Part 3 of four, covering the last three pieces of the armor in Ephesians 6:16-17: the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit.
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Directions 8, 9 and 10 · the shield, the helmet, the sword
Length
About 160,000 words · an 11-hour read
The Christian in Complete Armor, Part 3 covers Ephesians 6:16-17 in William Gurnall's exposition of the whole armor of God. It treats three pieces in turn: the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, which Gurnall identifies as hope, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.
How the argument unfolds
01
Which faith. Gurnall sifts four kinds of faith and keeps one. The devils hold historical faith, temporary faith is quenched by the very darts it should stop, and Judas had miraculous faith; justifying faith alone is left.
02
What faith is not. It is not bare assent to gospel truth, and it is not assurance. "Assurance is like the cream of faith" — the milk was there first and remains after the cream is taken off.
03
Above all. Faith is the soul resting on Christ crucified for pardon and life on the warrant of the promise. It takes precedence because justification is credited to it alone and every other grace draws its work from it.
04
The fiery darts. Satan shoots pleasures at the desires of the flesh, the desires of the eyes, and the pride of life, and terrors of atheism, blasphemy, and despair. Faith is shown putting out each kind.
05
The helmet of salvation. The helmet is hope, identified from 1 Thessalonians 5:8. It emboldens the Christian to great works, keeps him faithful in small ones, holds him up in trouble, and steadies him when God delays the promise.
06
The sword of the Spirit. The word of God is the one offensive piece. Gurnall argues its divine origin from the matter of Scripture and from its effects: it searches the heart, wounds the conscience, comforts, and converts.
07
Handling the sword. Closing directions turn the word against persecutors, heretics, one's own desires, and trouble inward and outward, and end with a charge to ministers to carry no other weapon into the pulpit.
Key themes
Faith as the ruling grace. On earth faith outranks the rest, because it receives rather than gives: "Christ is the treasure, and faith is the hand that receives it." Every other grace is set to work by it and guarded under it.
Hope under delay. Gurnall spends a full section on God taking a long time to perform what he has promised, why he does it, and how hope keeps a believer waiting rather than concluding the promise has failed.
The authority of Scripture. The sword chapter is a sustained case that the Bible is the word of God, resting on what Scripture contains and on what it does to a reader, and holding that no further revelation is to be expected.
Satan's method. Temptations are darts because they come fast, arrive unannounced, and are shot with an angel's strength at a weak target. They are fiery because of the malice behind them, the hell they aim at, and the burning they leave in the conscience.
The Shield
"Above all, take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to put out all the flaming arrows of the evil one" (Eph. 6:16).
The fourth piece in the Christian's armor is introduced in this verse for us to consider—the Shield of Faith. It's a grace among graces, perfectly placed among its companions. It stands, I think, like the heart in the middle of the body; or, if you prefer, like David when Samuel "anointed him in the midst of his brothers" (1 Sam. 16:13). When the apostle talks about this grace, it's as if he lifts it up and honors it above all the others—"above all, take the shield of faith."
The words naturally divide into two main parts:
In the encouragement, "Above all, taking the shield of faith, whereby ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked," there are four main points we need to explore to understand the words better. First, we need to identify what kind of faith is being recommended to the Christian soldier. Second, once we know the type, we should explore the nature of this faith. Third, we need to understand why faith is compared to a shield instead of other pieces of armor. Fourth, we should consider the significance of the phrase "above all."
Question #1: What kind of faith is being praised here? We can figure this out by looking at the purpose for which it is recommended to the Christian, which is to help him "quench all the fiery darts of the wicked," meaning the devil. Now, consider the different types of faith, and the one that fits here is the faith that enables a person to quench Satan’s fiery darts, all of them. Historical faith cannot do this, so it is not the one. This type of faith is so ineffective against Satan’s fiery darts that even the devil, who shoots them, has this faith. "The devils believe" (James 2:19). Temporary faith cannot do it either. It is so ineffective against Satan’s fiery darts that it is itself quenched by them. It makes a good show of profession and "endures for a while" (Matt. 13:21), but soon fades away. Miraculous faith also falls short. Judas had miraculous faith, which allowed him to cast devils out of others, but he was still possessed by the devil of greed, hypocrisy, and treason, along with many other sins that led him to despair and destruction. There is only one kind of faith left, which is what the apostle means here, and that is justifying faith. This is the grace that makes anyone who has it a match for the devil. Satan does not have as much advantage over the Christian because of his natural abilities as the Christian has over Satan with this faith. The apostle is confident to declare victory for the Christian even before the battle is over: "Ye have overcome the wicked one" (1 John 2:13), meaning you are as certain to win as if you were already celebrating in heaven. The knight will defeat the giant; the saint will defeat Satan; and the same apostle tells us what gives him the victory: "This is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith" (1 John 5:4).
