For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. (Ephesians 6:12-13)

As Pastor Michael mentioned yesterday, the command we’re given in the Armor of God passage of Ephesians 6 is not to go marching or retreating, but rather, to stand. That word “stand” is repeated again here—twice. And it will not be the last time you hear it.

In this, Paul is echoing Jesus himself, who in the great end-times passage of Matthew 24 speaks of all sorts of terrible things: “wars and rumors of wars,” “famines and earthquakes,” persecution, and death. At that times, he says “many will turn away from the faith and will betray and hate each other.” Indeed, “the love of most will grow cold, but the one who stands firm to the end will be saved.” (See Mt. 24:4-13)

The question naturally arises: if all we’re to do is stand—why does Paul resort to battle imagery like armor to describe our stand? I think the battle imagery keeps us alert to the fact that we had better have our wicks trimmed and lamps lit. That there is an urgency to our standing. A preparedness that comes with it. We’re not loitering. There’s an enemy prowling around like a lion, looking for someone to devour. There is evil crouching at our door. The battle is real, even if our only orders are to stand. Who is this enemy? In a word: evil. Not sin, but evil. And we can very quickly stumble down an endless trail of speculation should we attempt to surmise much more than that. But that’s not the point. Notice that what Paul displays most of all here, is restraint. He does not indulge our curiosities on evil. He mostly seems interested in making one, single distinction by telling us what the enemy is not: the enemy is not the flesh and blood people with names and faces around us. Those people we are called to love. They may sin, they may even by vectors of some of the evil we experience—but they are not themselves the enemy. And in standing against the day of evil, our love for them is not to grow cold.

We hold two things in tension then: firstly, that our enemy is disembodied and mostly beyond our perception, but secondly, that the battle is nevertheless still real. That’s all the more we get from Paul on the subject in this letter. Paul does not give us the tools for deciphering the cryptic work of evil. Instead, he gives us the armor of God. And what are we to do with this armor in the battle against the enemy? We could go on the offensive, crusading against evil and defining ourselves by what we’re against. We could go on the defensive, cowering in fear and paranoia of not knowing where evil will come from or how it will show itself. We could also plug our ears, stick our heads in the sand and ignore it altogether, living with Laodicean lukewarmness. But all of these miss the call of Ephesians 6. Which is not a call to retreat, nor a call to advance onward, nor a call to loiter—it is instead, simply a call to stand firm where we are. And where we are, is not in the clutches of evil. Where we are is in Christ, the Lord—surrounded and guarded not by our own might, but by His mighty power.

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. (Ephesians 3:17-21).