John Piper

Satan, the ‘Prince of the Air’ — What Does That Mean?

Audio Transcript

Welcome back to the podcast as we begin this June together. Pastor John, today in our Bible reading we arrive at Ephesians 2:1–10 — an incredibly important text, and one you have mentioned in your works over 1,400 times over the decades. It is a mega-text in your legacy, I would call it, one you could talk about for hours and hours on end. But it includes a curious little line that you rarely talk about, especially compared to the other glorious points Paul makes here. I’m talking about the singular title he gives to the devil — that the devil is “the prince of the power of the air” (Ephesians 2:2).

All sorts of interpretations have been suggested for this over the decades. Historically, back in the 1920s and 1930s, as gospel programming was first introduced to broadcast radio, one critique said that any attempt to preach over the airwaves was “doomed to fail” because such ministry “operates in the very realm in which Satan is supreme. Is he not ‘the prince of the power of the air’?” So, there’s like a cosmological dimension to his reign.

That argument is basically dead today, but questions remain. APJ listeners want to know what that means that Satan is the “power of the air”? One of our listeners, named Emon, wants to know “if this implies that Satan is omnipresent or all-seeing.” Other listeners want to know how Satan influences “the air” and how it is that his reign as “the prince of the power of the air” leads him to coerce disobedience from sinners, as Paul implies here in the broader context of Ephesians 2:1–3. What kind of power, Pastor John, is Paul ascribing to the devil in this verse?

Well, first, let me suggest a principle of interpretation that I think is really important, especially for a certain mindset that is constantly fascinated with marginal, uncertain things in the Bible instead of being thrilled with central, sure, glorious things in the Bible. The principle is this: don’t let speculations about what you don’t know control or dominate the things that are clear in the Bible that you do know. That’s the principle. We know many clear, true things about Satan and his work in the world that are stated plainly in the Bible, and it would not be wise to start speculating about what we are unsure of — namely, the meaning of air in “the prince of the power of the air” — in a way that would contradict or dominate those clear, true things.

“Don’t let speculations about what you don’t know control or dominate the things that are clear in the Bible.”

Scholars and commentators, including me, are not generally confident or certain about why Satan is called “the prince of the power of the air” in Ephesians 2:2. There are pointers — I won’t stop here; I have something to say; we’re not left in the dark about what this probably signifies — but it would be unwise to put too much emphasis on what I’m about to say, because even though it’s important (it’s in the Bible), it’s not nearly as important as other clear things, I think, even in these verses and elsewhere in the New Testament. So, that’s the first thing, a principle.

Clearing the Air

The second thing we need to do, just by way of preparation, is to clear away some confusion. To say that Satan is “the prince of the power of the air” does not mean we should stop living and breathing and speaking and looking through the air. Air is what exists between the page of the Bible and your eye. Air is what exists between the preacher’s mouth and your ear. To say that we shouldn’t broadcast the truth through airwaves would also mean you shouldn’t preach into the air or look at the Bible through the air. That’s nonsense.

There’s a battle to be fought with the prince of the air, but you don’t fight it by stopping hearing through the air or seeing through the air or moving through the air. Okay, let’s just get that out of the way. To claim that you shouldn’t do radio or Wi-Fi or something like that is to over-prove what you’re trying to do, because it’s going to cancel out all preaching and all Bible reading, which happen through the air.

And we can add this: the fact that Satan has some measure of authority in the air does not imply that he’s omnipresent or omniscient. We are not told in the Bible the extent of Satan’s knowledge or how a non-spatial reality like a spirit — which he’s called in this very verse, “the spirit” that is dominating “the sons of disobedience” — with no up, down, or sideways reality, positions himself in the world. But he’s not God. He does not share God’s omniscience and omnipresence, but we do know that he has many unclean spirits, demons, at his disposal, and they are deployed all over the world in the air. The air is where his flaming arrows fly, according to Ephesians 6:16.

Evaluting the Enemy

Here’s what Paul said; let’s get the text in front of us:

You were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the [age, sometimes translated “the course”] of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience. (Ephesians 2:1–2)

So, here are some pointers that collectively bring some clarity, I think, to this term “prince of the power of the air.”

1. Air Above Us

First, the air is simply what Paul and people in his time called the space above the earth, and they had no scientific awareness of how high the air went. As far as they knew, it just went on and on, so human life takes place in the lower part of this air where it meets the earth. That’s where we live. That’s point number one. It’s just a general statement about the sphere of our life.

