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.

Babble On

Be quiet, and I will speak. Let whatever comes happen to me. Why do I put myself at risk and take my life in my hands? Even if He kills me, I will hope in Him. I will still defend my ways before Him. Yes, this will result in my deliverance, for no godless person can appear before Him. – Job 13:13-16

Every time I get into the Book of Job, I wonder at the sophistication of the God-inspired genius that penned it. The subtleties of the arguments going back and forth are amazing. Depending on the day and the mood I’m in I may find myself agreeing with Job, agreeing with his comforters, or seeing the flaws of both at any given point – sometimes all that simultaneously.

The King James Version of Job 13:15 -- “Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him” – is often quoted out of context. It seems to imply an absolute trust without regard to understanding. But Job, at this point, still wants justice, and he still believes that God is the just and righteous judge.

We always want to make God comprehensible. We are willing to use figures of speech and paradoxes because we realize that God is not exactly like us, even that He is far beyond us. But we cling to the notion that, though He may be infinite, He will limit Himself in dealing with the weakness of human existence. We think that He did that explicitly in Christ.

I wonder.

We use language like a transformer, and we have a built-in breaker box in case we get a surge off the main line. In the end we know that, when Job gets the pure, raw feed, he shuts up. It’s something to consider.

If you look closely at the passage above, you will see that Job is defiant. If God kills me, I will still have hope in Him. I hope that He will see where He has wronged me. That is the underlying message Job is stating. “I will still defend my ways before Him,” Job says. He expects deliverance if only he can present his case openly and fairly before the Lord.

This resonates with me. God is a just God. I believe He will do right by me if I have done right. And, in thinking that way, I am no more than a pagan. I’m probably not as good as a pagan. The pagans recognized a certain degree of capriciousness in their gods, and, though they incorrectly attributed it to human motivations such as jealously or envy, it allowed them to accommodate some cruelty or unfairness. If I try to make God finite and understandable, as a Christian, I often try to limit His “justice” to those possibilities on this side of my horizons. But the limits of my vision are not the limits of God. Even within the circle of what I can see I know some things are hidden from me. How much more is there out beyond the curve of this material life? If there be dragons, are they to battle or to ride?

Be still, and know I AM.

Suffer in silence? If we press on, we may well reach a point where silence is our only argument. There is a point where words fail and even the poets lay down the pen and cover the mouth. I’m not so sure it does much good to shut up before we get to edge of the language, though words may get to be fewer, change in meaning and import, and grow more profound. The Bible says that where there are a multitude of words there must be sin. Then we are told to lay aside the sin that does so easily beset us that we may run, unhindered.

Lay aside the excess weight of words. Carry only what you need.

I always dreamed of living in a time when there were great blank spaces on the maps. I do live in such a time, but the map is not of this world, and the blanks stretch to infinity. Right now, I am hanging around in this border country where the trails begin to get a little faint. The maps are already questionable and often in conflict.

If it clanks, clangs, or rings, it’s probably best to drop it. Make sure you have plenty of living water, and if you don’t have a sword, sell your coat and buy one.