You think you live in a time of political tension? Let’s talk about England in the mid-1600’s.
It’s about 400 years since King John was forced to sign the Magna Carta and the establishment of the British Parliament, but now King Charles I has decided that THE DIVINE RIGHT OF KINGS, a fraudulently formed theological position claiming that all leaders and rulers’ power comes directly from God, should take precedence over representative governance. So he suspends the parliament for 11 years. This along with economic struggles, and a compromised state church that was completely intertwined with the power of the state would lead to a 9 year civil war.
In this chaos, we meet Thomas Hardcastle, a Baptist leader and political dissident (at the time these were the same thing), leading dissident Baptist congregations in the cities of England, and spending the majority of his time in various royal prisons; the first of such visits was when he was 24 years old. Fifteen years later, he will write from a different prison to his congregation at Broadmead Church, in Bristol. This imprisoned pastor writes, like John the Revelator, to encourage his congregation to stand firm and hold strong to what they believe in the face of persecution.
In a section of one of these letters, he calls them not to shrink from the defiant struggle for the Baptist principles of autonomy and conscience, telling them that they are called to face these challenges rather than to run or hide from them, famously telling them that in the Armor of God, there is “No Armor for the Back.”
Hardcastle wasn’t using metaphorical language to sound poetic—he understood Paul’s words in Ephesians 6 as a call to spiritual defiance. The armor of God isn’t about private piety or vague spirituality. It was about standing firm in the face of political violence, religious compromise, and real-world oppression. And like Hardcastle said, there’s no armor for the back—because we were never meant to run away, we are called to face these challenges.
So let’s take a look at the tools that God has given us for this work.
Helmet of Salvation (Ephesians 6:17a): “Take the helmet of salvation.”
The helmet of salvation isn’t just about protecting your brain—it’s about reorienting your thinking. To put on salvation is to put on a new way of seeing. No longer are people defined by their past, their mistakes, their status, or even their present struggles. Salvation teaches us to see with Jesus’ eyes—to look at people not as they were, or even as they are, but as they could be. The helmet guards us from the cynicism of this world, from the voices that say people never change, that grace is wasted, that hope is foolish, and that empathy is weakness. Salvation says otherwise. Salvation reframes reality. And when you wear it like a helmet, it reshapes not just how you think—but how you see everyone around you.
Shield of Faith (Ephesians 6:16): “Above all, taking the shield of faith with which you will be able to quench all the fiery arrows of the wicked one.”
Faith is not a magic force field. It won’t keep pain from touching you, or loss from knocking on your door, but it will keep those things from piercing your heart. The shield of faith doesn’t protect us from the world—it protects us from the lies the world tells us when life gets hard. When death creeps in. When injustice seems to win. When doubt clouds our vision or loss steals our breath. That’s when the arrows fly. And faith—the kind that is grounded in the Gospel, that remembers what God has said, what God has done, what God has promised—faith can rise up and say, Not today. Not my hope. Not my courage. Not my calling.
This world will throw everything at you to make you numb, indifferent, or afraid. But the shield of faith lets you feel the heat without getting burned. You might take some hits—but you won’t fall.
Sword of the Spirit (Ephesians 6:17b): “…and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.”
This is the only offensive weapon in the armor—but don’t be mistaken; It’s not a sword to wound – It’s a sword of witness.
The Word of God gives us the wisdom we need, the perspective we lack, and the power to confront sin not with violence or vengeance, but with truth.
In Revelation 12, we’re told the church overcame the dragon/the Devil/Satan—not with swords or armies or politics, but by the blood of the Lamb and the word of their testimony. That’s how the Word works. It cuts through lies. It pierces injustice. It exposes sin, but it also heals what’s broken. The words of scripture—truth, wisdom, and love—don’t just inspire us; they equip us to stand against evil, brokenness, sin, and injustice. When wielded with humility and hope, the sword of the Spirit doesn’t just defeat darkness—it declares freedom.
Breastplate of Righteousness (Ephesians 6:14b): “with the breastplate of righteousness in place”
“Righteousness” might sound churchy or soft—like a flowery religious word. But in the languages of the Bible, righteousness and justice are deeply connected—frequently even interchangeable.
Righteousness is rightness—right relationship with God, with others, and with ourselves. Justice is what righteousness looks like when it leaves the heart and enters the world.
One is internal, the other external— they’re two sides of the same coin. And together, they protect our core. When we live in step with God’s Spirit, when we seek justice and live with integrity, it guards our hearts from bitterness, despair, or corruption. Righteousness is not about being perfect, It’s about being aligned—with God, with the Gospel, with the work of the Kingdom. And when your heart is aligned with God’s, it’s safe.
