Swordfight

Swordfight

Ephesians 6:13-18 Ÿ Colossians 3:13

When Phil and Sue Martindale walked into my office that morning, I did a double take to make sure they were who I thought they were. Long-time attenders at church, the Martindales were friendly, outgoing and caring. Phil, at six feet with dark wavy hair and grey eyes was movie-star cool. Sue’s warm brown eyes matched her disposition, easy smiles and ease with conversation. Their school-aged children, Kevin and Carrie, were rubber stamps of mom and dad.

But the Phil and Sue who sat in my office that day could have been the dictionary definition of haggard: both shared sunken eyes exaggerated by ominous baggy shadows. Doughy complexions didn’t help. Phil was ripe, like he’d missed a couple of  showers. Anxious twitchy hands rang my internal alarms.

“Have a seat, Sue, Phil. Can I get you some water? Coffee?” Considering their apparent condition, I wished I hadn’t offered coffee.

Sue passed; “I’m good.” Phil said, “Yeah. A water. Thanks.”

I got a bottle of water from my mini-fridge, handed it to him. He fussed with the top, couldn’t get it to work. Sue’s impatience showed up when she grabbed it away, cracked the top, handed it back. Phil gulped, swallowed.

“You two look rather unglued, both of you. What’s up?”

Phil’s answer was a headshake; Sue showed me teary eyes.

A few deep breaths later, Phil said, “Roger, I don’t know what’s going on. Don’t know how to explain it. But I do know this: I need help. We need help.”

My first concern: “The kids okay?”

“Oh. Yeah. This more about me than it is about Sue, but she’s part of it, too. Yeah, I know, I’m not making a lot of sense. Let me start at the beginning.

“So. Six, seven weeks ago, I hired this new guy. Said his name was John Torrey. My auto parts business was brisk, my regular guys, Greg and Manny were keeping busy every day. Managing the office kept Dottie more than busy. I talked with the team, they all liked the idea of a part-timer to help during the peak hours.

“I ran an ad in the paper, put a sign in the window, help wanted. Got a few enquiries, interviewed them, none were quite the fit I wanted. Then this John comes in and he looks good. Young, neat, clean, courteous. Talks like he knows some about fixing cars, what’s needed, seems to know how to work. Let’s me know right up front that he’s a Christian. What could go wrong? I hired him, told him he could start the next day.

“Well, first day, John tells everyone he’s born again, asks if they are, says how much Jesus helps him every day. My first thought was having a Christian on board would be good, even an outspoken one but after a couple of days it got to be a bit much. Here’s John telling me and the guys and Dot how the Lord says this to me, tells me to do this, spoke to me last night.

“I thought it was over the top but figured he’d tone it down before the week was out. Well, he didn’t. He kept it up, the Lord this, the Lord that. Manny and Greg were getting tired of it. Greg – he’s been with me for seven years now, really dependable – came to me, asked if I could kind of tell John to cool it on the Jesus stuff, he and Manny would appreciate it. I said sure. So, I asked John to have a chat in my office.

“I started off by saying this was a place of business, not a church, asked him to tone down his talk about the Lord.

“Well, he gives me this scowl, squints at me like I’d just killed his cat, gives me this heavy breathing, almost snorting. Right away, I didn’t like where this was going.

“Anyway, John baps his fist on my desk and raises his voice. Phil, he says, how can you say that! The Lord sent me here to tell you, everyone who works for you, every one of your customers about Him, about his salvation, how he has a plan for their lives!

“Now he’s pounding on my desk, giving me this rapid-fire pitch, Phil, you know if I don’t tell ‘em about Jesus, they’re gonna go to hell! You know that, Phil! You’re a Christian! Don’t you want your people to know Jesus? Now he’s hollering, Jesus sent me here! Sent me to save Greg and Manny! Dottie! Sent me to save your customers!

“I told him to calm down, get a grip, we weren’t going to get anywhere with him yelling at me.”

“And did he cool down?”

“Yeah. He acted a little embarrassed. Said he got it, said he’d cool it. Apologized. I thought we were good and sent him back to work. The next day just as we were closing, Dottie tells me our cash drawer came up short by twenty dollars.”

“Let’s back up a minute, Phil. How is it John knew you were a Christian?”

