It was noticed above that St. Paul has no doubt at all that moral evil has its origin and spring in the dark background behind human nature—in the rebel wills of devils. It has become customary to regard belief in devils or angels as fanciful and perhaps superstitious. Now no doubt theological and popular fancy has intruded itself into the things it has not seen, and, instead of the studiously vague[[1]] language of St. Paul, has developed a sort of geography and ethnology for spirits good and bad which is mythological and allied to superstition. But it has acted in the same way, and shown the same resentment of the discipline of ignorance, in the case of even more central spiritual realities. No doubt again the belief in the devil has sometimes become, in practical force, belief in a rival God. But this sort of Manichaeism or dualism represents a very permanent tendency in the untrained religious instincts of men, which the Bible is occupied in restraining. In the Bible certainly Satan and his hosts are rebel angels and not rival Gods. Once more undoubtedly demonology has been a source of much misery and many degrading practices. But demonology represents a natural religious instinct. It is older than the Bible. And what our religion has done, where it has been true to itself, is to purge away the noxious and non-moral superstitions. St. Paul is representative of true Christianity in his stern refusal to use the services of contemporary soothsaying and magic and sorcery[[2]]. One has only to compare the exorcisms of our Lord with contemporary Jewish exorcism to note the moral difference. And every truth has its exaggeration and its abuse. The question still remains; are there no spiritual beings but men? Is there no moral evil, but in the human heart? Our Lord gives the most emphatic negative answer. His teaching about evil (and good) spirits is unmistakable and constant. If He is an absolutely trustworthy teacher in the spiritual concerns of life, then temptation from evil spirits is a reality, and a reality to be held constantly in view. And our Lord's authority is confirmed by our own experiences. Sometimes experience irresistibly suggests to us the presence of unseen bad companions who can make vivid suggestions to our minds. Or we are impressed like St. Paul with the delusive, lying character of evil, which makes the belief in a malevolent will almost inevitable. Or the continuity in evil influences, social or personal, seems to disclose to us an organized plan or 'method[[3]]' a kingdom of evil.

It is then in view of unseen but personal spiritual adversaries organized against us as armies, under leaders who have at their control wide-reaching social forces of evil, and who intrude themselves into the highest spiritual regions 'the heavenly places' to which in their own nature they belong, that St. Paul would have us equip ourselves for fighting in 'the armour of light[[4]].'

If there is a spiritual battle, armour defensive and offensive becomes a natural metaphor which St. Paul frequently uses[[5]]. But in his imprisonment he must have become specially habituated to the armour of Roman soldiers, and here, as it were, he makes a spiritual meditation on the pieces of the 'panoply' which were continually under his observation.

We are, then, to 'take up' or 'put on' the panoply or whole armour of God. This means more than the armour which God supplies. It is probably like 'the righteousness of God,' something which is not only a gift of God, but a gift of His own self. Our righteousness is Christ, and He is our armour. Christ, the 'stronger man,' who overthrew 'the strong man armed' in His own person[[6]], and 'took away from him his panoply in which he trusted,' is to be our defence. And by no external protection; we are to clothe ourselves in His nature, to put Him on as our armour. His is the strength in which we are, like Him, to come triumphant through the hour of darkness.

Now the parts of the armour, the elements of Christ's unconquerable moral strength, what are they?

The belt which keeps all else in its place is for the Christian, truth—that is, singleness of eye or perfect sincerity—the pure and simple desire of the light. 'Unless the vessel be clean (or sincere)' said the old Roman proverb, 'whatever you put into it turns sour.' A lack of sincerity at the heart of the spiritual life will destroy it all. Then the breastplate which covers vital organs is, for the Christian, righteousness—the specific righteousness of Christ, St. Paul seems to imply[[7]], in which in its indivisible unity he is to enwrap himself. And, as the feet of the soldier must be well shod not only for protection but also to facilitate free movement on all sorts of ground, the Christian too is to be so possessed with the good tidings of peace that he is 'prepared' to move and act under all circumstances—all hesitations, and delays, and uncertainties which hinder movement gone—his feet shod with the preparedness which belongs to those who have peace at the heart. ('How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth glad tidings, that publisheth peace.') In these three fundamental dispositions—single-mindedness, whole-hearted following of Christ, readiness such as belongs to a believer in the good tidings—lies the Christian's strength. But the armour is not yet complete. The attacks of the enemy upon the thoughts will be frequent and fiery. A constant and rapid action of the will will be necessary to protect ourselves from evil suggestions lest they obtain a lodgement. And the method of self-protection is to look continually and deliberately out of ourselves up to Christ—to appeal to Him, to invoke His name, to draw upon His strength by acts of our will. Thus faith, continually at every fresh assault looking instinctively to Christ and drawing upon His help, is to be our shield, off which the enemy's darts will glance harmless, their hurtful fire quenched. And in thus defending ourselves we must have continually in mind that God has delivered man by a great redemption[[8]]. It is the sense of this great salvation, the conviction of each Christian that he is among those who have been saved and are tasting this salvation, which is to cover his head from attack like a helmet[[9]]. And God's word—God's specific and particular utterances, through inspired prophets and psalmists—is to equip his mouth with a sword of power; as in His temptation and on the cross, Christ 'put off from Himself the principalities and powers, and made a show of them, triumphing over them openly' by the words of Holy Scripture; as Bunyan's Christian, when 'Apollyon was fetching him his last blow, nimbly stretched out his hand and caught' for his 'sword' the word of Micah, 'when I fall I shall arise.' This is one fruit of constant meditation on the words of Holy Scripture, that they recur to our minds when we most need them. And then St. Paul passes from metaphor to simple speech, and for the last weapon bids the Christians use 'always' that most powerful of all spiritual weapons for themselves and others, 'prayer and supplication' of all kinds and 'in all seasons.' But it is not to be ignorant and blind prayer; it is to be prayer 'in the spirit,' 'who helpeth our infirmities, for we know not of ourselves how to pray as we ought.' 'The things of God none knoweth, save the Spirit of God'[[10]]; and it is to be the sort of prayer about which trouble is taken, and which is persevering; and it is to be prayer for others as well as for themselves, 'for all the saints.' And St. Paul uses the pastor's privilege, and asks for himself the support of his converts' prayers, that he may have both power of speech and courage to proclaim the good tidings of the divine secret disclosed, for which he is already suffering as a prisoner.

Finally, be strong in the Lord, and in the strength of his might. Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For our wrestling is not against flesh and blood, but against the principalities, against the powers, against the world-rulers of this darkness, against the spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places. Wherefore take up the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and, having done all, to stand. Stand therefore, having girded your loins with truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and having shod your feet with the preparation of the gospel of peace; withal taking up the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the evil one. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God: with all prayer and supplication praying at all seasons in the Spirit, and watching thereunto in all perseverance and supplication for all the saints, and on my behalf, that utterance may be given unto me in opening my mouth, to make known with boldness the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains; that in it I may speak boldly, as I ought to speak.

St. Paul does not only exhort Christians to pray, but he gives them abundant examples. In this epistle there are two specimens[[11]] of prayer for the spiritual progress of his converts, mingled with thanksgivings and praise. We habitually pray for others that they may be delivered from temporal evils, or that they may be converted from flagrant sin or unbelief. But surely we very seldom pray rich prayers, like those of St. Paul's, for others' progress in spiritual apprehension.