2. Layers of Air

Second, in Matthew 6:26, Jesus says, “[Consider] the birds of the air.” Now, the reason that’s significant is because the word translated air is heaven. It’s translated heaven almost everywhere. The term heaven in the New Testament was very broad in its usage, referring to layers that are above the earth, sometimes called the sky. Nehemiah 9:6 refers to “heaven [and] the heaven of heavens,” where the stars are. And Psalm 148:4 refers to the “highest heavens.” In 2 Corinthians 12:2, Paul refers to “the third heaven.”

“We have the victory over this one with whom we are contending in the air.”

Since Jesus uses the word heaven interchangeably with air, where the birds fly, we can think of various layers of air or heaven. There are these heavens. In fact, the word heaven is regularly used in the plural, I think probably because it’s thought of in terms of these various layers. This is probably why Paul refers so often, like in chapter 6, to heavens where the battle with Satan happens, he says (Ephesians 6:12). So, that’s number two.

3. Seated in Heaven

Third, the term “prince of the power.” Just take those two words. “Prince of the power,” “ruler of authority” — archonta tēs exousias — is exactly the same as those two terms four verses earlier in Ephesians 1:20–21, where it says God raised Christ “and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places [the heavens], far above all rule and authority.” Now, that’s the phrase that describes the devil, “rule and authority” — “far above all rule and authority.” Far above the devil. Far above the prince of the power, the ruler of the authority, of the air.

So Satan, though he has a measure of rule and authority in the air or the heavens, is not God. He’s vastly under God. Christ is vastly superior to, over, has authority over him — so Satan’s rule in the power of the air, or in the lower air of the heavens, is not supreme. He is decisively defeated. Colossians 2:15 says, “[God] disarmed the rulers and authorities,” and that’s exactly the same phrase as “the prince of the power.” Ephesians 2:2: “The prince of the power of the air” is “the rulers of the authority of the air,” and that has been decisively disarmed at the cross.

So, he’s mortally wounded. A decisive battle has been fought, and we in Christ have a victory over him. And when it comes to Ephesians 6:12, where it says, “We do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities” — same phrase as back in Ephesians 2:2 — “in the heavenly places,” those heavenly places are evidently layers of heavens, the layers of the air above the earth but below the highest heaven, where Christ sits supreme, governing all things. And we have the victory over this one with whom we are contending in the air.

4. ‘God of This World’

Fourth, Paul calls Satan “the god of this world” in 2 Corinthians 4:4. I think “god of this world” and “ruler of the authority of the air” are virtually interchangeable terms, with the world being the sphere in which we live and the air being the sphere in which we live. They refer to the same thing.

Live with Boldness

So, here are four implications I draw from Paul’s calling Satan the prince of the power of the air:

Satan is a spirit who is invisible like air, not like flesh and blood, according to Ephesians 6:12.
There’s no place to go while we breathe air where the flaming arrows of Satan will not fly through the air at us (Ephesians 6:16).
Any place we go where there’s air, heaven, sky, space, we will need to wear the armor of God and do battle with the word of God and the shield of faith.
Christ is exalted as King to the highest heaven, above all rule and authority. The prince of the power of the air is not sovereign. He is on a leash.

John says, “The whole world lies in the power of the evil one” (1 John 5:19), but those who are born of God he cannot touch; he cannot destroy (1 John 5:18). We should believe that; we should take up the armor of God and live with that kind of boldness.

If I’m Not Elect, How Am I Guilty for Not Believing?

If God has not chosen to save me, then why would he condemn me for not believing? Pastor John explains the kind of inability that does not remove responsibility.

If I’m Not Elect, How Am I Guilty for Not Believing?

Audio Transcript

Welcome back to the podcast. As you page through the new APJ book, you’ll see some of the ways we’ve talked about election and predestination over the years. The fallout of this doctrine of God’s sovereignty over who is saved in the end leads to many, many questions about whether this is fair or unfair and whether election excuses the non-elect from their unbelief. You’ll see those themes compiled on pages 355–64.

We’re right back into this theme today in an email question from a listener named John. “Hello, Pastor John! I have often heard nonbelievers blaming God for not electing them and giving them a new heart to have faith. How can I persuade them that it is not God’s fault but their own unbelief? My friend’s son professed to be a Christian and even evangelized people and led people to God. But later, while in college, he realized he was not a true believer and left the faith. He now blames God for not electing him. How would you counsel this young man?”

