Which Shield Are You Carrying?

One of the book trilogies I wrote makes sweeping use of medieval touchpoints: settings, political systems, heraldry, warfare, and weapons. I didn't delve into the heraldry aspect of it as much as some other more well-known authors (looking at you, George R. R. Martin), but I love the idea of knights carrying their banner, their symbol, their house on their shield, so that on the battlefield, when they fight for the honor of their house -- everyone knows and sees who they are. There's no sneaking around, subterfuge, or trickery. What's on their shield is their cause, and death is but a small price to pay to bring glory to that cause.

John 6:60-71 records two shields today, two heraldic symbols. More on that in a second.

Jesus has just finished teaching the people in the synagogue in Capernaum. It's packed; many of the people who have crowded into the synagogue are the same ones who have crossed the Sea of Galilee to find Him in the town. Apparently these people are ones who have made it a habit to follow Jesus, to listen to His teachings. They're fascinated by what He says, so they have become His -- for lack of a better word -- groupies. 

We know that they're His groupies, because John 6:60 calls these people Jesus' "disciples," and the following verses make it clear that this term doesn't only apply to the Twelve.

So Jesus has been teaching His "disciples," packed into the Capernaum synagogue, about how He is the Bread of life, and He's said some attention-getting things like: "Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you have no life in you."

The people's tangible, material-driven minds track right down Cannibal Lane, rather than getting the point: "Unless you fill yourself -- heart, soul, mind, and strength -- with Me, you won't have eternal life." And so when Jesus has finished teaching them, they start glancing at each other, shaking their heads, muttering and murmuring. "This is a hard teaching," they say. "Who can accept it?"

Jesus hears what they're saying. He looks around the crowded room. "Does this offend you?" He asks.

Offend: verb: to cause (a person or group) to feel hurt, angry, or upset by something said or done.

This word jumped off the page and threaded through my thoughts this morning like a highlighter marker, underlining news headline after news headline and Facebook post after Facebook post that I've read over the course of years, but especially over the last nine months that our nation and world has been upended by COVID-19. 

Offense reigns supreme. Let no one say a word without double, triple, and quadruple checking it at the door, because someone out there will hoist their shield of offense to keep your words outside their perimeter of defense. The very definition of "offense" means that a shield is necessary to keep from being hurt by the words causing the offense. Offense necessarily causes defense. The existence of one results in the existence of the other. You cannot have defense without offense.

"Does this offend you?" Jesus asks. The room is full of figurative shields, each one hoisted to keep the offending words from wounding. Jesus sees the heraldry on every shield: Offense. 

And He introduces another shield, with a different heraldry. "The Spirit gives life; the flesh counts for nothing. The words I have spoken to you are spirit and they are life. Yet there are some of you who do not believe." The heraldry on the shield Jesus introduces: Faith.

Where have we read about shields of faith before? Ah yes. Ephesians 6:16: "In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one."

I got excited about this picture this morning, and I hope you get excited with me. There are two shields present in the Capernaum synagogue with Jesus: the shield of offense and the shield of faith. 

The shield of offense is raised against the Son of Man when He dares to explain that one must die to themselves in order to have eternal life. Death to self. "I am crucified with Christ; now I no longer live, but Christ lives in me" (Galatians 2:20).

The shield of faith is raised against the devil, who is hurling his fiery darts at any vulnerable spot he can see. 

And one fiery dart... one insidious, flaming arrow... finds its way into Jesus' inner circle, past the shield of a man named Judas Iscariot, and buries deep in his heart.

The synagogue is emptying. The people are leaving, carrying their shields of offense with them, holding them high, and the shields carry the remains of Jesus' words on them. The words have not reached their hearts where they are intended to go; rather they rot on the shields and fester and fall to the ground.

Jesus watches them go. I imagine discouragement weighs Him down. So many backs are turned in His direction. So many have closed their minds, so many gazes have slid sideways. Maybe His vision blurs with tears as He watches them go. The pain of rejection slumps His shoulders, and He drops His attention to His hands, as yet unscarred.

The synagogue empties; soon there is silence. The only ones left are the Twelve. "You do not want to leave, too... do You?" Jesus asks. 

Y'all, I just want to run up and give Him a hug; this kind of thing breaks my heart. I have been on the outside of too many circles, watched rejection too many times, felt it myself, and I'm experiencing all the emotions as I listen to the break in Jesus' voice, the thread of uncertainty. He knows the answer, but He feels the weight of despair, too. You do not want to leave, too, do You?

I love Peter here. There are places in Scripture where I get impatient with Peter, there are places where I wish Peter would just check his words at the door before he speaks them. But here, I want to jump to my feet and cheer him on. Yeah, Peter!! He nails it! "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We believe and know that You are the Holy One of God."

Jesus smiles, maybe He smiles through the tears, like sunshine on dew. This is why He's chosen these men. We believe. We know. "Have I not chosen you, the Twelve?" He asks, triumphantly, maybe. Best answer award goes to Peter, whose shield of faith is lifted high and shining in the brilliant light of the sun, the Son.

But Jesus' all-knowing eyes center on the fiery dart that has flown right past Judas' lowered shield of faith. "Yet one of you is a devil!" 

He doesn't identify the man to the other disciples, and perhaps Judas doesn't even know the part he will play yet. But Jesus sees the shields and He knows that Judas' displays the wrong heraldry.

What offenses has Judas allowed to bury in his heart? He is the only non-Galilean of the Twelve; perhaps he feels like an outsider. Perhaps he doesn't understand some of the things Jesus says like the others seem to. Perhaps he's allowed those offenses to build up, and when the time comes, he sells his offenses to the enemy rather than giving them for free to Jesus, to be crucified and put to death on the cross.

Here's the important question that I'm asking myself this morning, and I hope you're asking it, too, as you honestly and deeply search your heart. In this world where the shield of offense is too easily raised, is tossed up in the blink of an eye...

What offenses are we carrying? What heraldry are we showing the enemy? Because there is an enemy, and y'all... the enemy is not each other. We have got to stop being offended by each other.

The enemy carries around fiery darts, looking for people who aren't holding the shield of faith, and he's hurling those darts at us for all he's worth. 

How about this? Rather than hoisting our shields of offense, instead let's clean off the heraldry on our shield of faith. Make it shine so well, gleam so brightly, that the enemy can't mistake it behind the smoke and intensity of battle. Crucify our offenses on the cross, rather than selling them for thirty pieces of silver to the highest bidder.

The only heraldry worth the struggle... is the one belonging to the House of the Lamb Who was slain. That's the House Whose shield I carry into battle, and that's the House whose honor I want to display on my shield.