Question #2: What is justifying faith in terms of its nature?
I will answer this, first, by saying what it is not. Second, by saying what it is.
First, negatively, in two specific points.
1. Justifying faith is not just agreeing with the truths of the gospel. This kind of faith does give assent, but that alone doesn't make it justifying faith. A dogmatic or historical faith is part of justifying faith, but having a dogmatic faith doesn't mean you have justifying faith. Justifying faith can't exist without dogmatic faith; it includes it, like how a rational soul in a person includes a sensitive soul. But, a dogmatic faith can exist without justifying faith, like how a sensitive soul exists in animals without a rational soul. Judas knew the Scriptures and probably agreed with their truth when he was a zealous preacher of the gospel, but he never had even a small amount of justifying faith in his soul. "But there are some of you that believe not. For Jesus knew from the beginning who they were that believed not, and who should betray him" (John 6:64). Even Judas' master, the devil—who is far from justifying faith—agrees with the truth of the word. He goes against his conscience if he denies them. When he tempted Christ, he didn't argue against the Scripture, but used it, drawing his arguments from it (Matt. 4:6). At another time, he confessed Christ as fully as Peter did (Matt. 8:29, compared with Matt. 16:17). Agreeing with the truth of the word is just an act of understanding, which even reprobates and devils can do; but justifying faith is a combined habit, involving both understanding and will. Therefore, it is called "believing with the heart" (Rom. 10:10); even "believing with all the heart" (Acts 8:37). "Philip said, If thou believest with all thine heart, thou mayest." It involves all the powers of the soul. There is a double object in the promise—one for the understanding, to move it; another for the will, to excite and work upon it. As the promise is true, it calls for an act of assent from the understanding; and as it is good as well as true, it calls for an act of the will to embrace and receive it. Therefore, someone who only knows the promise in theory and agrees with its truth without clinging to it and embracing it does not believe in a saving way, and can gain no more benefit from the promise than nourishment from food he sees and acknowledges to be wholesome, but doesn't eat.
2. Justifying faith is not assurance. If it were, St. John wouldn't have needed to write to those who "believed on the name of the Son of God; that ye may know that ye have eternal life" (1 John 5:13). They could have said, "We already know this. Isn't our faith just believing that we are forgiven through Christ and will be saved through him?" But this isn't the case. If faith were assurance, then a person's sins would be forgiven before they believe, because they must be forgiven before they can know they are forgiven. The candle must be lit before I can see it is lit. The child must be born before I can be sure it is born. The object must exist before the action. Assurance is actually the result of faith. It is in faith like a flower is in the root. Over time, with much communion with God, familiarity with the word, and experience of his dealings with the soul, faith may grow into assurance. But, just like the root truly lives before the flower appears and continues after the flower's petals have fallen, true justifying faith exists before assurance comes and after it fades. Assurance is like the cream of faith. You know there is milk before there is cream; cream rises only after some time, and milk remains after the cream is removed. How many of God's precious saints would we exclude from being believers if faith only meant assurance? We would offend the generation of God's children, among whom some are still young, not yet able to reflect on their faith and recognize God's grace in them. Must a child not be considered a child until they can speak for themselves and say they are one? There are others in Christ's family with more experience in God's ways, yet they may have lost the sense of pardoning mercy they once had—should we say their faith disappeared with their assurance? How often in a year might a believer be considered a non-believer if God withdraws and leaves them in the dark? Assurance is like a sunflower, which opens with the day and closes with the night. It follows God's presence. If God smiles on the soul, it thrives; if God frowns or hides, it withers. But faith is a plant that can grow in the shade, a grace that can find its way to heaven in the dark. It can "walk in darkness" and still "trust in the name of the Lord" (Isa. 50:10). In short, by making faith depend on assurance, we not only offend God's children but also God himself; we would be turning many of his children on earth away. We would be cruel to those he cares for most and make sad those he wants to comfort. If this were true, much of the gospel's promises would be of little use. We read of promises to those who mourn, "they shall be comforted," to the contrite, "they shall be revived," to those who "walk in darkness," and similar promises. These belong to believers and no one else. Surely then, there are believers who are in the dark, burdened with sorrow, wounded and broken by their sins and temptations. But they are not the ones assured of God's love; their sorrow turns into joy, their night into light, their sighs and sobs into joy and praise.