“Not sure. I mean, it’s no secret. I’ve got that picture of Jesus it’s on the wall behind my desk, you know, the one of him holding a lamb. Greg and Manny know, and Dot, she’s a Christian too, she knew. Just took it for granted. Never thought to ask.”

“What happened after you discovered your cash shortage?”

“Same thing happened the next day. Dottie tells me the cash drawer is short another $20. I told her when we open up the next day, take the twenties out, put ‘em in the strongbox instead of the register. Keep it locked. We can get twenties if we need them, might be inconvenient but we can work with it. Most folks use credit cards these days anyway. Asked Dottie to keep an eye on John.

“Well, next morning I’m in the stock room, you know, it’s right behind the front counter and I see John go up to the cash drawer, open it, take out two tens and stuff ‘em in his pocket. I come out of the stock room and say, John, my office!

“He says, Now? and I say, Now. He comes in, I tell him to close the door and take a seat. I tell him I just saw him take money, tell him to give the money back. What he gives me is this innocent look, like, who, me? I say, the money, John and hold my hand out. Well, he stands up, hands me the money and says, I quit and bam! he’s out the door.”

“Hm. I take it that wasn’t the end of the story.”

“Not hardly. The next night, a pizza delivery guy shows up at our house after dark, says he has an order of four pizzas and a six-pack of sodas for us. I tell him we didn’t order any pizzas. Or sodas.”

“Ah. John was telling you he knew where you lived?”

“Right. Next night, after ten, we hear Carrie scream, Daddy, Daddy, someone’s looking in my window! I grab a flashlight, run outside, around to the side of the house to her window. There’s no one there, but there’s footprints trampled all over the flower bed.”

Sue said, “Then other things started to happen, too. Notes in the mailbox, even pinned one to the front door.”

“Threats?”

“No, not threats. Just allusions, like warnings from the Psalms but not. Like, those who run after other gods will suffer, the wicked are like lions wanting to throw me to the ground, although the wicked plot evil schemes they cannot succeed. Like that.

“Since then, I’ve found broken flower pots in the yard. A good-sized limb was broken from the tree out front. Something got spilled on the lawn, killed a big patch of grass.”

Phil added, “I think he’s been lurking in the bushes outside our house at night, watching us. I’ve found broken limbs on the shrubs, plants more trampled footprints. Last week, the garage door got tagged with spray paint, An eye for an eye. It is mine to repay. I’m sure it was him.

“At this point, we have no idea what this guy might be capable of. I’ve gone from ticked off to angry to paranoid and now, scared. Sue and the kids are more scared than I am.”

“Have you sought legal help?”

“Yeah, I went to see Ed Baumgarten, you know him from church, he’s the deputy chief at the police department. Well, Ed says there’s not a lot we can do without evidence. But he can do a background check on John, see what turns up. I gave him what little information I had on John’s job application, address, phone, social and all. Turns out, all the info John gave me was fake. No such address, phone number is for a local business, they never heard of John. Phony social security number. Non-existent references.

“Ed asks me if I can come up with something John handled at the shop, might have his fingerprints on it. Sure enough, there was a coffee mug John used.”

“Ed ran the prints, found John isn’t John Torrey at all but Bradley Stanger. Comes from Charles City, Virginia. Ed checked with the Charles City PD, learned Bradley had a string of arrests, had a variety of charges for disturbing the peace, check kiting, shoplifting, burglary. And, there were two arrests for assault. Conviction bought him some jail time.

Ed thought to do a check for California, found a few more petty crimes and two 5150 holds, one in Santa Barbara, another in Fresno.”

“Wow. Talk about upsetting. Folks, I am so sorry this is happening to you.”

Phil said, “Thank you, Roger. But there’s more. Ed and I talked about getting a restraining order but without an address, there’s no way to serve him. Ed said the patrol officers had a BOLO on him, you know, Be On the Lookout. Nothing so far.”

“When’s the last time he bothered you?”

“Monday night. We put our trash out for collection, found a bag of garbage dumped upside down on our front porch in the morning. That was captured on the doorbell cam. No question it was him.”

“Wow. I can see why you’re unglued. But what you’re telling me is about harassment, vandalism. Legal stuff. I’m not sure why you came to me.”