Well, let me clarify immediately that I do agree with the premise that there is such a thing as unconditional election by God — namely, that everyone whom God decisively saves, whom he brings out of darkness to light, brings out of the bondage of sin and unbelief, he does not decide to do that on the spur of the moment, as though there were no plan. Rather, he saves in accordance with his infinite wisdom and plan, which he has had in mind forever. Ephesians 1:4 says, “[God] chose us in [Christ] before the foundation of the world.” So, when he saved me, he saved me according to an electing plan.

Physically Free, Morally Bound

So, the question being asked is this: Why are people whom God does not save according to his purpose and plan nevertheless accountable? That is, they are not able to relieve themselves of the responsibility to believe and trust God because God has not planned to save them.

“God has his wise and holy reasons for why he does not overcome the rebellion of everyone.”

Now, I think a helpful place to begin in talking about the accountability of people to embrace and treasure the truth of God that they have access to is to distinguish two kinds of inability, because the kind of objection we’re dealing with here is that someone is saying, “I am required to believe, but I don’t have the ability to believe. And not having the ability to believe means I’m not responsible to believe.” These two kinds of inability that I’m talking about are moral inability and physical inability.

Physical inability is when you’re required to do something, but you do not have the physical ability to do it. For example, you’re chained to a pillar in a burning house, and you’re commanded to realize there’s a fire and to get out, but the chains physically keep you from moving. So, in that case, we would say that you are not accountable for remaining in the house. You may have wanted with every will in you to move and get out, but you were physically unable.

But there’s another kind of inability, which we call moral inability. You’re not physically limited or restrained, but your moral preferences — what you experience as good and bad, pleasing and displeasing, desirable and undesirable — are so strong in one direction that you may be unable to act contrary to those preferences. So, this time, you may be in the burning house, and you are not physically restrained at all, but you love what you’re doing in this house at this moment. You love it so much, you prefer it so much, you desire it so much, you find it so pleasing that you will not even believe every credible testimony that the house is on fire and you must get out, and you die.

So, you are physically free, but you are morally bound. You are in bondage to act according to those overpowering desires and die.

God’s Sovereign Grace

Now, I think the Bible teaches that if you are not free in the physical sense, you are not responsible to act according to the truth. You are physically unable to see or do (Romans 1:18–23, if we had time to talk about it — I’ll let you look it up). But if you are not free in the moral sense because your desires are so corrupt and so contrary to truth, you are nevertheless responsible to act according to the truth (Romans 2:4–5). Responsibility to forsake sin and trust Christ is not nullified because of our sinful desires, because they’re so strong that we are morally unable to turn away from sin.

In election, God freely chose, graciously chose, to set people free from this bondage of moral inability — to set people free from loving evil so much that they are morally unable to choose the good. None of us would be saved if God had not done this for us. The final and decisive answer to why I or you believed in Jesus and were set free from our bondage to the love of self and sin is the sovereign grace of God. As the apostle Paul said, God made us alive when we were dead (Ephesians 2:5). God granted us to believe (Philippians 1:29). God overcame our hardness against him (Ephesians 4:18). God gave us the ability to see the glory of Christ and the true and desirable Christ hanging on the cross (2 Corinthians 4:6).

“You cannot use non-election as an excuse for loving the dark more than the light.”

He does this for millions of people, and it is owing to nothing in us. It is free. God has his wise and holy reasons for why he does not overcome the rebellion of everyone. The fact that God does — in his mercy and the freedom of his grace — overcome the sinful corruption and rebellion and resistance of many does not mean he’s obliged to do it for anybody. Nobody deserves it, and nobody has a right to complain if he does not do it for them.

Final Verdict

So, let’s imagine a person coming to me as a pastor and saying to me, “Pastor, I believe that God has not loved me and has not set me free from my sin and my unbelief because I am not elect. And therefore, I believe God is to be blamed. He’s guilty of evil.” I would say to him, “How do you know that you are not among the elect?”

Now, perhaps he would say, “Because he hasn’t taken away my rebellion,” to which I would say, “But that does not prove you’re not elect, because he might take away that rebellion in the next hour or the next day or year. So really, how do you know that you are not elect?”

“Well,” he might say, “maybe I don’t know for sure I’m not elect, but if I’m not elect, then I’m not responsible to believe,” to which I would say, “Why don’t you believe and receive Jesus right now? You can’t say it’s because you’re not elect — you don’t know that. And you can’t know that ever, till the day you die. You can never say with any authority, ‘I’m not elect.’ You don’t know. But you can know that you are elect because only the elect receive Jesus. So, tell me right now, why don’t you believe and so prove that you are elect?”

