Not Against Flesh and Blood

When we look at the thoughts that come out of our own heart — the memory of things we have done, or the turning over of any matter or cause at all — we find that they sometimes come from ourselves, that sometimes they are set going by the opposing powers, and that often enough they are suggested by God or by the holy angels. Such a claim will probably sound like something out of a story unless it is confirmed by the witness of holy Scripture. [a]

That thoughts arise within ourselves, David bears witness in the Psalms when he says, “The thought of a man will confess to you, and what is left of thought will keep a feast day to you.” That this is also brought about by the opposing powers, Solomon shows in the book of Ecclesiastes in this way: “If the spirit of the ruler rises up against you, do not leave your place; for soundness will hold back great offenses.” The apostle Paul bears witness to the same point when he speaks of “casting down arguments and every high thing that lifts itself up against the knowledge of Christ.” That it is nevertheless also an effect due to God, David declares when he says in the Psalms, “Blessed is the man whose help is with you, Lord; the ascent is in his heart.” And the apostle says that “God put it into the heart of Titus.”

That certain thoughts are suggested to people’s hearts by good or by evil angels is shown both by the angel who traveled with Tobias and by the words of the prophet, where he says, “And the angel who spoke in me answered.” The book of the Shepherd says the same, that two angels attend each person: whenever good thoughts arise in our hearts, they are suggested by the good angel, but when thoughts of the opposite kind come, they are the prompting of the evil angel. Barnabas declares the same in his Letter, where he says there are two ways, one of light and one of darkness, and that certain angels are set over them — the angels of God over the way of light, the angels of Satan over the way of darkness.

We are not, however, to imagine that anything more follows from what is suggested to our heart, whether good or bad, than a stirring of the mind and a push urging us toward good or toward evil. For it is entirely within our reach, once a malicious power has begun to incite us to evil, to throw the wicked suggestions away from us, to resist the vile inducements, and to do nothing at all that deserves blame. And on the other hand, when a divine power calls us to better things, it is possible not to obey the call. Our freedom of choice is preserved to us either way.

We said in the earlier pages that certain recollections of good or evil actions are suggested to us either by an act of divine providence or by the opposing powers. The book of Esther shows this. Artaxerxes had not remembered the services of that just man Mordecai; but when he was worn out with a sleepless night, God put it into his mind to require that the record of Mordecai’s great deeds be read to him. Reminded in this way of the benefits he had received from him, he ordered his enemy Haman to be hanged, splendid honors to be conferred on Mordecai, and the whole of the holy nation to be spared the danger that hung over it.

On the other hand, we must suppose that it was through the devil’s hostile influence that a suggestion was put into the minds of the chief priests and the scribes — the one they brought to Pilate when they came and said, “Sir, we remember that that deceiver said while he was still alive, ‘After three days I will rise again.’” Judas’s plan to betray our Lord and Savior did not come from the wickedness of his own mind alone either, for Scripture testifies that “the devil had already put it into his heart to betray him.”

And so Solomon rightly gave the command, “Guard your heart with all diligence.” And the apostle Paul warns us, “Therefore we ought to pay closer attention to the things we have heard, in case we should let them slip.” And when he says, “Do not give place to the devil,” he shows by that instruction that room is made for the devil by certain acts of ours, or by a kind of laziness of mind. Once he has entered our heart he will either take possession of us, or at least, if he has not gained complete mastery over it, he will pollute the soul by throwing his fiery darts at us. Sometimes we are deeply wounded by them, and sometimes only set alight. Rarely, and only in a few cases, are those fiery darts put out so that they find no place to wound — that is, when a man is covered by the strong and mighty shield of faith.

As for the statement in the letter to the Ephesians, “We wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in the high places,” it must be understood as if the “we” meant “I, Paul, and you Ephesians, and all who do not have to wrestle against flesh and blood.” Those are the people who have to struggle against principalities and powers and the rulers of the darkness of this world — unlike the Corinthians, whose struggle was still against flesh and blood, and who had been overtaken by no temptation except what is common to man.

We are not, however, to suppose that each individual has to fight against all these adversaries. It is impossible for any man, even one of the saints, to carry on a contest against all of them at the same time. If that were somehow to happen — and it certainly cannot — human nature could not bear it without being utterly overthrown. [k]

Take an example. If fifty soldiers said they were about to engage with fifty others, no one would understand them to mean that each of them had to take on the whole fifty; each one would rightly say, “our battle was against fifty,” all of us against all of them. This is how the apostle’s meaning is to be understood. All the athletes and soldiers of Christ have to wrestle and struggle against all the adversaries he lists: the struggle is carried on against all of them, but by individuals against individual powers, or at any rate in whatever way God, the just president of the contest, determines.