Sue said, “It’s ruining our home life, Roger. We’re all testy, walking on eggshells. Phil and I snap at each other, the kids squabble constantly, complain about everything. None of us sleep well. We’ve lost our perspective, our anchor. Can’t seem to find our way back.”

Phil added, “Can’t sleep at night, been keeping Sue awake. Got so bad I took to sleeping on the living room couch. ‘Cept I’m not sleeping.”

I asked, “Nightmares?”

“Oh, yeah. Awful things. I try to read myself to sleep but I can’t concentrate. Spend too many hours staring at the ceiling.”

“Phil, tell me about your dreams. Nightmares.”

“Mmm. They’re all pretty much the same theme. They take place at night, something’s lurking in the shadows, watching, waiting. I know sooner or later, it’s going to get me. Whenever I pass by a dark place, I feel it there, reaching out for me. Last night, whatever it was grabbed my arm. I tore myself out of its grip and ran. Woke up goggle-eyed. Sue said she heard me scream.”

“Rough way to live, folks. Tell me, have you prayed about this?“

Sue said, “Some, ‘cept it feels like we’re talking to a blank wall.”

Phil added, “Prayer feels self-defeating, like if I pray about it, then I have to think about it. Which I don’t want to do.”

“And you’re here because it has a spiritual side?”

“Yeah. Well, Sue picked up on that. She threatened me with bodily harm, said, Phil, if we don’t go see Pastor Berlingson today, I’m going to wallop you with a frying pan! So here we are. That frying pan is awful big.”

Thin smiles signaled thin hope.
“Let’s take care of the prayer before we go any farther with this.” I took their hands in mine and prayed for the Lord to pour out his wisdom and protection, peace and grace, for healing to the family’s battered spirits.

“Okay folks. Let’s let God’s word be our authority on how we proceed.” I handed my Bible to Phil. Let’s begin with 1 Peter 5:8 through 10, Phil, if you would, please.”

Pages ruffled, stopped. As Phil read, I saw Sue wince at the thought of Satan prowling like a roaring lion, looking for someone to devour. She seemed to gain little comfort at hearing how the entire family of believers endured the same distress and that the purpose was to make men and women strong in their faith.

I asked, “You find a little resonance there, folks?”

“Ah. Yeah. More than a little. Sounds like ‘ol Bradley had some supernatural assistance. But I like the reminder how God will restore us and make us strong, firm and steadfast.”

“Good. Phil, Ephesians 4:26-27, if you would.”

Phil read the passage, then said, “Ah, like, I need to be careful not to sin when I’m angry. You mean, like go out and strangle the son of a gun when I’m really mad at him? But then that’d pretty much give the devil a foothold against me, wouldn’t it?”

“That’s extreme. More realistically, what about replaying scenarios of vengeance in your mind again and again so it affects your wife and children?”

Phil’s bark was a jolt. “Don’t I have a right to be angry!”

“Of course you do. But what’s the issue here, anger or foothold?”

“It’s both! Well, at this point, maybe more of a foothold thing.”

“Phil, my friend, have you been trying to solve a spiritual problem without taking it to the one who blesses your spirit?”

“Sheesh, Roger, don’t rub it in.”

Sue asked, “Roger, what’s next?”

“Ephesians 6, 10 through 18.

“Ah,” she said. “I know what’s coming. Let me read this.” Phil handed the Bible to his wife. More pages ruffled. Sue said, “Here, got it,” and read Paul’s advisory on being strong in the Lord’s power, how the armor of God protects the faithful ones from evil along with a reminder that that enemy is not, in this case, flesh and blood but supernatural forces we really can’t identify much less understand. I thought – not for the first time – how in situations like these, God gives us just enough to work with, keeping the eventual outcome in his own hands.

When Sue read about the armor itself: the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, the footgear of peace, the shield of faith and last and best, the sword of God’s word carried by the Holy Spirit, I watched Phil put his face in his hands, give his head a gentle shake. The last line of Paul’s advice was to stay alert and pray for all whose faith is in Jesus.

Phil said, “That’s a tall order, Roger. And I’ve got to say, I don’t get it all.”

“How ‘bout I break it down for you.”

“Yeah. Do that. Please.”

“Okay. Tell me, in this passage, who our struggle is against?”

Sue said, “Well, Paul says it’s not against flesh and blood but against spiritual forces – whatever they are. Things that do their work in darkness.”