Now, I don’t know what he’s going to say at this point. He might be honest and say, “Because I don’t find him very attractive. I don’t find Jesus compelling.” Or “I don’t find his way of life that he requires of me to be desirable.” Or “I don’t like Christians.” Or “I don’t think the Bible is true.”

I will say, “That’s right. That’s right. And if those are your last words, they will be your condemnation at the last day — not the fact that you are not elect. That fact will not enter into your judgment at all. You were presented with Christ — the most valuable, beautiful person in the universe — and you did not find him to be true or desirable. That will be the case against you at the last day. You cannot use non-election as an excuse for loving the dark more than the light. You will be self-condemned.”

What Shia LaBeouf Gets Wrong About Joy

Audio Transcript

Happy Memorial Day today for those of you here in the States. Last time, we looked at the sanctifying power of Christ on the cross. That was episode 2048. In our Bible reading together, we’ve been reading Mark 15 recently, about the death of Christ. It’s been a theme for us. And today we return to the cross by doing something different, Pastor John. I want you to respond to a viral video clip going around from a pretty well-known actor named Shia LaBeouf. He’s 37. He was converted to Roman Catholicism in recent years. He starred in the 2022 film Padre Pio, a movie named after a Catholic priest, mystic, and so-called venerated saint. Not long ago, in an interview, the actor was discussing the connection between Christ’s suffering and joy, and it generated some emails for you, all asking for your response.

Before we get to what he said, let me footnote a few caveats. It should be first said that the New Testament never speaks of individuals as saints. That’s a Catholic myth. Saints is a corporate title for all Christians. And I’m unsure if this actor understands the gospel, that Christ paid for the guilt of our sin by satisfying the wrath of God. He tends to speak of the cross as more of a moral model — Christ died mainly as an example for us. And he’s obviously very comfortable with images of Christ — crucifixes and paintings. Those are several factors I want to acknowledge at the front end of this episode and set aside for now. I don’t want to get into any of those.

As Shia spoke, my mind went to Hebrews 12:2 — a text you’ve brought up in 25 episodes on the podcast over the years, Pastor John, so I can see why listeners want you to weigh in and respond to what was said. I’ll read what he said and then ask you, on behalf of those listeners who emailed, What does this actor get right and what does he get wrong about the joy of Christ on the cross? Here’s what he said.

When I look at Christ on the cross, I think, hmm, is that a joyful man as he bleeds out and dies on a cross for humanity? Is that man joyful? And I think the answer is yes, that even in his suffering — that’s what Christ represents for me: meaningful suffering. The story of Christ is that God became man for our betterment. So, that means that he is the ultimate example, the supreme priest, the ultimate redeemer. If I look at Christ on the cross, I think, That’s very instructive. You don’t see a lot of smiley-face Christs on the cross. You don’t see Christ on the cross dying and laughing with aplomb — in joy, in ultimate joy. But I think they should make some Christs on the cross in ultimate serenity and ultimate joy. They always make this sad face. And that seems stupid. It seems like it’s not deep enough, like the artists who manufacture those crucifixes — it’s almost like they’re not seeing the full story. And the full story, I believe, is that Christ is in maximum joy in that moment. He is fully in his purpose. If you can tap into how you can use your suffering to help other people, that is maximum joy.

What strikes you?

What strikes me first is that I’m not sure what he means by joy and what he means by suffering even. It’s hard to respond with a clear yes or no to what he’s saying when he seems to switch categories on me. I’ll try to point out what I mean by this ambiguity by suggesting several positive responses. So, I’ll try to be positive before I’m negative.

Christ’s Purposeful Suffering

For example, he uses the phrase “meaningful suffering,” and I can’t escape the impression that he might mean that this phrase “meaningful suffering” is synonymous with “joyful suffering.” He says, “Is that man on the cross joyful? And I think the answer is yes, that even in his suffering — that’s what Christ represents for me: meaningful suffering.” So, he switches. He switches from joyful to meaningful, which is what throws me.

“What sustained Jesus was a confidently expected future experience of joy.”

Well, Christ’s suffering certainly was meaningful, right? Everybody would agree with that. Oh my goodness! His suffering carried more meaning in it than all the suffering of all the human beings in the world combined, because it carried in it the salvation of millions of people that nobody else’s suffering could do. So, that’s absolutely right: the suffering of Christ was not meaningless; it was infinitely meaningful. And if that’s what he means by joyful, it’s hard to disagree.

