Saint Paul tells us today to put on “the whole armour of God.”
Belt of truth. Breastplate of righteousness. Shield of faith.
Helmet of salvation. Sword of the Spirit.
It is all very military.
Then Jesus compares Himself to a hen gathering chicks under her wings.
Christianity occasionally refuses to follow the advice of the branding department.
Armour and a hen.
Yet the two readings are saying exactly the same thing:
God makes us strong enough to remain faithful.
Notice what Saint Paul does not say.
He does not say:
“Be naturally tough.”
“Develop a more forceful personality.”
“Win every argument.”
He says: “Be strong in the Lord and in the strength of His might.”
The strength is God’s.
That matters, because sooner or later every Christian discovers that our own strength is not terribly reliable.
One day we feel ready to defend the faith before the Roman Empire.
The next day somebody makes one irritating comment and we spend three hours conducting an imaginary argument in the kitchen.
So Paul says: put on God’s armour.
Truth around the waist. Because lies make us weak.
Righteousness over the heart. Because sin leaves openings.
Faith as a shield. Because not every fear deserves to be believed.
Salvation over the mind. And the Word of God in the hand.
This is not fancy religious decoration.
It is equipment for remaining faithful when something presses against us.
And then the Gospel shows us what that looks like.
The Pharisees tell Jesus: “Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill You.”
Jesus replies: “Go and tell that fox…”
It is not exactly diplomatic.
Herod is dangerous.
Jesus knows it.
But fear does not decide where Jesus goes.
The Father does.
That is Christian courage.
Not pretending the fox has no teeth.
Not pretending danger is harmless.
Simply refusing to let fear become lord.
And then Jesus gives us the other image:
“How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings.”
A fox and a hen.
By ordinary standards, this should be a short story.
The fox wins.
Except this hen is Christ.
He does not save Himself from danger.
He places Himself between the danger and His people.
That is the Cross.
The wings are spread.
The blow falls on Him.
The chicks live.
That is why Christian courage is never just toughness.
Our strength comes from knowing whose protection we are under.
Christ has faced sin. Christ has faced death. Christ has faced the devil.
And He has conquered.
So Saint Paul can tell us to stand firm.
Not because nothing bad can happen.
Plenty can happen.
Paul himself was imprisoned while writing about armour, which is an interesting detail.
Apparently the armour of God does not always prevent chains.
It does something better.
It prevents the chains from owning you.
A Christian can be afraid and still faithful.
Can suffer and still hope.
Can be opposed and still tell the truth.
Can be wounded and still remain under the wings of Christ.
And notice how Paul ends: pray at all times in the Spirit.
The armour is put on by prayer.
We do not become strong by imagining ourselves heroic.
We become strong by staying close to Christ.
Through His Word.
Through prayer.
Through Confession when sin has weakened us.
Through the Eucharist, where the same Christ who faced Herod, Jerusalem and the Cross gives Himself to us.
Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity.
So there are two creatures in today’s Gospel.
The fox and the hen.
Herod looks stronger.
For the moment.
But Herod disappears into history.
Christ rises from the dead.
And that tells us where real strength lies.
Not in making everybody fear us.
Not in never feeling afraid.
Not in always winning.
Real strength is to belong so completely to Christ that fear no longer decides whom we obey.
Put on the armour of God.
Stay beneath the wings of Christ.
And when the fox appears—
stand.
