For the arms of our warfare [are] not fleshly, but powerful according to God to [the] overthrow of strongholds;
At Corinth, Paul's critics claimed he fought on a merely human level. He answers by describing a different fight altogether — different weapons, and a power that is not his own.
Paul draws a line in the sentence just before this one. Living in a body is one thing. Being ruled by it is another.
There is the widest possible difference between walking "in" the flesh, that is, in the body (compare Galatians 2:20), and walking "according to" the flesh, which would mean being ruled by it. The apostle gives his reason for the distinction: the weapons of our warfare are not fleshly, but mighty through God to pull down strongholds — the seats of the enemy's power, like Jericho long ago in what it pictured.
The fortresses in view are not made of stone. They are positions inside people, and someone holds them.
With us there are "strongholds" to be overthrown. Who holds these strongholds? The great adversary himself. He is the one who has dug himself into human hearts. So those hearts are full of "imaginations," or "reasonings." They lift themselves up against the knowledge of God, and they are full of lawlessness. All these proud thoughts have to be brought down and made captive to Christ, so that lawlessness gives way to obedience to Him. What weapons are strong enough to produce that result?
The answer is blunt. A weapon drawn from the same source as the enemy cannot defeat him.
Merely human weapons are completely useless. Fleshly weapons can no more subdue the flesh than Satan can drive out Satan. Only spiritual weapons can win, and they must be used in God's way if they are to work.
Human skill is always close to hand. Set it against Satan's fortresses and the mismatch is absurd:
Set mere human eloquence, or learning, or skill, or intellect against such strongholds. Try to coax people round the corner of their rebellion and self-will by arts and sciences that appeal only to feelings and emotions. That is worse folly than attacking the fortress of Gibraltar with a pea-shooter. Nothing but the power of God will do.
Paul does not list the weapons here, and commentators fill the gap in different ways. One points to a boy with a sling facing an armoured giant:
Paul did not fight according to the flesh. In his conflict with the enemy he had no use for fleshly weapons. He found that the meekness and gentleness of Christ were the weapons God used. Five smooth stones and a sling looked feeble against a giant in full armour. Yet one stone in the hands of a young man was mighty through God, and the giant fell.
Another points to weapons every Christian can use:
There are, however, spiritual weapons that all may use. The apostles in Jerusalem gave examples when they said, "we will devote ourselves to prayer and to the ministry of the word" (Acts 6:4). Every believer can pray, and every believer can speak the Word in some way.
The power is not in the man holding the weapons. Paul enters this fight with nothing of his own.
In the flesh he is powerless, for by his own confession he is dead with Christ. But in the Spirit he has weapons that are mighty, through God, to overthrow whatever stands against God. At the root of his confession as a servant of God lies this: the power is God's alone. So efforts made in his own strength are fruitless, even when the purpose is godly.
Paul's fight here does not only hold ground. It advances.
The conflict of Ephesians 6 is mainly defensive: the only attacking weapon named there is the sword of the Spirit, the Word of God. Here the conflict is aggressive, and there are weapons — the word is plural, for there is more than one. Pulling down strongholds of stone or iron is easy next to pulling down strongholds of unbelief and of the powers of darkness, and casting down the empty reasonings of darkened yet proud and self-satisfied minds.
- Not carnal — Paul lives in a body like everyone else, but he will not be ruled by it. A weapon taken from the enemy's own supply can never beat him.
- Not stone — the strongholds are reasonings and pride dug into human hearts. No argument or eloquence can shift the enemy who holds them.
- Not ours — the might is "through God"; effort spent in our own sufficiency is fruitless even when the aim is good.
- Not scarce — prayer, the Word, and the meekness and gentleness of Christ are within every believer's reach. They look as feeble as a sling before a giant.
- Not defensive only — this warfare advances. Its aim is captivity: every thought brought into the obedience of Christ.
overthrowing reasonings and every high thing that lifts itself up against the knowledge of God, and leading captive every thought into the obedience of the Christ;
Paul is at war, but not with people. He names the real battlefield: the reasonings and proud thoughts that stand between a person and the knowledge of God.
