August 26, 2012
Dressing the Part
- Ephesians 6:10-20
- Dr. Teri Thomas
Ephesus was an ancient Greek city, and later a major Roman city, on the west coast of Asia Minor. In the Roman period, Ephesus had a population of more than 250,000, which also made it one of the largest cities in the Mediterranean world. From AD 52–54, Paul lived in Ephesus, working with the congregation and apparently organizing missionary activity into the hinterlands. Later he (or one of his disciples) wrote the Epistle to Ephesians from Rome.
The letter begins with praise and thanksgiving to God for the revelation in Jesus Christ. It preaches unity in one body that comes from God. The letter then moves from the theological to the very practical. Paul says- you have been changed by God. God came in Jesus to change you and to make that change show. Your life should be a clear reflection of transformation in Christ.
Now the author expects to get excuses in response to this teaching.
I can’t reflect God because…
I would if I could but…
I really want to but all these other things are against me…
So the writer shuts down the excuses before they are even spoken.
The strength of God’s power is yours to claim.
What more do you need to know?
Then in this morning’s reading he wraps up the entire book.
You are changed.
How to hit the theme one more time with feeling!
To make the point one last time he settles on the militaristic image of body armor. The Roman soldiers of the day wore it so the average citizen would be familiar with the various pieces and their purposes.
But to make the point that God can change anything, Paul reinvents the image, he transforms it totally.
He takes the common parts of armor - breast plate, belt, helmet, shield, sword - and he assigns each piece an uncommon significance. Symbols of violence and war are changed into symbols of righteousness, faith, salvation, peace. Armor- a symbol of self-reliance and domination becomes a symbol of dependence on and service to God. (David Cameron)
In Christ- you are a changed person and even what you put on your body will reflect that transformation.
Hugh Price Hughes (9 February 1847 – 17 November 1902), a Welsh Christian theologian wrote this short story called The City of Everywhere which makes the point well.
This is a tale of a man who might have been me, for I dreamed one time of journeying to that city. I arrived early one morning. It was cold; there were flurries of snow on the ground. As I stepped from the train to the platform I noticed that the baggage man and the red cap were warmly attired in heavy coats and gloves, but oddly enough, they wore no shoes.
My initial impulse was to ask the reason for this odd practice, but repressing it I passed into station and inquired the way to the hotel. My curiosity, however, was immediately enhanced by the discovery that no one in the station wore any shoes. Boarding the streetcar, I saw that my fellow travelers were likewise barefoot, and upon arriving at the hotel I found the bellhop, the clerk and the inhabitants of the place were all devoid of shoes.
Unable to restrain myself longer, I asked the ingratiating manager what the practice meant. "What practice?" said he.
"Why," I said, pointing to his bare feet, "Why don't you wear any shoes in this town?"
"Ah," said he, "That is just it. Why don't we?"
"But what is the matter? Don't you believe in shoes?"
"Believe in shoes, my friend! I should say we do. That is the first article of our creed -- shoes. They are indispensable to the well-being of humanity. Such chilblains, cuts, sores, suffering, as shoes prevent! It is wonderful!"
"Well, then, why don't you wear them?" I asked, bewildered.
"Ah, said he, "That is just it. Why don't we?"
Though considerably nonplussed, I checked in, secured my room and went directly to the coffee shop and deliberately sat down by an amiable-looking gentleman who likewise conformed to the conventions of his fellow citizens. He wore no shoes.
Friendly enough, he suggested after we had eaten that we look about the city. The first thing we noticed upon emerging from the hotel was a huge brick structure of impressive proportions. To this he pointed with pride. "You see that?" said he. "That is one of our outstanding shoe manufacturing establishments."
"A what?" I asked in amazement. "You mean you make shoes there?"
"Well, not exactly, said he a bit abashed, "we talk about making shoes there, and believe me, we have got one of the most brilliant young fellows you ever heard. He talks most thrillingly and convincingly every week on this great subject of shoes. He has a most persuasive and appealing way. Just yesterday he moved the people profoundly with his exposition of the necessity of shoe-wearing. Many broke down and wept. It was wonderful."
"But why don't they wear them?" said I, insistently.
"Ah," said he, putting his hand upon my arm and looking wistfully into my eyes, "that is just it. Why don't we?"
Just then, as we turned down a side street, I saw through a cellar window a cobbler actually making a pair of shoes. Excusing myself from my friend, I burst into the little shop and asked the shoemaker how it happened that his shop was not overrun with customers. Said he, "Nobody wants my shoes. They just talk about them."
"Give me what pairs you have already," said I eagerly, and paid him three times the amount he modestly asked. Hurriedly, I returned to my friend and proffered them to him, saying, "Here my friend, some one of these pairs will surely fit you. Take them, put them on. They will save you untold suffering."
But he looked embarrassed; in fact, he was well-nigh overcome with chagrin. "Ah, thank you," he said politely, "but you don't understand. It just isn't being done."
"But why don't you wear them?" said I, dumbfounded.
"Ah," said he, smiling, with his accustomed ingratiating touch of practical wisdom. "That is just it. Why don't we?"
And coming out of the "City of Everywhere" into "Here," over and over and over that query rang in my ears: "Why don't we? Why don't we? Why don't we?"
Amen.