“But you are a shield around me, O Lord…” 

I had a great time growing up as a kid.  When I was eight we moved from a small house in a crowded neighborhood development to a bigger house on a cul-de-sac and a canal with river access in the back.  There were even empty lots across the street and next-door.  There were woods all around for us to build tree forts.  For a boy it was just about perfect.  A watery woodsy wonderland meant tons of fun immediately after school.  Later we got the world’s first 16 ft. Magnum shallow-hulled speedboat, but I don’t want to go there.  Where I want to go is the water.  One day when we were in elementary school there was an alligator swimming in our canal for a couple of days.  He was small, maybe a five footer.  Needless to say, it created quite a stir among my friends and us.  One friend actually jumped in the water when the gator was a little ways off so he could say he “swam with a gator.”  As soon as the gator slipped seamlessly under the water, my friend scrambled out of the water asap, climbing up the seawall.  (I don’t know if my parents ever knew about this.  I thought about jumping in too, but I feared them more than the gator!)

You might be wondering, “OK, what in the world does this story have to do with the Lord being a shield?”  Glad you asked.  There are two primary Hebrew words translated “shield” in the Old Testament.  The one used three-fourths of the time is a word that can mean “scaly hide of a crocodile.”  OK, we have crocodiles here too.  In addition, it means a buckler, a small shield with straps attached on the back through which you can slide your arm.  It was meant to be light so you could maneuver it quickly into defensive angles.  In close quarter, hand-to-hand combat, this was absolutely essential.  I’m sure you’ve seen them in any movie set in ancient times with battle scenes.

The first time we see God called a shield is when he declares it himself to Abr(ah)am in Genesis 15:1, “Do not be afraid, Abram.  I am your shield, your very great reward.”  The time of this statement is interesting.  It comes immediately after the only real battle Abram ever fought, when he and a band of “318 trained men born in his household” (14:14) caught and routed the 5 kings and their armies that had kidnapped his nephew Lot.  In a word, the boy was ready.  You don’t mess with Abe or his family.

So why didn’t God reveal this to Abe before he went off to war?  You’d think that is when it would count the most.  But no, God waited till afterward.  The reason is found in the conversation Abe has with God immediately after this revelation.  “If God is my shield and great reward,” Abram reasons, then why is he still without an heir?  Why are there no children? (15:3).  God answers by taking him outside his tent and telling him to look up and count the stars, if he is able.  Then he says, “So shall your offspring be” (v. 5).  So what’s the connection with God being the shield?  Simply this: just as he guarded your body in battle, he will now guard your battle until your offspring arrives.  Just as he guarded and protected his family member, so he will again guard his promise of a future descendant.  It connects Abe’s past, present and future.  Doing so demonstrates the timelessness and certainty of his promises.

Psalm 3:3 says the same thing: “But you are a shield around me, O Lord…”  This kind of shield didn’t surround the warrior.  It was too small for that.  Notice that in this latter case, King David’s enemies were “many” (v. 1).  No matter.  When God is your shield, he’s got your back, your front, your side, your head, your feet, you name it.  Whatever you think is exposed, guess again.  It’s covered!

If there were ever an ideal psalm written for dramatic reading, Psalm 3 would be it.  Notice the three Selah’s, meaning, “think about that,” dividing it.  In the first section, David is terribly discouraged.  Forced out of his palace by his treacherous son Absalom, his family, capital city and country are turned upside down.  “Think about that” (v. 2) he writes, sadly.  But the more he ponders, he remembers that God was Abram’s shield, and was still his shield, protecting him from King Saul’s posse.  So more emphatically he writes, “Think about that!” (v. 4).  Once the memory and heart are righted, he sleeps peacefully, because fear has vanished.  God will “strike all [his] enemies on the jaw,” breaking their teeth (v. 7).  “From the Lord comes deliverance” (v.8).  “Think about that!!” he writes in obvious jubilation.

How has God’s “crocodile covering” shielded you in the past?  Got your shield up now?