Second, I will answer positively about what justifying faith is, and in describing it, I will focus only on its role in justification. So, let's put it in these simple words—it is the act of the soul where it relies on Christ crucified for forgiveness and life, based on the assurance of the promise. In this description, note the following:
1. The place where faith resides is not just a single ability, but the entire soul. I've talked about this a bit before, so I'll move on to the second point.
2. Here is the focus of faith when it comes to justification, and that is Christ crucified. The entire truth of God is the focus of justifying faith. It engages with the whole word of God and fully agrees with it; but, in its act of justifying, it specifically focuses on Christ crucified. (1.) The person of Christ is the focus of faith for justification. (2.) Christ as crucified.
(1.) The person of Christ. Not any statement or proposition in the word. This is the focus of assurance, not of faith. Assurance says, "I believe my sins are forgiven through Christ." Faith's language is, "I believe in Christ for the forgiveness of them." The word of God directs our faith to Christ and centers it on him; it is called a "coming to Christ" (Matt. 11:28), a "receiving of him" (John 1:12), a "believing on him" (John 17:20). The promise is just the dish in which Christ, the true food of the soul, is served; and if faith's hand is on the promise, it is like someone who pulls the dish to them so they can reach the delicacies in it. The promise is the marriage ring on the hand of faith. Now, we are not married to the ring, but with it to Christ. "All the promises," says the apostle, "are yes and amen in him" (2 Cor. 1:20). They have their excellence from him and effectiveness in him—I mean in a soul's union to him. To take a promise and not connect with Christ, and by faith become one with him, is like a person tearing a branch from a tree and storing it in a chest, expecting it to bear fruit there. Promises are dead branches when separated from Christ. But when a soul by faith becomes united to Christ, then it partakes of all his richness; not a promise fails to yield sweetness to it.
(2.) Just as Christ is the main focus of faith, it is specifically Christ as crucified. It's not Christ in His personal greatness—those qualities are more the focus of our love than our faith—but Christ suffering and dying under divine justice to make atonement for the sins of the world, as appointed by God. Just like a servant looks to her mistress's hand for guidance, faith looks to God as revealed in His word. Wherever God directs through His word, faith follows. Faith finds that God, intending to save sinners, has chosen Christ, and Christ alone, to carry out this salvation. The one whom God trusts with this task—Christ, and Christ alone—is the one on whom faith will place its full confidence.
Again, faith sees how Christ accomplished this great work, and how the promise shows him to be applied for forgiveness and salvation. Faith understands that Christ made the full payment to God's justice for sin when he shed his blood and died on the cross. All the previous acts of his humiliation were just leading up to this. He was born to die; he was sent into the world as a lamb bound by an unchangeable decree for a sacrifice. Christ himself knew this was his mission when he came into the world, as stated in Hebrews 10:5: "Wherefore when he cometh into the world, he saith, Sacrifice and offering thou wouldest not, but a body hast thou prepared me;" meaning, to be an atoning sacrifice. Without this, all he had done would have been in vain. There is no redemption without his blood, "In whom we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins" (Eph. 1:7). There is no church without his blood, "The church of God, which he hath purchased with his own blood" (Acts 20:28). The church is taken from the side of dying Jesus, just as Eve was taken from sleeping Adam. Christ did not redeem and save souls by sitting in majesty on his heavenly throne, but by hanging on the shameful cross, under the torment of human fury and God's just wrath. Therefore, the soul seeking forgiveness is directed to place faith not only in Christ, but in the bleeding Christ, as mentioned in Romans 3:25: "Whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation through faith in his blood."
