The Offense of Defense

Teach me good judgment and knowledge, for I believe in your commandments. -- Psalm 119:66

Rules, regulations, laws, what’s the difference?   They are very much the same.  We talk about the rules of the road.  A person doesn’t necessarily get a ticket or suffer an immediate consequence for, say, not letting someone merge or for not signaling a lane change, but these are actions that smooth the flow of traffic and make sense when we think about other drivers on the road.  On the other hand, the laws of physics are a mathematical description of the way the material universe works.  There is not a lot of room for creative interpretation -- fall down, go boom, most of the time.

Sometimes we are inclined to look at God’s law as being more rules of etiquette, things we do if we want to be considered decent, civilized human beings.  It’s more like we got the idea of civilization from God’s law.  Good judgment, being polite, considering the consequences of one’s actions with regard to one’s neighbor, avoiding offense, these arise from the understanding and practice of the spiritual law.  If we flaunt the law of God, openly or covertly, we inevitably reap a harvest of consequences in our souls.  The warping of the soul leads to outward manifestations.  As the psalmist says in the next verse:  Before I was afflicted I went astray, but now I keep your word.

Sometimes it is difficult for us to recognize the correlation between what happens in our physical environment and the laws we have transgressed.  It’s clear that many people appear to get away with blatantly and openly trampling upon God’s precepts while some of the rest of us seem to suffer if we so much as look at the law sideways.  This is a subject I touch upon frequently.  A person may be disobedient in one area but adhere to the law strictly in another.   Paul speaks of those who having no knowledge or particular regard for the written law of Moses still often do what is right:  For when Gentiles, who do not have the law, by nature do what the law requires, they are a law to themselves, even though they do not have the law.

As humans made in the image and likeness of God, we have great creative powers and potential.  We may cut ourselves off from that spiritual power, living fleshly, animalistic lives.  We have that option, and more and more of us seem to be exercising it.  We become as stupid and instinctive as the lower creatures.  We may be undisciplined or disciplined, the results made plain in our physical bodies. 

But even if we become Christians, our violations of the law create what we might think of as lesions in our souls.  We’ve talked about strongholds in the past, and this is where those fortresses begin.  One theory about plaque build-up in the vascular system says that cholesterol is deposited in the arteries as a means of repairing vessels weakened by inflammation – often said to be related to a diet high in sugar.  In the same way, we build defensive structures -- rationalizations, projections, denials, compulsion, addictions, etc. – as a means of protecting tender, weak, wounded areas in our psyches.  So long as the wound remains, though we tear down the fortress walls, something will arise to protect it. 

The only way to be free of strongholds is to be healed of wounds, to be made whole.  Jesus can do that for us.  It is a matter of trust, honesty, and an understanding of how the Lord identified with us that we might identify fully with Him.   We may go on living selfish lives, or we may access the power of God in obedience to live holy lives.  The first step is to drop all efforts of self-justification.  

Demolition Man

Now there was no blacksmith to be found throughout all the land of Israel, for the Philistines said, “Lest the Hebrews make themselves swords or spears.” — 1 Samuel 13:19

For the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh but have divine power to destroy strongholds. — 2 Corinthian 10:4

It can be said that the armed are citizens while the unarmed are mere slaves. Oppressors prefer their victims be unable to offer meaningful resistance. I'm all for "carnal" weapons, but we should not allow the enemy of our souls to disarm us of our far more vital spiritual weapons. Paul gives us a list of the Christian's defensive weaponry — the armor of God, in Ephesians 6. He specifically names only one offensive weapon: the sword of the Spirit, that is, the word of God.

Truth and peace will help us hold our ground. Righteousness will guard our hearts as the reality of salvation protects our minds. Faith will shield us when we are showered by fiery trials. The word enables us divide our enemies asunder, revealing and exposing motives and origins. Prayer is less a weapon and more the battle itself. When we begin to pray, we will often find ourselves under attack. In order to continue and be effective in prayer, we must deploy our armor and weaponry, walk in truth and peace, stay in faith, and constantly wield the word against all attacks.

Paul goes on to say: We are destroying speculations and every lofty thing raised up against the knowledge of God, and we are taking every thought captive to the obedience of Christ.

Not all our thoughts are our own. They don't all originate with us. I wonder if I've ever had an original thought in my life. Most of what I think is something heard or read somewhere else. As the Preacher said long ago, there's nothing new under the sun. Whether they originate with us or not, our thoughts fit together in our minds. If a new thought does not fit into the structure we have built so far, our tendency is to reject it, cast it onto the pile for potential later use, or whittle on it a bit so that can be added in right now.

We construct thought-buildings all our lives. Some we maintain and keep up, remodeling or even rebuilding as needed. Some we find we must eventually demolish, though we may recycle stones and old solid, seasoned lumber to be used in the newer structures. But other of our structures we seem to forget. They still stand, though neglected and abandoned.

There is a mythical truth to haunted houses, for there are truly haunted structures in the psyche. They are like the prophetic descriptions of Babylon – desolate but not empty. Gibbering and loathsome things may find there a place to hide, a lair from which they may steal to strike in the hour of darkness and tribulation. Our shield of faith is toward the front. We may be vulnerable to an attack from behind.

The best thing is to destroy those strongholds, to deploy the weapons of our warfare in leveling the old, outdated, outmoded thought-buildings that have become fortresses for the enemy. It never ceases to amaze me how powerful is the word of God. It really is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path. The days that I ignore it because I am too busy are simply darker than the days that I read so much as a single verse.

I remember watching an old movie about the Crusades. The English king meets some Moslem leader, perhaps Saladin. To demonstrate the strength of his sword, the Englishman cuts an iron bar with a single stroke. The Moslem is impressed but points out that the Christian has not at all shown the sharpness of his blade; he has instead shown the power of his arm. The Moslem takes a bit of silk from the queen and tosses it into the air. It falls on the upturned blade of the Eastern sword and is gently, perfectly divided.

That’s the way the word works. It’s not the strength we have to wield it, but the frightening razor edge of the word itself that destroys the haunts of the demons that would oppress us.