“You know how in the gospels and in Paul’s letters, we find comparisons to everyday life that demonstrate the underlying truths. Paul and Jesus referenced every day customs and practices people would see and hear as they went about their lives. Because Israel was occupied by Rome – that would have been at least six, seven thousand soldiers or so – Roman armor would have been a familiar sight.

“I’ll go piece by piece, start from the ground up. Soldiers’ boots were made of thick leather. The soles were heavy and reinforced with iron hobnails. Laced up above and ankles, they provided a sturdy foundation to endure miles of marching and to hold strong in battle.

“Next, Roman soldiers wore a thick leather belt around their waist. But the translation, ‘with the belt of truth buckled around your waist’ is not quite accurate. The Greek actually reads, ‘having girded up your loins,’ which refers to the abdomen, that’s  from just under the rib cage all the way down to the upper thigh.

“Next up. The breastplate was sometimes solid sheet metal, sometimes chain mail, which protected the shoulders and torso, back and front.

“Now the shield. Romans soldiers employed several designs of shields but one in particular, the parma, fits with Paul’s description. This shield was circular, about fourteen inches across, made with layers of wood and faced with layers of leather.

“Next item. Roman helmets protected the head, the back of the neck and the sides of the face, and had a reinforced ridge across the forehead.

“Okay. Now, the sword. Paul says this is a short sword the Romans called a gladius. In contrast to the large battle sword, the spatha, this one was only two feet long or so and was used for close one-to-one fighting, specifically aimed to slip under the opponent’s armor into his gut.

Sue accented another wince with an “Eww.”

“So, folks, still with me?”

There was a note of encouragement in Phil’s voice. “Sure, keep going. Looks like the Romans were thorough when it came to protecting their troops. But what strikes me about Paul’s list is that it’s all defensive except for the sword.”

Sue said, “The sword of God’s word. That’s what Jesus used when he was tempted by Satan in the wilderness!”

“’Tis indeed. Think of the power of that exchange. Satan tempts Jesus three times, Jesus responds with three lines Scripture. No dialog. No conversation. Satan had no comeback. No defense.”

“It’s hard to argue with truth,” said Sue.

“Now, consider this: did Jesus give Satan what he wanted?”

“No, no way.”

“What do you think Bradley wants?”

Sue’s answer was almost a shout. “He wants to upset us! Hurt us!”

Phil: “He wants to know his actions have some effect.”

“Just so. He wants to know he’s been successful. Have you given him that satisfaction?”

Long moments passed. Phil answer was cloaked in uncertainty. “Not overtly. I mean, we haven’t gone outside, yelling threats into the night. But he’s got to know he’s had some effect.”

“What do you think will happen if you let him know he’s being successful in disrupting your lives?”

“Oh, no question. He’ll keep doing it.”

“So, what is called for here is an unassailable defense. Consider this. Hebrews 4:12 likens God’s word to a sword, saying it alive and active, able to bring truth to the heart. In Revelation two, where Jesus admonishes the church in Pergamum, he likens his words to a sharp, doubled-edged sword. Scripture is not just words on a page. It is powerful not only because it is true, but because it conveys the very Spirit of God!

“Okay. Back to the task at hand. Let me tell you how I understand Paul’s comparatives. First, he likens truth as a wrap-around for your midsection which is also the location of the upper and lower intestines. The Greek term for that section of anatomy is splanchna which, two thousand years ago, splanchna was understood as the locus of one’s feelings. The breastplate of righteousness protects the upper torso, your heart and vital organs, which is the area of the body understood to be the locus of the spirit. The helmet of salvation protects the head, the locus of thoughts. Rugged footgear is cobbled with peace and hobnailed with the Gospel which allows the wearer to stand without giving in to fear. Take note of Paul’s emphasis on stand. He repeats it three times in two verses. Sort of helps you understand how important peace is when you’re being assaulted. The shield of faith? Roman soldiers soaked their leather on shields with water which served to quench the fiery arrows from the enemy. Well, we ‘soak’ our shields with faith which serves to quench the fiery arrows from our enemy. Next is the sword, which is the Word of God. The Bible. His Word.”

Phil washboarded his brow. “Whoa up just a sec. About these fiery arrows. So what are they. And in real terms, how does this work?”

