Random Thoughts on the Nature of Spiritual Warfare

Emily and I were reading a passage from Isaiah this morning when it got me to thinking about the whole analogy that the Bible sometimes draws between spiritual warfare and warfare in the physical world. In particular, I started thinking about what that analogy said Christian "warriors" are and are not.

Ephesians 6 is the famous "armor of God" chapter in the NT. It describes the Christian "warrior" as being equiped with belt, footware (Roman infantry wore sandals that were made to be more durable than standard, household footware), breastplate, shield, helm and sword. All of this is infantry equipment. In fact, it's not even the complete set of Roman infantry equipment. The typical Roman soldier was most notably equipped with two kinds of spear (one for throwing at distance and one for dragging down the enemy's shield as he drew near) and a dagger (a backup to the 'gladius' or shortsword that was standard Roman issue).

So why the omissions? Was Paul unaware how Roman soldiers were normally equipped? Had he figured that he had made his point and didn't care to be exhaustive? Or was there some other reason behind his choices?

To the best of my recollection, when the Bible talks about Jews or Christians battling spiritual forces, it always does so in terms of infantry. We aren't archers. We're certainly not cavalry.

In ancient and medieval warfare, archers and slingers would stand at some distance from the enemy and shoot at them. Their worst fears were getting caught by return fire, or the enemy closing on them before the infantry could move into position. Some archers were mounted, using their superior mobility to increase the effective range of their attack, then move them quickly out of the field of the enemy's return fire.

None of this applies to Christian spiritual warfare. The Bible doesn't describe a spiritual sling or bow that we Christians get to use. The enemy fires arrows at us, but we don't have the equipment to return fire in kind. Even if we did, the picture that the Bible draws is not one of an enemy far away that we can shoot at from a safe distance. We do not have the option of advancing toward the enemy or retreating from him. The picture is much more dire than that.

In the Bible, the enemy is both at range (from where he shoots "firey darts" at us) and is also up close, in our faces, where our ranged weapons would be of little use. (The stance an archer or slinger has to take to use his weapon leaves him open to attack.) Even up close, we would have an advantage if we could face the enemy from horseback. The Biblical doesn't give us that option either. No spiritual horses we can mount. We're infantry, plain and simple. In the ancient world, archers, slingers and cavalry were typically used to harry the enemy ... soften him up ... but it was almost always the infantries that decided the day.

Ancient infantries relied on battle formations and tactics to give them an advantage. The phalanx (or the later shield wall) relied on infantrymen standing shoulder-to-shoulder in tight formation. Their raised shields presented a continuous barrier (a "wall") to the enemy. From points above that wall, spears protruded, often in three or four rows, both to deter attack and for use as a collective thrusting weapon when the phalanx advanced.

That picture seems like a good analogy for the Christian fight, doesn't it? We're all one body, working together under one High Commander. But the Bible doesn't use that picture either. Why not?

When an army was in phalanx formation, they always tried to position themselves to protect their rear and flanks. The phalanx was a powerful formation, but an unwieldy one. It couldn't change directions quickly. If an enemy attacked a phalanx from the flank or rear the phalanx would break, and the battle was reduced to a hand-to-hand skirmish until one side or the other died or fled.

In fact, reducing the battle to hand-to-hand fighting was inevitable in ancient warfare. If the enemy killed someone on the front line of a phalanx, the person in the next row back was obliged to quickly step into the gap. If he hesitated, the enemy could take advantage of the gap to force a breach into the phalanx, with the same effect as if he had attacked it from an undefended side: the phalanx breaks and the battle reduces to a skirmish until one side or the other dies or flees. If the enemy's phalanx is the one that breaks, the battle again reduces to a skirmish as men from the winning phalanx spread out to engage those scattered from the losing one. When a phalanx broke, the men from winning phalanx had the advantage of having their fellows one two or three sides of them when the skirmish started, but this advantage dwindled as the battle wore on.

And here we finally come to the picture that the Bible paints for us of spiritual warfare: one of the phalanxes (either ours or the enemy's) has broken, and the battle has devolved into a chaotic, hand-to-hand skirmish. The enemy is in our face, too close for ranged weapons, or even spears, to be used effectively. We have no mounts. We do have a sword (if we've bothered to pick it up), a gladius, sized specifically for this kind of combat. We have armor, if we've bothered to put it on ... the best available in the known world. We have brothers-in-arms with whom we can stand back-to-back. And we have a High Commander, a Holy Emporer, who gives us the will, motive, courage, strength and skill to beat the enemy.

It's a desparate fight, but the odds are stacked in our favor.