I see at least two other things that are positive. He says that Christ, at that moment of suffering, “is fully in his purpose.” That’s almost the same as saying that the suffering was meaningful — that is, it was fully purposeful. He was not being frustrated at that moment in his designs. He was accomplishing exactly what he came to do. Indeed, it is a satisfying thing to accomplish what you were designed to do. We all would agree with that. I’m doing what I was made to do. I’m doing what I came to do.

Then he applies that to us, and he says, “If you can tap into how you can use your suffering to help other people, that is maximum joy.” Well, the true part of that is that Jesus did say, “It is more blessed to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35). Living to make others glad in God is certainly a glad way of living, even through suffering.

When Is Maximum Joy?

But the question I have at this point is whether the moment of suffering is the moment of maximum joy. That’s my question. One biblical obstacle to thinking that way is Hebrews 12:2, which says, “Jesus . . . for the joy that was set before him endured the cross.” Notice that it does not locate the pinnacle of Jesus’s joy at the point of the cross, but on the other side of the cross. At the cross, the joy “was set before him.”

To be sure, Hebrews 11:1 teaches that, by faith, the substance of things hoped for — the substance of that future joy — can be tasted now. Yes, it can and is, even in our suffering. But that does not change the fact that the text says that what sustained Jesus was a confidently expected future experience of joy, whatever partial measure of it he might have tasted on the cross.

Another biblical factor that we have to, I think, take into account is that there are different kinds of experiences of joy and different degrees of joy, and not just because of sin. I don’t think joy goes up and down only because sin enters in. For example, in Luke 15:7 we are told that there is more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine who don’t need repentance. So, there’s very great joy in heaven, and there’s great joy in heaven — more joy and less more. And it’s not because there’s sin in heaven. There is no sin in heaven; that’s not what causes the difference.

So, it’s fair to say, isn’t it, that the sinless Christ may have tasted a kind of joy and a degree of joy as he suffered on the cross, but that there was a much fuller joy of a different kind even yet to be experienced beyond the cross.

It seems to me that Shia LaBeouf may be saying too much when he writes that some crucifixes should depict “ultimate serenity and ultimate joy.” I think any ordinary use of the word serenity would simply not fit the hours of Jesus’s horrific suffering. I just don’t think serenity is what you would see, nor should you explain it with that word. I think that would diminish the reality of his agony. I think to use the word ultimate to describe his joy is probably a failure to take into account that there will be more joy on the other side of death and resurrection and ascension.

Maintaining Mystery

Another biblical problem I have is that I think there’s probably a greater mystery at the moment of propitiation on the cross than he realizes. When Jesus says, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” that is the cry of the damned (Matthew 27:46). He is at that moment experiencing the outpouring of the wrath of God upon the sin of all his people. And I say it is a mystery because I don’t think we can give a sufficient account for how he can experience that damnation and joy simultaneously — at least, I don’t feel competent to rise to that level of sufficient explanation of what happened in that moment in the heart and mind of our Lord Jesus.

I’m not saying it’s impossible; I’m saying we need to tread very carefully here so as to give full measure to Christ’s mental and spiritual agony under the Father’s displeasure, even as we try to give proper measure to the fact that in himself Jesus had a clear conscience, and he was doing the absolutely right thing. It was meaningful; it was purposeful; it was the loving thing to do.

Maybe I should say one more thing before we stop our reflections. The mystery of Christ’s experience — indeed, the Father’s experience as Christ died on the cross — is expressed, I think, in Ephesians 5:2 in another way. Paul says, “Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.” A fragrant offering? Fragrant? Sweet smelling? Pleasing smelling? I take that to mean that God the Father was able, in some mysterious way, to pour out wrath on his beloved Son and know at the same time with approval that this sacrifice was beautiful, fragrant, pleasing, righteous, glorious — achieving everything that the two of them had designed and intended.

So, in summary, what I’m pleading for is a careful expression of the reality of Jesus’s suffering, the reality of being damned and forsaken, the reality of knowing that more joy lay ahead — all of that to temper any effort to describe the Lord’s experience on the cross as “ultimate joy.”

What Shia LaBeouf Gets Wrong About Joy

Is Shia LaBeouf right to say that Jesus experienced “maximum joy” as he died? Pastor John considers the joy set before Christ and the horrors of the cross.

Killing Lust with the Cross of Christ

Audio Transcript

Welcome back. As you know, on this podcast we cover the topic of lust from a variety of angles. We did so again on Monday. It’s probably the category of question we get asked about more than any other. You’ll see all the many ways this topic has come up on the podcast in that digest I put together on pages 309–329 in the new Ask Pastor John book.

