get about spiritual warfare are actually not overly focused on the enemy and more concerned with our character. That is as it should be, dull as it may initially seem. We as an army are primarily to be familiar with our equipment, with our tactics, with our chain of command and identifying and fulfilling our own role. An army is more than soldiers. It is mechanics and cooks and radio operators and officers and ground staff etc, etc. These roles are all part of the warfare. These are all, in a sense, warriors, wherever they fulfil their duties. Where would the men in the line of fire be without communications operatives, or when their vehicle broke down on the battle field, where would they be without direction from the officers, where would they be without food? You get my drift.

And so we come to this rather baffling phrase, which is hard to pin down and seems to address the least glamorous part of the armour (perhaps along with the belt). Are our feet to be shod with peace, or with readiness (that comes from the gospel of peace). I have thought long and hard about the significance of this, about how readiness and peace are linked via the feet. To be honest it left me scratching my head. But as I prayed and chewed it over I believe God gave me a couple of insights.

Firstly, the feet are linked to the concept of messengers. Isaiah 52:7 says "How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those that bring good news". what is the link here? It's quite obvious. The gospel of peace, as it is here referred to, is other wise known as "the good news". I would argue that the "word of God", as Paul describes the sword of the spirit to be, is also the gospel. Paul refers to the gospel as the body of the whole teachings of the christian message. They are inseparable, the teaching and the term. When he speaks of church leaders being appointed, when he speaks of use of the spiritual gifts, when he speaks of being empowered before leaders of this world, to speak with great boldness, it is ALL the gospel. And Gods word, in its charismatic sense, in its eternal sense, in the now word of the spirit, be it rhema or logos, is the gospel, is good news. We warriors are message bearers, this is our sword against the enemy, this is the fight we are taking to Satan and his minions, the news of his defeat; that the head has been cut off and, though the body of the snake lies thrashing around in its death throws, its dominion of terror is at an end.

So our readiness is to be that which comes from the gospel of peace. I played with the idea, no I held the view, that the readiness was to come out of a sense of peace, that because we have made peace with God, we are somehow ready for anything. There may be a seed of truth in this. Peace means contentment and we are now content in him, we have need of nothing outside of God. If we have need of nothing it follows that we have nothing to lose and therefore we are in readiness for whatever comes our way. Nice theory. I am pretty sure now that the readiness comes from our commission as messengers, our readiness to bring good news. If the messenger was to be given urgent military papers, vital to the battle on the front line, and was still found reading his bible in his tent 2 days later, I think that the army may conclude that he was neither ready nor a suitable messenger.

What an odd image Paul chooses! In talking about spiritual warfare he employs an image of a soldier with sword, shield, helmet and armour and he throws in an allusion to a warrior entrusted, in the battle to carry a message of peace. I have a sense that if this message reaches its CO's at the front and they are verified and acted on, the message that these papers contain may just end the war, news of the enemies surrender, of his defeat. The rest of our warfare is just a mop up operation.

I have a confession. I hate being a "witness". Its not that I don't like talking about Jesus, its more that I don't want to engage in fruitless talk about Jesus. My attempts at witnessing, over the years, have been, at times, counter productive. I like to pick my battles these days, choose when to unleash it, at the time (and on the person) that I perceive it will be most effective. At work a few years ago I experimented with being a bit bolder and even ended up praying for colleagues to be healed. I saw a couple of amazing results and I had a bit of rapport with some of these people. There were times I held back when I should have spoken but there were a good few times where I spoke when I wouldn't have had before. It was getting to be quite good and then, a year ago, they moved me. To my shame I was reluctant to start all over again.
The very first of the new colleagues I met, on the very first occasion I met him said to the person with me, who was known to him, about how some customer had given him a bible as a way of saying thanks for his service, and he was joking about how it (the bible) was going straight in the bin and he would never believe any of that rubbish. I kind of knew, right away, that he was someone I was supposed to get close to and share the good news with. I could have done it then and there, on that very first occasion, but I didn't. I would be strategic, I thought. Wait for the right moment.

I have to tell you that over the last 12 months many moments came and went and I passed on them all, even the ones where I was bordering on denying Jesus by not taking them. In short I was not ready, not prepared to go. Like a much needed cleaning chore, my inactivity had allowed an unpleasant task to become almost unthinkable but so much more necessary.
And then this week, at my house group, we were studying 2 Tim 1 where Paul says That 'God did not give us a spirit of timidity but one of love, power and self discipline'. Familiar verses for us all but I had always neglected to see the conclusion of this argument was (v8) "So do not be ashamed of the testimony about our Lord". This is the reason that he has given us a spirit of power and love and self discipline, so that we would not be ashamed. I knew after house group that night, that I would have to change. I am not ashamed of Jesus. In truth, I never have been. I am ashamed of me.

The very next day, the man in question gave me another of those opportunities and this time I took it. I was right, it has made me a little more uncomfortable but a damn sight less uncomfortable than keeping my mouth shut had been doing.

Previously I had not been ready. I was not ready for ridicule, I was not ready to make myself vulnerable, I was not ready to give an answer for the hope that is in me, I was not ready to live under the inevitable scrutiny that would follow such a revelation. Now I am ready, more ready than I have been for ages. Ready to inflict some damage, ready to speak about Jesus, ready to face the shame of how I do not live up to the message, ready for the scandal of grace, ready to share the good news that God comes to us (we don't come to him), and there is only one saviour, the man who won peace when he lost his life. The man who is God, Jesus.

Let the mop up operation continue. Let the devils unguarded concentration camps be liberated. Count me in.