The Sword
"And the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God" (Eph. 6:17).
Here we have the sixth and final piece in the Christian’s armor—a sword; and it's the right kind—‘the sword of the Spirit.’ The sword has always been considered a very necessary part of a soldier’s equipment, and therefore it has been used more widely throughout all ages and among all nations than any other weapon. Most nations have some specific weapons or arms unique to themselves, but few or none go into battle without a sword. A pilot without his chart, a scholar without his book, and a soldier without his sword are equally ridiculous. But, above all these, it is absurd to think of being a Christian without knowledge of the word of God and some skill in using this weapon. In Scripture, the usual name for war is ‘the sword.’ "I will call for a sword upon all the inhabitants of the earth" (Jer. 25:29); meaning, I will send war. This is because the sword is the weapon most commonly used in war, and also the one that causes the most damage in battle. Now such a weapon is the word of God in the Christian’s hand. By the edge of this, his enemies fall, and all his great achievements are accomplished. "They overcame him by the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of their testimony" (Rev. 12:11). There are two things we should notice before we dive deeper into the discussion of the words. The first is the type of weapon presented for the Christian’s use. The second is the position or order it holds.
Observation #1: Notice the type of weapon assigned for the Christian's use. It is a weapon that is both defensive and offensive, like a sword. All the other items in the apostle's armory are described as defensive weapons—belt, breastplate, shield, and helmet—designed to protect and save the soldier from the enemy's attack. But the sword not only defends him, it also serves to wound his enemy. Similarly, the Word of God serves this dual purpose for the Christian.
First, it is for defense. The soldier could easily be disarmed of all his other gear, no matter how shiny and impressive, if he didn't have a sword in his hand to lift against his enemies' attacks. Similarly, the Christian would quickly lose all his virtues if he didn't have this sword to defend them and himself from Satan's fury. "Unless thy law had been my delights, I should then have perished in mine affliction" (Ps. 119:92). This is like the flaming sword God used to keep Adam out of paradise. The saint is often compared to Christ’s garden and orchard. With the sword of the word, he protects this orchard from being robbed. Their sweet fruits—either virtues or comforts—wouldn't last long on their souls if this great robber, Satan, wasn't kept away with the point of this sword. Oh, this word of God is a terror to him; he can't overcome the fear of it. When Christ says, "It is written," the foul fiend runs away with more confusion and terror than Caligula at a crack of thunder. The power of these words from Christ's blessed lips to drive him away has always been the most successful tool for the saints to defend themselves against his fiercest and most intense temptations. Ask David what weapon he used to fend off the blows from this enemy, and he will tell you it was the word of God. "Concerning the works of men, by the word of thy lips I have kept me from the paths of the destroyer" (Ps. 17:4). In other words, with the help of your word, I have been able to keep myself from those wicked deeds and outrageous actions that others, lacking this weapon to defend them, have been dragged into.
Second, it is for offense. Just as the sword defends the soldier, it also harms his enemy. In the same way, the word of God is both a protective and a destructive sword. It not only keeps and restrains a person from giving in to external temptations, but it also helps to kill and weaken his inner desires, making the victory complete. A person might escape their enemy one day, only to be defeated by them another time. We read about some people who, for a while, escaped the corruptions of the world, yet because their desires were never confronted and weakened by the power of the word applied to their hearts, they were eventually overcome and defeated by this hidden enemy within them (2 Pet. 2:20, 22). Absalom, even though he was caught by his hair, might have lived to take revenge on those who defeated him, if Joab hadn't come in time and finished him off by sending his darts with a deadly message to his heart. We see daily examples of many who manage to get out of their troubles of conscience—by which they are temporarily restrained, and their sins are held back—only to later fall into even worse behaviors than before. This happens because they lack the skill to use, or the courage and faithfulness to thrust this sword by faith into the heart of their desires.
Observation #2: Notice the order and position of this piece of armor. The apostle first provides the Christian with all the previous pieces, and once these are put on, he then fastens this sword around them. I admit that the Spirit of God, in the Holy Scriptures, does not always strictly follow a method; yet, I think it wouldn't be wrong to suggest a double meaning in the specific place and order it stands in.
