Ephesians 6:12 (NASB95): 12 For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places.
It was a particularly difficult day; full of conflict and strife. The passage above came to mind in one those providential moments, and I recognized it as such right away. But it was one of those days— I wasn’t having it. I was in no place to hear it. So I nodded in acknowledgment of it’s truth, and defiantly tucked it away.
At a quieter time it came back, like I knew it would. It returned at a time when I couldn’t so easily ignore the distance between my profession and my practice. A particular question kept coming to mind. “What if it were true?” What if it’s really not the people I’m wrestling against? What if it were true, even when the pain comes from their mouths, or even from their hands? The question was appropriate because I had spent days in conflict, behaving as if there were a more innate truth that I live by.
Defenseless
If it is true, then despite my snarkiest comebacks, my finest arguments, or even how right I might be, without Spiritual armor, I’m defenseless. I cannot win. I will only come away wounded, injured, and bitter from fruitless effort. A small man hurling snarky comebacks at spiritual forces of wickedness in heavenly places.
I must have an armor suitable for the enemy with whom I wrestle. It must be the armor of God. It must be His armor. That is, if the passage is true. My natural armor, the armor I reach for innately, is designed for flesh and blood.
Depth of Armor
I am routinely guilty of looking to scripture for tools to make my life easier. Mining it to exploit its riches. Looking for impersonal principles I can wield as a tool. So I tried to use my faith as a shield, and wear righteousness like a breastplate.
The Story of Christianity is told in the language of this armor. It’s a story of faith, righteousness, Gospel, salvation. A story of a man who wrestled with spiritual forces of wickedness embodied in the people He came to save. The people He establishes a relationship with; an unbreakable relationship. He did it with righteousness, truth, the gospel and salvation. He did it, and continues to do it, by grace.
These are not tools to use, this armor is the currency of the kingdom. The very way by which, through Christ, we are born again. The way by which we are made new. So if the passage is true, then I must wrestle in all the ways Christ did to establish and preserve a relationship with me. I must humbly serve and not look to be served. I must consider others more important than myself. Forgive as I have been forgiven. Endure the humiliation and the shame. This is not just metaphor—This is the story of our lives in Christ.
The Only Victory
I am conditioned to believe victory is being right, winning the argument, getting my way. But if the passage is true, then the only victory is unity. I must preserve the unity already established by the Spirit. So, I put on the full armor and I stand. I stand and resist.
Sometimes Scripture uses a war metaphor to communicate an offensive. Like the gates of Hell not prevailing against the church. But in this case, I am not on the offensive. I am not storming the gates. I’m not the aggressor. That’s important to remember in this struggle. Though not against flesh and blood, we can do much harm to flesh and blood when we go on the attack.
We are simply defending our turf; holding our ground. The ground of unity. Our job is to stand against the schemes of the devil. His attacks are not just upon us, but upon our unity. If he can divide us, he wins. Our weapons are not offensive, but they do allow us to stand. So, when we have done everything to stand, we stand firm. For as much as we may falter, this passage is indeed still true.
Blessings
The Point of Reflection 