Shoes of Gospel Peace (Ephesians 6:15c): “with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace.”
“How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation, who say to Zion, ‘Your God reigns!’”
— Isaiah 52:7
The Gospel sends us. The peace of Christ doesn’t just sit quietly in our hearts; it puts movement in our steps. The Gospel compels us to go—to move into the world with courage and compassion, to carry good news into hard places. And when we walk, we do not bring the sound of war or domination. No—the sound of our footsteps is the sound of peace on the move. The sound of incoming blessing. The rhythm of mercy. The echo of hope drawing near. We are not soldiers of violence—we are carriers of peace. And every step we take, every place we go, we proclaim with our lives: Jesus reigns. Salvation has come. Peace is possible.
Belt of Truth (Ephesians 6:14a): “Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist…”
In a Roman soldier’s armor, the belt was the last thing a soldier would put on— it held everything else in place. It supported the breastplate, steadied the body, and kept the sword close at hand. Without the belt, the rest of the armor shifted and sagged.
That’s the role of truth in our lives. God’s truth is what holds us together—what grounds us when the world tries to pull us apart. The truth of who God is. The truth of who we are. The truth of the Gospel: that grace wins, that love reigns, that Jesus saves. When we fasten that truth around us—tight, close, daily—it keeps the rest of our armor where it belongs. It steadies us when lies swirl and fear presses in. It reminds us that our identity isn’t up for grabs, and that the story we live by is the one God is still writing. Truth isn’t just an idea—it’s what anchors everything.
But we aren’t just armored to stand still, equipped to hold the line—we’re armored to advance.
In Matthew 16, Jesus talks about the gates of Hell, and their role in reference to the Church.
v.29: ‘“what about you?” [Jesus] asked. “Who do you say I am?”
Jesus asks this question in Caesarea Philippi, a major center for ancient Greek worship, and worship of the Roman Emperor, and home to many famous pagan temples. The city sat at the base of a massive cliff full of natural and man-carved grottos; which the people used to shelve totems, icons, statues, and idols.
Standing in the town named for the emperor, surrounded by those who have come to worship pagan gods, by the gates of hell, before the dead eyes of all these idols, images, and totems…a cacophony of little-g gods demanding attention, obedience, and worship…stands Jesus.
“Who do you say I am”
Peter answered, “You are the Messiah.”’
In Matthew’s version of this story, Jesus makes an incredible statement in response to Peter’s declaration of faith:
Matthew 16:18: And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.
It’s in this place of Chaos that Jesus makes the statement, “I will build my church and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.”
So let’s talk about gates for a moment – What is the purpose of a gate in an ancient walled city?
You would build your city with a great wall around it with only a few openings, massive gates to control who comes and goes from the city. Ordinarily the city gates would remain open to allow for transit and commerce, but when the city is under siege – you close the gates.
Gates are primarily DEFENSIVE structures…HELL IS ON DEFENSE!
Hell is on defense in relation to the church, but Jesus says they don’t stand a chance!
It is this personal profession of faith that unleashes the power of heaven in the life of the believer, it is this personal profession of faith that enables Christ to rule in our lives and to grow his church, it is this personal profession of faith that puts hell on notice, on defense, in a state of fear, hell shuts up its gates against the knowledge of who Jesus really is…but those gates can’t keep us out!
Our world is full of gods (lowercase “g”), gods of the market, politics, influence, status, sex, power, comfort, appearance, wealth, career, and a million other things.
Tiny gods all around—All demanding attention, demanding obedience, demanding worship, but these little gods are all impotent: impotent to satisfy, impotent to make good on their promises, impotent to save.
Yet, even in their impotence, even in their weakness, even in their lack of power, they hold sway over much of the world.
This is why we wear the full Armor of God.
We were never meant to run from them, that’s why there’s no armor for the back.
So pick up the truth.
Put on righteousness.
Lace up your peace.
Lift your shield.
Buckle your salvation.
Wield the Word.
And stand.
Stand in the face of fear.
Stand when cynicism creeps in.
Stand when the world tells you your faith is foolish.
Stand like someone who knows how the story ends.
Hell has sealed up its gate and put up its defenses, but they are meaningless in the face of the Church.
Because God is powerful.
Because death and sin have been defeated.
Because the Kingdom is coming.
Because Jesus is Lord.
Grace and Peace,
Pastor Jeremy