First, it may be mentioned last to show us how important the graces of God’s Spirit are for using the word correctly. Nothing is more misused than the word. And why is that? Because people approach it with insincere and unholy hearts. The heretic uses it to support his false teachings and is bold enough to cite it in his favor. But how can they claim their twisted ideas come from the pure and holy word of God? It's because they come to the word and engage with it without bringing the belt of sincerity, and being unprepared, they are not blessed. God justly allows them to miss the truth because they are not sincere in seeking it. The false idea is conceived in their own hearts by the father of lies, and they come to the word only to have it support their falsehoods. Another person reads the word and becomes worse, more entrenched in his desires than before. He sees some people there recognized as saints by the Spirit of God, whose lives are marked by some serious mistakes, possibly the same sins he indulges in, and so he boldly considers himself among the saints. Why is he so bold to do this? Because he approaches the word with an unholy heart and lacks the breastplate of righteousness to protect him from such a dangerous temptation. Another person, lacking faith to acknowledge the truth of the warnings in his conscience, recklessly challenges the point of this sword and dares God to strike him with it. We see this with those people mentioned by the prophet who mockingly say, "Where is the word of the Lord? Let it come now" (Jer. 17:15). It's as if they are saying mockingly, "You scare us with strange threats—judgments you claim in God’s name are coming upon us. When will they come? We would like to see them. Is God’s sword rusty that it takes so long to draw it?" And the despairing soul, lacking the helmet of hope, treats the promise no better than the presumptuous sinner treats the warning. Instead of using it to defend himself against the fears of his guilty conscience, he harms himself with it, destroying his own soul with the weapon meant to defeat his enemy. Therefore, it makes sense for the apostle to first put on the other pieces and then give them this sword to use for their benefit. A sword in a madman’s hand and the word of God in a wicked person’s mouth are used similarly—to harm themselves and their best friends.
Second, it can be emphasized after everything else to show that even when a Christian reaches the highest level of grace possible in this life, they still need the word of God and cannot be safe without it. Even when they are sincere, wearing the breastplate of righteousness, holding the shield of faith, and having the helmet of hope on their head, knowing their salvation is secure, they still need to take the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. This is not a book meant only for beginners in Christ's school, but also suitable for the most advanced believer who seems ready for heaven's academy. It is not only useful for converting someone into a Christian but also for making them complete (2 Tim. 3:17). It is like the architect's rule and line—just as necessary for placing the top stone of the building at the end of life as it is for laying the foundation at conversion. Those who discard their line before the house is finished are likely to be foolish builders.
Let's start with the weapon itself—"the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God." First, I'll present the sword plainly, and then I'll put it back into its metaphorical sheath to discuss it as a sword. There are two types of the word of God. First, there is the substantial or existing word, which is the eternal Son of God. Second, there is the declarative word of God, which varies according to the different times and ways in which He has chosen to reveal His will to humanity.
First, there is a substantial or existing Word, and that is the eternal Son of God. "The Word was with God, and the Word was God" (John 1:1). "And he was clothed with a robe dipped in blood: and his name is called The Word of God" (Rev. 19:13). This refers to a person, and he is none other than Christ, the Son of God. But he is not the Word of God mentioned in the text. The Spirit is more like Christ's sword than Christ is the sword of the Spirit; in the 15th verse of the same chapter, "Out of his mouth goes a sharp sword, that with it he should strike the nations" (Rev. 19:15).
Second, there is a way God communicates through His word, and this happens in various ways, according to how the Lord has chosen to reveal His thoughts to people. Initially, when the earth had few people and humans lived for many centuries, God shared His thoughts through dreams, visions, and other direct revelations to faithful witnesses. These witnesses could teach others in their time and pass on this knowledge to future generations. People lived so long that three holy men were able to maintain the purity of religion through tradition until just a few years before the Israelites went to Egypt. According to a respected and learned scholar's timeline, Methuselah lived over two hundred years with Adam and could learn God's will revealed to him. Shem lived almost a hundred years with Methuselah, and Shem was alive until the fiftieth year of Isaac's life, who died just a few years before Israel went into Egypt. God waited this long to write down His will because it could be safely preserved by passing through so few, yet trustworthy, hands.
