The Church at War

Why would Christian Scriptures commend people for waging war? War, after all, is nearly universally condemned – even as it remains a relentless curse in various corners of our world.

One young pastor was “charged” with a duty that belongs, by biblical extension, to all believers. “This charge I entrust to you [that] you may wage the good warfare, holding faith and a good conscience” (1 Timothy 1).

The reason followers of Jesus are encouraged to actively train for and engage in war is because our enemies are not other human beings. We discussed this fact in our last conversation, as we considered the theological concept of the Church Militant.

To call the Body of Christ “militant” is misleading to those who don’t understand spiritual warfare, the fact that “we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against . . . the cosmic powers over this present darkness . . .” (Ephesians 6).

Unfortunately, because all of us are imperfect (i.e. fallen), Christians can sometimes fail to distinguish between our true enemies and those who witlessly follow their banner. For an excellent discussion of this, from a Roman Catholic perspective, I recommend you read “The Church Militant or the Church Belligerent?

Another worthwhile read is “G.K. Chesterton and the March of the Church Militant.” There, Joseph Pearce shares Chesterton’s vivid description about how Gothic cathedrals visualize the martial aspect of the Christian Church.

The truth about Gothic [architecture] is, first, that it is alive, and second, that it is on the march. It is the Church Militant; it is the only fighting architecture.

All its spires are spears at rest; and all its stones are stones asleep in a catapult. In that instant of illusion, I could hear the arches clash like swords as they crossed each other. The might and numberless columns seemed to go swinging by like the huge feet of imperial elephants.

The graven foliage wreathed and blew like banners going into battle; the silence was deafening with all the mingled noises of a military march; the great bell shook down, as the organ shook up its thunder.

The thirsty-throated gargoyles shouted like trumpets from all the roofs and pinnacles as they passed; and from the lectern in the core of the cathedral the eagle of the awful evangelist crashed his wings of brass (“The Architect of Spears”).

As a master of words and wit, Chesterton’s writing rarely disappoints. You can download a free copy of The Man Who was Chesterton, which includes this essay, from Internet Archive.

C.S. Lewis did more to equip us for spiritual warfare with The Screwtape Letters than a thousand clergy with a hundred thousand sermons. As one Baptist theologian summed it up in an article about spiritual warfare:

On the subject of spiritual warfare, Lewis is a helpful guide. I’ll remember what he taught: There is an enemy. He seeks my destruction. And this is war.

There is a brilliant quote about this supernatural confrontation, ascribed (apparently in error) to the historical Martin Luther.

If I profess, with the loudest voice and the clearest exposition, every portion of the truth of God except precisely that little point which the world and the devil are at that moment attacking, I am not confessing Christ, however boldly I may be professing Christianity.

Where the battle rages the loyalty of the soldier is proved; and to be steady on all the battle-field besides is mere flight and disgrace to him if he flinches at that one point.

C.S. Lewis echoes this sentiment in The Magician’s Nephew. When Aslan questions the humble man whom he would crown the first King of Narnia, he poses a query which reveals the man’s courage and humility.

“And if enemies came against the land (for enemies will arise) and there was war, would you be the first in the charge and the last in the retreat?”

“Well, sir,” said the Cabby very slowly, “a chap don’t exactly know till he’s been tried. I dare say I might turn out ever such a soft ’un. Never did no fighting except with my fists. I’d try – that is, I ’ope I’d try – to do my bit.”

“Then,” said Aslan, “you will have done all that a King should do.”

If anyone would follow Christ, neutrality is not an option. Though some temporary retreats are inevitable, in God’s strength, we are empowered to continue our (in reality, the Lord’s) advance.

The battlelines are drawn, and they are real. As C.S. Lewis proclaimed in “Christianity and Culture” – “There is no neutral ground in the universe. Every square inch, every split second is claimed by God, and counterclaimed by Satan.”


The image above, “Livonian Sword Brother” (a member of a military monastic order) was created by JLazarusEB and is used here in compliance with the Creative Commons CC BY-NC-ND 3.0 License.

Deadly Gargoyles

gargoyle magdalenWhoever first considered gargoyles an attractive addition to buildings, must have had an odd personality. I have never developed an appreciation them.

What’s worse is when moonstruck (lunatic) architects deem gargoyles suitable for adorning churches.

There are too many examples out there to count. I am sure there are a number of websites devoted to them. But I don’t care enough to investigate.

It is one thing to shape a natural or fantastical creature to use as a rain spout on a building. Quite another, in my opinion, to opt for a grotesquery.

Churches should stick with symbolism that edifies the people. Admittedly, this can include some potentially gruesome subject, such as images of martyrdoms.

Our familiarity with the crucifix itself has dulled the impact of its terrible agony. We often fail to recognize the magnitude of the suffering Jesus endured.

Gargoyles were in the news this week. The reason for their appearance gave the title to this column.

A tragedy occurred in Chicago when a gargoyle broke free from a dated building and struck an innocent pedestrian. She was killed almost immediately by the crushing blow.

To make matters even more sad, the building from which the “ornament” fell was a church.

Second Presbyterian Church was built in 1874 and is a national historic landmark. Local news outlets report that it failed various inspections between 2007 and 2011, but passed them in 2012 and 2013. (The picture above is not of the gargoyle in question.)

Sarah was the name of the victim of this tragic accident. I invite your prayers on behalf of this young woman’s loved ones, especially her two children.

I think so little of church gargoyles that I included the subject in an as yet unpublished book set in the medieval period.

The nightmare gargoyle pictured on the top of the page adorns Magdalen College in Oxford. It was established in 1458, and was the school where C.S. Lewis began his teaching career.

In C.S. Lewis: An Examined Life, Bruce Edwards writes, “The college is noted for its wealth of gargoyles, grotesques, and stone portraits of notable people.”

Well, the college may be named after Mary Magdalene, but at least it isn’t a church. As for the stone “portraits,” they sound like a very agreeable adornment.

As lovely as Magdalen is considered to be, on the whole Lewis considered Cambridge University more appealing than Oxford. In a 1954 letter he wrote, “I’m afraid one must admit that, architecturally, Cambridge beats Oxford; there is so much more variety in Cambridge.”

In two other letters written the same year, Lewis revealed that there was much more to his new academic post than mere architecture that appealed to him. Oxford had taken Lewis for granted, and often belittled him because of his simplistic trust in Christ.

You know I am going as a Professor to Cambridge? My new college is Magdalene, Cambridge: a tiny little place compared with this, but a perfect gem architecturally and (I think) much more congenial socially & spiritually.

Did I tell you I’ve been made a professor at Cambridge? I take up my duties on Jan. 1st at Magdalene College, Cambridge (Eng.). Note the difference in spelling. It means rather less work for rather more pay. And I think I shall like Magdalene better than Magdalen. It’s a tiny college (a perfect cameo architecturally) and they’re so old fashioned, & pious, & gentle and conservative– unlike this leftist, atheist, cynical, hard-boiled, huge Magdalen. Perhaps from being the fogey and ‘old woman’ here I shall become the enfant terrible there.

It is not about architecture at all—or the presence or absence of grotesqueries. It is about finding a home where you know you are welcome and appreciated. A place where you do not need to remain constantly on your guard, because there are colleagues present who desire to see you humbled.

It is good to know C.S. Lewis spent the final years of his teaching life in an academic family that truly appreciated the gifted scholar in their midst.