Summary: Doing battle always requires protection, but we often try to use something flimsy, not employing the help which God gives through others.

No one in his right mind goes out to do battle without protection. You won’t last long on to any battlefield, whether it be the beaches of Normandy or the sands of Kuwait, if you don’t have some kind of armor. Tanks, flak jackets, bulletproof vests – you must have something to protect your heart, or you will not survive.

In fact, if your battlefield is nothing more than the turf of FedEx field, you’d better have shoulder pads, or those Cowboys will make hamburger out of you! Protection!

And if your battlefield is not a physical one, but a spiritual one, you still need armor. You still must have protection. The question is, “Do you know how to get it, and will you recognize it when it is offered?”

Take on that office romance; express your distaste at what is going on between the boss and his secretary – and you will need armor when the boss retaliates and gives you all the dirty jobs. You will need the force of law – they call it “whistle-blower law” – to protect yourself.

Take on political corruption – the payoffs that grease the skids to get things done; the thievery that takes property out of city warehouses. Take on political corruption, and you may get some heavy-breathing, threatening phone calls. You will need the power of law and a police force with integrity to protect yourself.

Take on vote fraud in the old South; take on the pattern of intimidating black voters, making people interpret obscure passages in the Constitution, the pattern of letting it be known that voting might cost you your job. Take on that stuff, and a generation or less ago, and you could look for “KKK” to be carved on your wall and maybe even on your skin. Take that on and you needed the power of law, a police force, and a federal government with a strong spine. Anytime you take on injustice, you need armor. Anytime you fight for righteousness, you need protection.

Small wonder, then, that Paul spoke of putting on the breastplate of righteousness. The armor of his day was the breastplate – a molded piece of metal the soldier could wear to protect his heart. Without the breastplate the soldier would not dare venture into battle. And without the breastplate of righteousness to protect us, we dare not enter into spiritual battle.

And yet, I say again, the question is, “Do you know how to get this armor? And will you recognize it when it is offered?”

Now I have here something I propose as a breastplate. How do you think this would do to protect us in battle? It’s a screen from my front door. What about it? Would this stop a 9-mm shell? Is this a good breastplate?

There is an old saying that some things are about as useless as a screen door on a submarine. A screen door on a submarine. Think about it; that’s pretty useless, right? A screen door lets the water in. It holds back nothing. It’s pointless. A screen door would have no place as armor on a submarine. But some of us are trying to sail off to battle protected with little more than a flimsy, porous, screen door.

Just about a month ago, the world was captivated by a horrifying news story. American vessels in the North Sea and Norwegian stations on shore reported that a Russian submarine was trapped under water. The Kursk was crippled from an explosion or a collision. That news first came out on Saturday, August 12. But the Russian Navy said nothing and did nothing until Sunday, a day later. Why? In the words of an official spokesman, “Our navy had to clarify for themselves what was happening.” The translation is, “Unless we see it and hear it ourselves, it didn’t happen.” You remember the little picture of the three monkeys lined up on a log – hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil? The Russian Navy heard nothing, said nothing, did nothing, until they could get around to seeing for themselves.

But soon the situation with the Kursk became all too clear. Well over 100 crewmen were inside; the ship could not sail, it could not raise itself. What could be done? How could they be rescued? The world waited. On Monday, the United States and Britain both offered help. Both nations offered to send in equipment. It was not until Tuesday that the Russians responded, to say, thank you very much, they had all the equipment they needed. But on Wednesday, four full days after the explosion, they invited the British to help.

Now the situation got very interesting. Norwegian divers turned up on the scene. They hadn’t been invited; they just came. They prepared to go down more than 100 meters to the sea floor. The Russians stopped them and said they’d already sent divers down. But when the Norwegians went anyway, they discovered that no one had been there at all. And when they approached the submarine’s escape hatch, Russian communications told them, “You won’t be able to handle the hatch. It’s damaged and it will take a heavy crane to lift off the hatch.” But guess what? The Norwegian divers got it free with nothing more than their bare hands.

And finally, at that point, although the chances for life seemed very slim, there was at least one possibility. It would have been possible to pump oxygen into the Kursk to give the crewmen something to breathe. Incredibly, the Russians claimed they had already done that. But they hadn’t. They hadn’t done even the simplest possible thing, pumping life-giving oxygen into the crippled ship to save their men. Why not? The bottom line was written by a Russian commentator, who said, “Our admirals know … that disclosing secrets to [others] may land them in [trouble], while risking sailors’ lives most likely will not.”