But when human lifespan was shortened from eight or nine hundred years to just a few decades, as it was in Moses' time (Ps. 90:10), and when God's people grew from a few individuals to a multitude in Egypt—becoming corrupted with idolatry—God, intending to form them into a nation and community at their deliverance, decided it was necessary to give them a written law. This law would serve as a public standard to guide their worship and way of life. So, God wrote the Ten Commandments with His own finger on stone tablets and instructed Moses to write down the other words he heard on the mountain (Ex. 34:27). Yet, God continued to reveal His will through extraordinary revelations to His people and expanded this initial written word as needed over time. The canon of sacred scripture was to be completed by Christ, the great teacher of the church, and finalized by the apostles, His public scribes, for the church's use until the end of the world. Indeed, a curse from Christ is upon anyone who adds to or takes away from it (Rev. 22:18-19). Now, all the ways God directly communicated with His people have been consolidated into the Scriptures, which we are to accept as the true word of God, containing a complete guide for faith and life, with no expectation of further revelation. This is the meaning of Hebrews 1:1-2: "God, who at various times and in different ways spoke in the past to the fathers by the prophets, has in these last days spoken to us by His Son." These are called the "last days" because we are not to expect any other revelation of God's will. Therefore, we must reject the blasphemy of Joachim, Abbas, Wigelians, and others who have shared their delusion, dreaming of a threefold doctrine from the Trinity—the law from the Father, the gospel from the Son (as in the New Testament), and a third from the Spirit, which they call the "everlasting gospel." However, the Spirit of God, who inspired the Scriptures, refers to the doctrine within them as "the everlasting gospel" (Rev. 14:6). This explains what is meant by the word of God, from which the doctrine follows.
Doctrine: The holy Scriptures are undoubtedly the word of God. By the Scripture, I mean the Old and New Testaments contained in the Bible; both of which are the one foundation on which our faith is built: "Built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets" (Eph. 2:20). This is the doctrine that God delivered to his church through them, as they were under the unerring guidance of the Spirit: "All scripture is given by inspiration of God" (2 Tim. 3:16)—breathed by God; it came truly and directly from the very mind and heart of God, just as our breath comes from within our bodies. Indeed, both the content and the words were dictated by God; for the things they spoke were "not in the words which man’s wisdom teaches, but which the Holy Ghost teaches" (1 Cor. 2:13). God did not give them a topic to expand upon with their own skills and abilities; but confined them to what he dictated. They were merely his scribes to write his infallible message; or like many scribes, to transcribe what the Spirit of God placed before them. This is why no scripture should be interpreted by our personal imagination or opinion. We are to understand its meaning from itself, as we find one part clarifies another; because it did not originate from the personal spirit of any man at first, "but holy men of God spoke as they were moved," or guided, "by the Holy Ghost" (2 Pet. 1:20-21). Now, the power that makes the law must also interpret it.
Question: Some might ask, "Are you using Scripture to prove itself?" The question is whether the Scripture is the Word of God, and you tell us that the Scripture says so. Is that enough?"