On Monday, Pastor John, in APJ 2047, you encouraged a wife to confront her husband about erotic literature she found on his phone. And from confrontation comes conviction and repentance, we hope, which is part of the lifelong discipline of killing lust within ourselves. We must root the sin of lust from our lives. And to do that, we’d be helpless on our own. We couldn’t do it on our own. And so, we are not called to battle alone. Most notably, we have the gospel. And we need the gospel here because the only sin we can ever purge from our lives is canceled sin. Step 1: Sin is canceled by the blood of Christ; we are justified before God. Then, step 2: We purge that sin from our lives. We can’t ever get that backward. Sin canceled, then sin purged — another super important theme on the podcast over the years, as you can see in the APJ book on page 274.

So, using the gospel to purge sin is our topic today. It’s fitting because today in our Navigators Bible Reading Plan we are reading about the murder of Christ in Mark 15:33–41. Pastor John, you have talked about the role of visualizing Christ’s crucifixion in our battle against lustful thoughts. Lust is so often a visible battle. So, it makes sense that this battle is fought visually, or at least in the visuals of the imagination. For this purpose, you use an acronym. You created an acronym for this called ANTHEM. That’s important here, to fight lust, and particularly the H in ANTHEM, which you define as this: “Hold a beautiful vision of Jesus in your mind until it triumphs over the other sensual vision.” So, in the fight against lust, how important is it to have this “beautiful vision of Jesus,” and how does this work for you in the moment of temptation? What’s happening as you hold this image in your imagination?

Well, Tony, I’ve had history with really bad ways of using visualization in prayer. So, even though the question isn’t exactly that, let me start there.

Pictures can begin to displace the word of Scripture as the center of God’s saving communication. And that’s really dangerous. We can edge right up to and transgress the intention of the second commandment — “Don’t make any graven images for worship.” There’s an approach that I’ve run into — it’s pretty widespread; at least it was — to healing prayer where people are instructed to go back into their painful past and visualize a scene of, say, abuse, sexual abuse. And, for example, “Imagine Jesus, picture Jesus, walking into the room and picking you up and hugging you and caring for you.”

“One of my strategies in trying to obey Jesus is to fight nudity in my mind with Christ’s misery on the cross.”

And there are problems with that kind of counseling, it seems to me, because it’s foreign to Scripture. You don’t find any pattern quite like that in Scripture, and it’s usually slanted away from some of the aspects of the role that Jesus plays — namely, in providence portraying him only as a comforter and not as a sovereign, and not as a judge, and not as the one who’s going to handle that perpetrator with violence someday. It tends to be just soft and gentle and warm — and therefore slanted. It tends to oversimplify and over-psychologize what’s really needed.

The healing of the soul involves a profound spiritual perception not only of a tender, affectionate Jesus, but of the full meaning of the cross and the reality of the Holy Spirit and God’s ways and justice and judgments. So, there are real dangers that I’ve encountered in this whole area of visualization in prayer.

Visual Words

But let me get back to the positive side. Jesus is the eternal Word, and he became flesh (John 1:14). So, we know he had a body. People looked at him — they could see him with their physical eyes — unlike God the Father, who can’t be visualized in that way. I don’t think we should picture God the Father as a grandfather with a white beard. I think that’s a big mistake. But Jesus had flesh and bones.

And here’s another point: some words do not invoke visual realities — like love, hate, right, wrong, kind. Those are general, principial kinds of words. But other words do necessarily evoke images in our minds: cross, blood, nails, spear, side of body, hands, feet, thorns, beard, spit, rod, sun darkened, hill. You can’t say those words without seeing something, because those words are names of sights. You see a hand; you put a word on a hand; you expect people to process that word and have a kind of hand visualized in their mind — no specific hand, but the idea of hand is being visualized in their mind.

So, when you read, “About the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice” (Matthew 27:46), now you’ve got sounds as well. There are words that designate sounds, like loud voice. That word is supposed to conjure something in your mind concerning “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” (Matthew 27:46). And it was loud. The word loud is used to make you feel and think loud. And then Jesus calls out with a loud voice, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!” (Luke 23:46). The point of those very words is to get our minds hearing something, and words like beard and spit are supposed to get our minds seeing something.

“In Paul’s mind, the faith to kill sin every day in his life was strengthened by remembering the love of Christ.”