The strongholds Paul names are not made of stone. Commentators place them in the human heart, and behind the heart, in an enemy.
With us there are "strongholds" to be overthrown. Who holds these strongholds? The great adversary himself. He has dug himself into human hearts. So those hearts fill up with "imaginations" or "reasonings." They lift themselves up high against the knowledge of God, and they fill with lawlessness. Every one of these proud thoughts must be brought low and taken captive to Christ, so that lawlessness gives way to obedience to Him.
People often read this verse next to the armour of Ephesians 6. The two passages face opposite ways.
The conflict in Ephesians 6 is mostly defensive. The only attacking weapon named there is the sword of the Spirit, the Word of God. Here the conflict is on the attack... Pulling down strongholds of stone or iron is easy next to this. Here you take apart strongholds of unbelief and of the powers of darkness. You throw down the empty reasonings of minds that are darkened, yet proud and pleased with themselves. The goal is that the whole soul and mind, and every thought in it, bows to God with the glad, ready obedience Christ Himself gave.
Sharper argument, wit, or pressure cannot do this work. They come from the very nature they are trying to beat.
Human weapons on their own are useless. Human nature can no more subdue human nature than Satan can drive out Satan. Only spiritual weapons win, and we must use them God's way for them to work.
The older word translates a term for reasonings. One writer defines the aim of the whole campaign, and draws a sharp conclusion from it.
The true aim of spiritual warfare is to hold down the natural will. That will is where Satan sits, and it is the tool he works through. So faith claims and defends God's rights against the rights people claim for themselves. This is why Paul writes as he does here. Thoughts that run independent of God can never sit alongside a real submission of heart and mind to Him. God's church is a holy place for God's truth, not for human thought... A believer who thinks free of God is a contradiction in terms, because God's truth is what sanctifies us.
Commentators differ over who is in view. Some read the verse as Paul's own inner discipline. Others hold that the setting points outward, to those attacking him at Corinth.
"Taking every thought captive to obey Christ" does not mean Paul's own thoughts. The context makes that clear. He means the thoughts of his opponents, who were trying to corrupt the truth of Christianity at Corinth. Paul had to face two kinds of opposition. The first came from teachers who pressed the Jewish law on believers. The second came from philosophy. Both stood against the truth.
Paul's picture is of prisoners of war led away. The Greek verb behind it carries its own picture, and that picture fits how hard the task is.
The Greek word here for "leading captive" is completely different from the one used in 1 Cor. 9:27 for "keep it under control." The word in 2 Cor. 10 comes from a word that means 'to throw a spear.' Our thoughts slip away from us and are very hard to catch and lead off. Perhaps that is why the Spirit of God chooses a word about throwing a spear. And thank the Lord — even every thought can be led captive to the obedience of Christ. That is the hardest of all.
The verse does not say obedience to Christ only, but the obedience of Christ. That phrase sets the kind of obedience, not just who it is owed to.
The obedience of Christ is the character of our obedience. Suppose my child wants to go into town, and I say, "No, sit down and do your lesson." The child obeys. That is very nice and right. But Christ never obeyed like that. The proper character of Christian obedience is that the motive for doing a thing is that it is God's will.
Whoever the opponents are, one writer insists that the order matters. You start with your own thoughts.
Why does evil lift its head while we cannot go out to meet it in the strength of God as we should? Is it not because we go out before we have judged ourselves? We fail to get down on our faces and ask God to search our hearts. We fail to take every thought captive to obey Christ first. then we can deal with the evil. A man that judges himself in the presence of God is the man who can go out and conquer for God.
- Enemy — the adversary holds the strongholds. He is dug into human hearts, filled with reasonings that lift themselves against the knowledge of God.
- Weapons — human tools are useless here. Human nature cannot subdue human nature. Only spiritual weapons win, and only when used God's way.
- Advance — the armour of Ephesians 6 mostly defends. This warfare attacks. It goes out to pull down proud, self-satisfied thinking.
- Capture — the word pictures thoughts led away as prisoners. Thoughts slip away from us, which makes this the hardest capture of all.
- Obedience — the goal is Christ's own kind of obedience, where you act because it is God's will. It starts with judging yourself, before you face evil outside.