Answer: This would be important if it were the word of some insignificant person on trial; but someone greater than a human is here. Human words need arguments and witnesses to prove them true, but God's word is a witness to itself because what pure truth says can only be a sincere and true testimony. Christ, who thought it beneath his dignity to rely on human testimony, still referred to the report that Scripture made of him and was willing to be judged by his enemies based on what Scripture said about him (John 5:34, 39). Therefore, their testimony can stand on its own. If someone cannot see this truth by its own light, they will not find it with human testimony and argument. Not that these are unnecessary or useless. The testimony of the church is to be respected because it has been entrusted with the oracles of God, to keep them as a sacred trust. It is called "the pillar and ground of truth" (1 Tim. 3:15) and "the candlestick" (Rev. 1:12), from which the light of the Scriptures shines into the world. But who would say that a prince's proclamation gets its authenticity from the pillar it hangs on in the market? Or that a candle gets its light from the candlestick it stands on? The church's role is to publish and make known the word of God, not to make it Scripture or unmake it based on its approval. This would be like sending God to humans for approval, similar to how Tertullian said the heathens treated their gods, needing the senate's approval before being considered deities. Doesn't the church of Rome do this with the Scriptures, sending us to the pope for permission to believe the Scripture is Scripture? The blasphemous statement of Hermanus is well-known, who said that the Scriptures are no more powerful than Aesop's fables unless the church's testimony is added. How similar is superstitious Rome to pagan Rome! But we don't need to go far to resolve this. The Scripture itself can save us the trouble of this journey, being more capable of proving its divine origin than the pope with all his cardinals. There's no need to ask for a messenger to bring letters from heaven when the Scriptures already bear heaven's mark so clearly that they can only come from God. Can a person be recognized by their face, voice, or handwriting? Then it shouldn't be strange that the God of heaven can be recognized by his voice and writing in the Scriptures. Do we not see that his glorious name is interwoven in creation, speaking of his power and Godhead, calling him Maker even to those who never read the Bible? Much more will an enlightened conscience and sanctified heart be convinced by the evidence in the Scriptures to declare, "It is the voice of God, and not any creature that speaks in them." The grand truths in the Scriptures are so natural to the principles of grace, which the Holy Spirit, who inspired them, has planted in the hearts of all believers, that their souls respond to them as the baby did in Elizabeth's womb at Mary's greeting. The lamb knows its mother in a flock, just as the sheep of Christ know his voice in the Scriptures, desiring the sincere milk and discerning it from all else. Until a soul is enlightened by the Spirit of God, it may be silenced by arguments for the Scriptures' divinity but will not truly embrace them as God's word. As seen with the scribes and Pharisees, who were often silenced by Christ's words but still opposed his teachings, most to the point of death. Even the part of Scripture they claimed to uphold, the law of Moses, was not truly believed by them, as Jesus boldly told them. How could they have true faith without the Spirit of God? "Had ye believed Moses, ye would have believed me: for he wrote of me" (John 5:46). Erasmus wrote to a friend that many things condemned as heresies in Luther were accepted as truths in Augustine. But the Pharisees didn't truly believe Moses' writings because they opposed Christ, who fulfilled what Moses spoke from God. When the Spirit of God brings belief in God's word, he does so by adding weight to the arguments in the word, leaving a mark on the soul. Therefore, I will present an argument or two from Scripture itself, proving its divine origin. I know this is a well-trodden path, and I will speak the same truths you may find elsewhere, just shaped a little differently. I believe it's wiser to use a proven sword from another than to go into battle with a weak one of my own and return beaten for my pride.
Questions
What does The Christian in Complete Armor, Part 3 cover?+
Part 3 covers Ephesians 6:16-17: the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit. These are Directions 8, 9 and 10 of Gurnall's exposition, and the part ends at the close of verse 17.
What does Gurnall mean by the shield of faith?+
By the shield of faith Gurnall means justifying faith, the soul resting on Christ crucified for pardon and life on the warrant of the promise. He compares it to a shield because a shield covers the whole body rather than one part, and because it guards the rest of the armor as well.
What is the helmet of salvation?+
The helmet of salvation is hope. Gurnall identifies the grace from 1 Thessalonians 5:8, "And for a helmet, the hope of salvation," and describes hope as waiting, on Christ's account, for promised good not yet received or not yet received in full.
What are the fiery darts of the wicked?+
The fiery darts are Satan's temptations, which Gurnall sorts into two kinds. The first are pleasures aimed at the desires of the flesh, the desires of the eyes, and the pride of life; the second are terrors, namely atheism, blasphemy, and despair.
Why is the word of God called the sword of the Spirit?+
Gurnall gives three reasons the word is called the sword of the Spirit: the Spirit made it, the Spirit alone interprets it rightly, and only the Spirit gives it force in the soul. It is also the one offensive piece in the armor, serving to wound sin as well as to fend off attack.
Do I need to read Parts 1 and 2 first?+
Part 3 can be read on its own, since each part takes up different pieces of the armor. Reading in order adds the general call to arms and the first three pieces, which Parts 1 and 2 draw from Ephesians 6:10-15.
William Gurnall (1617 to 1679) was rector of Lavenham in Suffolk for thirty-five years, from 1644 until his death. The Christian in Complete Armor grew out of his pulpit ministry there and was published in three volumes between 1655 and 1662. It is the one work for which he is remembered.
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