And then here’s one pointer from the apostle that inclines me to go ahead and form this image in my mind. Galatians 3:1: “O foolish Galatians! Who has bewitched you? It was before your eyes that Jesus Christ was publicly portrayed as crucified.” Now, what does that mean? I don’t think it means Paul got out a piece of chalk and drew Jesus, but it means, evidently, that he portrayed (with words through the gospel) the cross so vividly that he says, “It was like I was doing it before your very eyes.” He used the words eyes here. “It was before your eyes that Jesus Christ was publicly portrayed.”

So, maybe he means, “I’m embodying this with my sufferings; I’m speaking it in such a way that you can see it.”

Fight Image with Image

And so, back to ANTHEM and the whole battle with lust. One of my strategies, Tony, in trying to obey Jesus — tearing out my eyes, and putting sin to death, and counting myself dead — is to fight nudity (let’s just take that as a concrete example) in my mind with Christ’s misery on the cross. So, nudity is a picture in my mind. Now, I’ve argued that Christ’s misery on the cross is a picture in my mind. Christ died to make me pure. This lustful thought is not pure. Therefore, if I willingly hold this image in my mind, I’m taking a spear and thrusting it into the side of Jesus. I picture myself about to do that. I picture him saying, “I love you. I love you. I am dying to free you from that bondage to lust.”

And I picture a battered body — and maybe I should qualify: It’s not photographic. I don’t have a particular face in view; I don’t know what Jesus looked like. I don’t pick a movie star from The Passion of the Christ or whatever. I don’t have a particular face for me. He doesn’t look like any actor. I don’t get that specific. It’s a word-created picture, not a photo-created picture.

It’s what I think Paul did when he said in Galatians 2:20, “The life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me.” Now, he could have stopped right there, couldn’t he? But he added, “and gave himself for me.” In Paul’s mind, the faith to kill sin every day in his life was strengthened by remembering the love of Christ for him. And the love of Christ is emblazoned in Paul’s mind as he thought of him as crucified. “He gave himself for me.” And Paul saw crucified people. They were on the hills. It was horrible. And when he said, “Christ gave himself for me,” I can’t believe that he didn’t have some picture — if not photographic — in his mind of Christ suffering profoundly for his purity. And thus, his faith was empowered to defeat lust.

Killing Lust with the Cross of Christ

“Cross,” “nails,” “spear,” and “thorns” are words that evoke images in our minds — images with tremendous power to dispel lustful thoughts.

Ten Questions for Readers of Erotica

How should Christians think about sexually explicit material on the page rather than the screen? Pastor John offers ten questions for readers of erotica.

Ten Questions for Readers of Erotica

Audio Transcript

The battle against lust. That’s the topic this week — and the topic of many weeks before, and one of the most dominant themes in the history of our podcast, as you can see in the APJ book. There’s a time to defeat lust at the root, with the cross. That’s the theme that we’re going to pick up next time. But first, there’s a time to confront patterns of lust in others. That’s today, in this heartbreaking email from a surprised wife.

“Hello, Pastor John. My husband and I are both believers, married for decades, with a great marriage and solid relationship. Or so I thought. He never gave me any reason for doubt. He’s an elder in our local church. We’ve raised four children together, all happily married and serving the Lord in different capacities. But I recently discovered on his phone that he reads erotica — fictional stories filled with explicit sexual content. It’s not visual images or videos, not porn in the traditional sense, but lurid descriptions in written prose. It was very disturbing to me. He’s a well-respected businessman of integrity, so discovering this dark secret is disturbing and discouraging. How sinful is this genre? Should I confront him with it? I love him dearly, and he has been a very dedicated and loving husband, and I don’t want to jeopardize my relationship with him.”

It is seriously sinful, and you should definitely confront your husband with this. If he thinks it is insignificant and does not compromise his role as a church leader, then you should encourage him to share this with his fellow leaders, elders, and show them what he’s reading and confirm that they approve. I don’t doubt that this is a disqualifying sinful pattern. He needs to forsake this and seek forgiveness and purity of heart.

Now, I think maybe the most helpful thing I could do is to assist you in your difficult confrontation of your husband. So, what I want to do is give you — and anybody else who wants to listen in — ten questions that he should ask himself and that you can print out. (I don’t even know, Tony, whether all the people who listen to APJ realize that you have these transcribed, and then, when we post them on Desiring God, people can not only listen, but they can print them out. I’m drawing attention to that here because I think what might be helpful for this woman to do is to go to DG and print out these ten questions.)

“The heart is the primary seat of holiness, and the ear is as good a pathway of corruption as is the eye.”