In other words, whatever the physical armor carried by the Kursk, its political armor was nothing more useful than a screen door. Whatever the strength of the submarine’s hull, the moral and spiritual strength to protect it was about as flimsy and as porous as a little screen door.

When you and I go out to do battle, we often arm ourselves with nothing but spiritual screen doors. But God offers us the breastplate of righteousness. Do we know how to get the protection God supplies? Will we recognize it when it is offered?

I think we can count on the Apostle Paul to tell us what is going on: Romans 1:13-17

I

“I have often intended …” Isn’t it true that we arm ourselves with flimsy screen doors instead of strong breastplates when we operate on good intentions instead of solid actions? When we fall back on, “I intended to”, we are not truly arming ourselves for battle. Paul says,

I want you to know, brothers and sisters, that I have often intended to come to you (but thus far have been prevented…

I have often intended … How many times have we heard that? “I intended to”. “I meant to.” “I was planning to”. “I was just about to.” Oh, I am the master of this one. Some of you have heard me. Calling you about something was on my list of things to do. But I got into other pursuits, and didn’t call. So you called me. And what did I say? “Oh, I was just about to pick up the phone.” “Oh, you were the very next item on my to do list”. “Oh, I had my hand on the phone.” Don’t you believe it! Don’t you take that baloney from me! What I am really saying is, “I know I’m late and you caught me.” “I should have done this, and you got me.” “I intended …” “I meant to”. But the road to h – e – double hockey sticks is paved with good intentions.

Like the Russian admirals, who intended to get around to doing the right thing, but who were more concerned about politics than about lives, we intend to armor ourselves. But if we do not reach out to receive what is there, it will not do us any good. It will be like a screen door on the Kursk, useless.

I intended to study the Bible; but I just never did get up early enough for Sunday School. So now, pressed for answers, I don’t know anything. But I’m coming. Don’t you worry! One of these days I will surprise you!

I intended to get some help with that temptation I face. I meant to get some counsel. I was going to ask for some support. But right now, I’m overwhelmed. I’ve got problems in spades. I knew I needed the help, I intended to ask.

I intended to improve my prayer life. I meant to find a time and a place for prayer. I really ought to. But, you know, I had to go to work, and the kids clamored for attention, and I was tired at night. But now I feel so alone, so dry. Just hang in there, Lord, I’m coming.

We are full of good intentions. And some of us, on the last day of our lives, will be raising a weak voice to claim, “I intended to accept Christ as Savior and Lord. I really meant to trust Him for salvation, but …” And the time will run out with nothing but a screen door to arm us against eternity.

Intentions are very weak armor. Intentions will not protect you from assault. Intentions will not rescue you from drowning. Intentions without decisions and actions are about as useless as screen doors on the Kursk.

Do you know about Paul and his intentions, however? Do you know the context of Paul’s claim that he had often intended to come to Rome, but had been prevented? The full story is that, yes, he had been prevented. Many things had intruded to keep Paul from going to Rome and establishing new churches in the West. But when Paul got arrested, and the legal system left him cooling his heels in jail for two years, Paul figured out how to use the system so that the government actually sent him to Rome! What I’m saying is that Paul didn’t allow frustrated intentions to win. He kept his eye on the prize, he doggedly pursued his goal, and because he reached out to take the opportunities that were there, he achieved his goal.

Intentions, mere intentions, are as flimsy as screen doors for the Kursk. But intentions coupled with decisions are armor. They are the breastplate of righteousness.

II

Now, however, comes the next issue. And that is, will I recognize the protection I need when it is offered? Will I know that it is help? I’m out to do battle. I’ve agreed that I need to do more than just intend to do something. I’ve agreed that I need help. But will I recognize the armor when it’s offered? Or will I allow my pride and my prejudice to get in the way?

The Russian admirals got bogged down in suspicion. They didn’t want Americans involved – they are too powerful. They didn’t want the British involved – they are the old enemy. They didn’t want the Norwegians involved – they’re too near by. And so the world was treated to the horrible spectacle of a Navy lying about its actions because it didn’t want to accept help from the wrong sources.

Who is the acceptable supplier of spiritual armor for you? Will you accept help from anybody, anywhere, anytime? Or does it have to come from the right source? Does spiritual truth have to have the right package before you will receive it? Pride and prejudice.

