In 2019, I read through the Bible in a calendar year for the first time. For almost all of that expedition, I read out of the New Living Translation Bible. Throughout the year, I noticed an interesting phrase that rang new to me. It seemed to come up a lot. I recently searched for it in my YouVersion app, and it showed 272 search results. With that kind of repetitive use, I’d guess it’s something God wanted us to consider.
The phrase?
“Lord of Heaven’s Armies.”
In older translations, this phrase would be printed as “Lord of hosts.” In The Message, Eugene Peterson translated the phrase as “Lord of angel armies.” Regardless how you bring that idea into English, it connotes a battle-ready commander, a force to be reckoned with. In Psalm 24, David adds to this label. Depending on your translation, the Jewish warrior king proclaims that the Lord of Heaven’s Armies is mighty or even invincible in battle.
In the New Testament, we learn that God is love. Not just lovely. Not just loving. He is inherently the definition of love. This love must be fierce, then. It must be ready to fight for what and who God loves. That love goes to war for justice. That love battles for the restoration of broken things. That love boasts a plethora of reinforcements to resist the forces that scheme for our depression and aggression. That love engages with the enemies of truth and life. That love deploys against the marauders that raid our hearts and souls. That love fires back at the giants who intimidate us and bind us in fear.
I have been overwhelmed the past few months by this idea of love fighting for me. My sister, Emily, sent me a song that has left me ugly crying on mountain trails before or after work shifts. In “Champion,” Dante Bowe sings:
So let all the striving cease
This is my victory
You are my Champion
Giants fall when You stand
Undefeated
Every battle You’ve won
I am who You say I am
You crown me with confidence
I am seated
In the heavenly place
Undefeated
With the One who has conquered it all
When I lift my voice and shout
Every wall comes crashing down
I have the authority
Jesus has given me
When I open up my mouth
Miracles start breaking out
I have the authority
Jesus has given me.
I don’t know about you, but my biggest enemies aren’t people. They aren’t even the limits of my reality: time, freedom, finances, or opportunity. The giants I fight are my insecurities, the lies I believe, and the constant whispers of regret. I don’t have the will—or at least enough will—to fight these giants inside me. I crave a ghost hunter, a lion slayer, and paramedic of the soul. I need a loving warrior. I need a leader of infinite armies to surround and siege walls that need to come down. I need a commander in chief to release his assassins, targeting my malignancies with sniper precision.
The undefeated Lord of heaven’s armies doesn’t just fight for me, though. He is teaching me how to join in the battle. For two millennia, we’ve had the Apostle Paul’s list of what we are to wear for the fight; but what’s changing in me in the posture of the fight. I’m not fighting Goliath as a solo shepherd while the armies of good and evil watch from nearby bluffs. No, I’m running with the eternal equivalent of ninjas, Navy SEALs, and Chuck Norrises as far as the eye can see. And we’re all following the creator of fire & lava, wind & waves, light & blinding brightness. His shock & awe is unfathomably glorious. The vibration of his words shakes and shapes multiple universes.
I am strengthened by his previous demonstrations of strength. I am drawn to his plan because of his proven sovereignty. I am loved into loving. I am fighting because I feel fought for. I charge into my dysfunction because the armies of heaven are ready to join me, and we are led by someone who loves me more than anyone else does or ever could.
—
Photo purchased from iStockPhoto.com