For I hold that there is a certain limit to the powers of human nature. There may be a Paul, of whom it is said, “He is a chosen vessel to me”; or a Peter, against whom the gates of hell do not prevail; or a Moses, the friend of God. Yet not one of them could bear the whole assault of these opposing powers at once without ruin to himself, unless the might of that one alone were at work in him who said, “Take heart; I have overcome the world.”

And so Paul cries out with confidence, “I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me,” and again, “I labored more than all of them; yet not I, but the grace of God that was with me.” It was on account of this power — which is certainly not of human origin — working and speaking in him that Paul could say, “For I am persuaded that neither death nor life nor angels nor principalities nor powers nor things present nor things to come nor height nor depth nor power nor any other creature will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

For I do not think human nature can maintain a contest by itself alone against angels, against the powers of the height and of the depth, and against any other creature. But when it feels the presence of the Lord living within it, confidence in God’s help will lead it to say: “The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the protector of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? When my enemies drew near to me to eat my flesh — my enemies, who trouble me — they stumbled and fell. Though an army encamp against me, my heart will not fear; though war rise up against me, in him I will be confident.” From this I conclude that a man would probably never be able to overcome an opposing power on his own, without the benefit of God’s help.

This is also why the angel is said to have wrestled with Jacob. Here I understand the writer to mean that it was not the same thing for the angel to have wrestled “with” Jacob and to have wrestled “against” him. The angel who wrestles with him is the one who was there to keep him safe — the one who, having come to know his moral progress as well, gave him the further name Israel. That is, this angel is with him in the struggle and helps him in the contest, since there was undoubtedly another angel whom he contended with and against whom he had to carry on the fight. And in the end Paul did not say that we wrestle with princes or with powers, but against principalities and against powers. So although Jacob wrestled, it was unquestionably against one of those powers which, Paul says, resist and fight the human race, and the saints especially. That is why Scripture says of him at last that “he wrestled with the angel, and had power with God” — so that the struggle is supported by the angel’s help, but the prize of success brings the winner to God.

We are not to suppose that struggles of this kind are carried on by bodily strength and the exercises of the wrestling school. Spirit contends with spirit, as Paul says: our struggle is against principalities, and powers, and the rulers of the darkness of this world. [r]

The nature of the struggles is to be understood as follows. Losses and dangers come upon us, or slanders and false accusations are brought against us. The hostile powers do not aim merely at our suffering these things. They aim at driving us, by means of them, into a fit of anger or of grief, or to the last pitch of despair — or at least, which is the greater sin, at forcing us, when we are worn out and beaten down by these annoyances, to make complaints against God as one who does not govern human life justly and fairly. The result is that our faith may be weakened, or our hopes disappointed, or we may be forced to give up the truth of what we hold, or led to entertain irreverent thoughts about God.

Something of this sort is written about Job, after the devil had asked God that power be given him over Job’s goods. From it we are taught that it is not by accidental attacks that we are assailed whenever we suffer any such loss of property; that it is not chance when one of us is taken prisoner; that it is not chance when the houses in which those dear to us are living fall in and crush them to death. About every one of these events each believer ought to say, “You could have no power at all against me, unless it were given you from above.”

Notice that Job’s house did not fall on his sons until the devil had first received power against them. The horsemen would not have made their raid in three companies to carry off his camels and his oxen and his other cattle, if they had not been driven on by the spirit to whom they had handed themselves over as the servants of his will. Nor would that fire, as it seemed to be — a thunderbolt, as it has been taken to be — have fallen on the patriarch’s sheep, until the devil had said to God, “Have you not made a hedge around everything outside his house and inside it, and around all the rest of his property? But now stretch out your hand and touch everything he has, and see whether he will not curse you to your face.”

The upshot of everything said so far is this: all the events in the world that are reckoned to be of the in-between kind, whether they are sad or otherwise, are brought about not by God, and yet not without him. He does not prevent those wicked and opposing powers that want to bring these things about; he even permits them to do it, though only on certain occasions and to certain people. So it is said of Job himself that for a certain time he was made to fall under the power of others and to have his house plundered by unjust men. [u]

This is why holy Scripture teaches us to receive everything that happens as sent by God, knowing that no event occurs without him. How can we doubt that this is so — that nothing comes to a person apart from God’s will — when our Lord and Savior declares, “Are not two sparrows sold for an assarion? And not one of them will fall to the ground without your Father who is in heaven.”

The needs of the case have carried us off into a long digression about the war the hostile powers wage against people, and about the sadder events that happen in human life — that is, its temptations, as Job says: “Is not the whole life of a man on earth a temptation?” The point was to show clearly how such things come about and in what spirit we ought to regard them. Let us look next at how people fall into the sin of false knowledge, and with what object the opposing powers usually stir up conflict with us over such things.