A minister friend of mine likes to tell the story of visiting a lady in his congregation. For some reason the subject of the state of Arkansas came up. She began to wax eloquent on the ignorant folks of Arkansas. Up and down she went, telling story after story about stupid Ozark hillbillies and crude razorback hog farmers. She put down everything and everybody even remotely related to that lonely state. But, you know, God has a sense of humor; because when she had finished, she innocently questioned her pastor, “By the way, Reverend, where are you from?” You should have seen her face when he said – what?

We get so caught up in the package that we don’t see the gift inside. We get so caught up in our prejudices that we don’t hear what is being offered. We miss what God wants to give us because He doesn’t always send it through a messenger that is what we might prefer. But listen to the wonderful spirit of Paul; listen to the openness that Paul brought to what God wanted to give:

I am a debtor both to Greeks and to barbarians, both to the wise and to the foolish.

A debtor – he owed the Greeks and the barbarians, the wise and the foolish. Our church has a vision; our vision and value is to treasure every person’s culture and insight. Every person.

And so our vision means that not only will young people learn from older people; but also that older people will learn from young people. Sometimes I hear us lecturing our children and our teenagers as if they didn’t know anything. But they do. They have something to share, something to treasure. If we ignore the wisdom of either old or young, we will be armed with nothing more than a screen door for the submarine.

Our vision means not only that new members will learn from long-term members; but also that those of us who have been around a few years will learn from others just arriving on the scene. I nearly always ask new people what they see in our church, and their insights are very instructive. I learn from those who see us with fresh eyes. To do anything less would be to arm with a flimsy screen door.

Our vision means not only that the unschooled will learn from the educated; but also that those with degrees and education will learn from those whose only school is the school of hard knocks. I am proud of a church where I can find a member who has no college degree, but is still the finest psychologist I know! I am proud of a church where a member with lots of degrees will readily testify that she was brought back from the edge by the simple love of ordinary folks. I am very proud of a church where one of the brightest, most intelligent people I know, when she is in distress, turns to a simple grandmother for help.

God has put us together here to arm one another, to protect one another. But if we are too proud or too prejudiced, we’ll miss it. We’ll not recognize it. And that would be tragic. God has put us here to armor one another, to protect one another. You need the church and its people for a breastplate. A failure to see that would be like the Russian Navy putting a screen door on the Kursk, afraid of receiving what others might bring.

I am a debtor both to Greeks and to barbarians, both to the wise and to the foolish.

III

In the last analysis, this morning, the protection we all need is called salvation. Salvation. Being caught up in the arms of the living God, rescued from the ravages of sin and the consequences of disobedience. In the last analysis, our best armor against the world, our strongest protection against destruction, is to be saved by God Himself. Salvation.

Do not deceive yourself about this matter. Do not fool yourself about something of eternal consequence. Do you know the Lord? Have you received His gift of salvation? It’s time for the truth. It’s time there be no deception. The Russians at first claimed that they had pumped life-giving oxygen into the Kursk. If they had really done so, they could have saved lives. But pride kept them from saving lives. Is pride keeping you from the life-giving oxygen of salvation?

My hope and prayer for you today is well expressed by Paul, when he cries out:

For I am not ashamed of the gospel; it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who has faith …

The power of God for salvation – if you are fighting a battle, you need armor that will protect. You need the breastplate of righteousness. You need covering for your heart. If you are fighting for your life, you need, more than anything else, to know that you are a child of God, owned by Him, saved by Him. Anything less is like putting a screen door on the Kursk. It won’t hold. It’s useless.

If you are fighting a battle for survival, the central issue is not what others may do to you. The central issue is who you are and whose you are. Because if you belong to God, no weapon formed against you will succeed. To go into battle without having been saved from sin is to put a Band-Aid on a running sore. It is to apply a screen door to the rushing tides. It’s useless. Do you have the breastplate? Do you have Christ in your life?

If you are struggling in a battle to overcome destructive habits; if you are waging war against negative attitudes; if you are wrestling with hatch covers that won’t come off and are holding you in bondage – then you must turn to the one who is able to keep you from falling. You must hear the good news. You must receive the gospel. You must find out for yourself – personally, right down in your heart of hearts – that Christ and Christ alone is the power of God for salvation. To try to paddle through life without Christ as your breastplate is about as fruitful as screen doors for the Kursk. Without Him, you will sink. Without Christ, you will die. Without salvation, you will fail. Don’t let it happen. Reach out. Receive. Accept. Wear it gladly – the breastplate of His righteousness.

Otherwise, your little screen door will never hold against the rushing tide.