“Phil, what brought you here, what you’re experiencing right now is an example of ‘fiery arrows.’ These are words and actions that burn your spirit, that cause anguish and distress. Assaults like this disrupt lives, cause wounds to the spirit – especially to those who are not sealed in the Spirit. ”

“Okay, Roger, just what does that mean, ‘sealed?’”

“Back up a few verses to Ephesians 4, read verse 30.”

Sue read Paul’s advisory aloud: “Do not grieve the Holy Spirit with whom you were sealed for the day of redemption.”

“In ancient times, a seal was a kind of an emblem or symbol that could leave an imprint on wax or clay. A king’s seal carried the king’s authority. By giving a document to a soldier or even a messenger, that man was regarded as having the same power and authority as the king himself.”

It was like a light went on in Phil’s eyes. “Yes! Like where Jesus tells his disciples, when the Spirit of truth shows up, he doesn’t speak on his own but only what he hears from Jesus, from the Father. Like where he says he and the Father are one.”

Sue said, “Roger, this armor is so cool. It’s like God’s truth protects my feelings, God’s righteousness protects my spirit, Jesus’ salvation protects my thoughts, God’s peace lets me face my enemy without fear, and my faith in Jesus defends me against spiritual assault. Then when the enemy comes close, God’s word gives me the weapon I need to defeat him. Wow!”

Phil said, “It’s like everything Jesus does, who he is, protects us. Here comes Satan armed with the world’s criteria, ready to slam crisis into our lives, wanting to forestall us from bringing the whole thing to Jesus. Then Jesus comes along to show us one more time how the Kingdom of God has a different answer. A better answer!”

“What you say is true but I must give you a caution here, folks. This is not some hocus-pocus plug-in formula. It is not a ritual or routine you perform with the expectation that once you’ve dressed yourself in God’s armor it, you will automatically receive the result you want. That’s magical thinking. Instead, this is a way of understanding, of realizing the power of God’s word, the reliability of your faithful relationship with Jesus and the guardianship of the indwelling Holy Spirit. We together here?”

Two nods, two affirmations.

“Aha. Okay. I think you’ve got this gist of this, folks but we’re not quite done. Tell me how you’re feeling about Bradley.”

Phil’s reply was an explosive, “Shoot! I just want to dropkick that son of a gun over the goalposts of life!”

“Sue?”
“I am angry. Very angry, mostly about how he’s frightened our children. But yeah, darn right, I want him to be arrested, punished for what he’s done.”

“So are we talking about justice … or revenge?”

If ever there was a demonstration of the word ‘sheepish,’ Sue and Phil made it.

“Oh, rats. Sorry, Roger,” said Phil. “Revenge. No question.”

“Me, too, said Sue. “I want him to hurt. My thoughts for justice for Brad is secondary.”

“So the real issue here is unforgiveness.”

Sheepishness gave way to fidgeting. Sue flapped her hands, dropped them to her lap, gave her head a shake. Phil looked at everything in my office but me. He finally said, “Yeah, that’s about it. I’ve got a boatload of unforgiveness for ‘ol Brad.”

“Sue?”

“Yep. Me too.”

“Does Bradley know that?”

“Not likely. No.”

“So how does your unforgiveness affect him?”

“Mmm. Doesn’t.”

“So the purpose of your unforgiveness is?”

Long moments of quiet passed until Phil finally broke it: “It just feels like that’s what I should do. Like it’s a kind of protection. I wish I could see some sort of logic to it but I don’t.”

Sue nailed it. “It feels like it’s supposed to protect me from harm. But it can’t. And it doesn’t. So I carry it around anyway, nurture it with the idea that someday, maybe, it just might work, I’ll somehow get my licks in. Like Phil said, it’s not logical.”

My question, “Think that sounds kind of like of magical thinking?” got two uncomfortable nods for an answer.

“What do you believe Jesus’ remedy is? The one that actually delivers?”

There was a long silence again. When Phil looked at me, I read sorrow and regret on his face. “Isn’t there a verse in Matthew or Mark that says if we hold anything against anyone, we should forgive them the same way God forgives us?”

“There is,” I said. “Check Colossians 3:13.”

Sue busied Bible pages again. ‘Paul says, ‘Bear with each other and forgive one another as the Lord forgives us.’

“Read the rest of the verse …”

“Um. Like, ‘love binds us together in perfect unity?”

Phil exploded, “Roger, doggone it, I’m not about to love this Bradley, not after what he’s done!”

“I understand. Perhaps you can think of it as a goal instead of an immediate action?”

“Maybe. I still want to dropkick him.”

“Seems to me we could use some biblical perspective here. How about we recite the Lord’s Prayer together.”

We bowed our heads and said the mainstay prayer we learned as children. When we came to the line, forgive us our debts as we also have forgiven our debtors, I heard Sue choke. After the amen, I saw she had tears in her eyes.

“Tell me what you’re thinking, Sue.”

“Forgiveness. It couldn’t be more clear. Jesus said it. Forgive our enemies. People who wrong us. The same way we were forgiven by him. That’s what brings healing.”

Phil tried to speak, croaked instead, finally got out what he wanted to say. “Somewhere in Romans twelve it says leave revenge to the Lord. Forgive your enemies. Can’t tell you how that goes against my grain.”

“Do you trust God?”

“Yes.” A duet.

“You comfortable to leave it there?

A second duet, this one with Charlie Brown wobbly smiles. “Yeah.”

“Let’s finish our prayer.” With our heads bowed, Phil uttered a powerful request for God the Father to guard our hearts and minds in Jesus Christ with his perfect peace as we make our way, hand in hand with Jesus, through the valley of shadow. He finished with, “Grant us, Lord, wisdom and direction and above all, an abundance of your peace for Sue and me and our children … and Lord, help us to forgive Bradley, who I suspect does not really know what he is doing.”

“So, folks … questions? Last thoughts?”

Sue pruned her face; her signal that we were done. “I think we’re good to go. At least we’ve got a better picture of what’s going on, got some of God’s spiritual equipment to work with.”

Phil said, “What are you smiling at, Roger?”

“Ah. I love it when the Holy Spirit shows up.“

The couple left my office with a noticeable bounce in their steps. I was confident some of the burden had been lifted. Hope that comes from the heart of God is powerful stuff.

After our Sunday service, Phil and Sue, children in tow, bee-lined for me. Phil boomed, “Roger! I slept all night! No dreams!” The dark circles that had zombiefied Phil’s eyes at our last meeting were diminished.

“Any word on Bradley?”

Sue said, “No, not yet. But we haven’t had any vandalism in past couple of nights. And we’ve got a couple of kids here who have something they’d like to say to you.”

Thirteen-year-old Kevin, and twelve-year-old Carrie, stood between their parents. Carrie held tight to her father’s hand.

“Hi, Kevin, Carrie. It’s good to see you this morning. What’s up?”

Kevin stepped forward. “Uh, sure. Hi, Pastor Roger, well, I just want to say thanks for helping Mom and Dad ‘an even my sister ‘an me ‘cause we were super unhappy, you know, with all that was happening. Like with the vandalism stuff. Anyway, you were a super help for us all. Like, y’know, at home. So thank you.”

Kevin held up his fist. I bumped.

Carrie added, “Yeah, it’s way more cooler at home. It’s like things kinda settled down. We’re not all so jumpy. Afraid.”

She held up her palm for a high five.

Kevin: “I wasn’t afraid!”

Carrie: “Were too.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Oh, fer sure.”

“Dork.”

“Dweeb.”

“Kids. Enough. Roger, you’re smiling again. And don’t tell me it’s about the Holy Spirit showing up.”

“Well … in a way …”

Sue leaned toward me, whispered, “Roger, that’s not a smile. It’s a smirk.”

“It’s just that it’s so nice to see things getting back to normal.”

“If that’s what you call it …”

Carrie’s blond hair shimmered as he bobbed her head. Her smile was a psalm of radiance. Kevin bounced on his toes, flashed a grin as he waved goodbye. Mom and Dad wrapped their arms around their children’s shoulders, pulled them close with sideways hugs.

At home, over home-made soup and fresh French bread, I told Pauline about Carrie and Kevin’s comments.

“Wow, Roger. That’s right out of Psalm 8, isn’t it.”

“You mean the one that says, Through the praise of children and infants God has established a stronghold against his enemies, to silence the foe and the avenger?”

“Yeah. That. How’s the soup?”

 

All Bible quotes are from the NIV.

Copyright © 2026 Peter K. Schipper