And maybe you should go over them with your husband. I don’t think you should be at all ashamed that you sought out counsel about how to deal with this issue. You didn’t betray any confidences. Nobody knows but you and he what you’re dealing with. Nor do I think you should be ashamed of getting help in formulating these questions (namely, help from me). That’s what we do; that’s what we are in the ministry for. All of us are doing things to help each other. So, here are my ten questions that I think he should ask.

I would just say to all of our listeners, ask yourself these questions with regard to what you’re watching on TV, what you’re watching on videos, what you’re listening to, what kind of audiobooks you’re listening to, podcasts you’re listening to. These are really, really helpful questions for me, and I hope they will be for others.

Ten Searching Questions

Question 1: In this erotic reading, are you seeking and setting your mind on the things that are above, where Christ is?

If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. (Colossians 3:1–2)

Question 2: In this erotic reading, are you setting your mind on things of the flesh or of the Spirit?

Those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit. For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace. (Romans 8:5–6)

Question 3: In this erotic reading, are you thinking about what is honorable and pure and lovely and commendable?

Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. (Philippians 4:8)

Question 4: In this erotic reading, are you cultivating a heart that can see God?

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. (Matthew 5:8)

Are you helping that along?

Question 5: In this erotic reading, are you mistakenly assuming that the worst temptations come through the eye, not the ear?

But the temptation that ruined the whole world in Genesis 3 came through the ear, from Satan’s voice. And so did the temptation of Jesus in the wilderness. The heart is the primary seat of holiness, and the ear is as good a pathway of corruption as is the eye.

Question 6: In this erotic reading, would you mind if your fellow elders or church leaders knew what you were reading, or are you content to be a hypocrite?

Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you are like whitewashed tombs, which outwardly appear beautiful, but within are full of dead people’s bones and all uncleanness. So you also outwardly appear righteous to others, but within you are full of hypocrisy and lawlessness. (Matthew 23:27–28)

Question 7: In this erotic reading, do you pray with David for a pure heart?

Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me. (Psalm 51:10)

Are you praying that as you go there?

Question 8: In this erotic reading, are you setting up a base of operations for the flesh?

Put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision [literally, make no base of operations] for the flesh, to gratify its desires. (Romans 13:14)

Question 9: Is this erotic reading a sign of failing faith?

[The Holy Spirit] made no distinction between us [Jews] and [those Gentiles], having cleansed their hearts by faith. (Acts 15:9)

That’s what faith does: it purifies, it cleanses the heart. If this isn’t happening, faith is in a perilous condition.

Question 10: In this erotic reading, can Christ read it with you, or are you pushing him away and saying, in effect, that this lust is more desirable than fellowship with Christ?

God is faithful, by whom you were called into the fellowship of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. (1 Corinthians 1:9)

The Christian life is fellowship — sweet, close communion with Christ. Is that fellowship sustained through your erotic reading? Is he welcome to read along, or are you pushing him away?

Courageous Confrontation

Now, my counsel is that you — I’m speaking to the wife now — pray earnestly for the courage to confront your husband and that you pray for the preparation of his heart to receive your words.

I might just add that I don’t believe this humble, prayerful confrontation needs to be a contradiction of this wife’s heart of submission to her husband. Submission has never meant the endorsement of or the participation in a husband’s sin. In fact, the willingness to take the risk and point her husband to the Lord can be a beautiful act of submissive self-sacrifice in the service of her husband’s holiness. That’s what we’re going to pray for.

Warning Our Children of Rebellion

Audio Transcript

This week we are talking parenting. A mom’s role in raising boys — that was Monday, in episode 2045. And today, Pastor John, as I look ahead in our Navigators Bible Reading Plan, coming up on the docket here between May 20 and June 2, we’re about to encounter three long, detailed, and related stories of rebellion. Children who rebelled. I’m thinking of Absalom, Sheba, and Adonijah.

On this trio of rebels, back in 2018, in a tweet you said to parents: “Read to your children the stories of the rebellion of Absalom against David (in 2 Samuel 15:1–18:33) and the rebellion of Sheba (in 2 Samuel 20:1–26) and the rebellion of Adonijah (in 1 Kings 1:1–2:25). Then look them in the eye and say: ‘Rebellion against the Lord’s anointed never, never, never succeeds.’” These three long stories are loaded with cautionary details. Can you point out a couple of things that strike you that parents would press home to their children in such a reading? And I presume the “Lord’s anointed” here you refer to in your tweet is Christ himself — is that correct? What other lessons stand out as you prepare us to read these sections for ourselves and to make use of them in our homes?

I wrote that tweet because it seems so painfully obvious to me that young people — and I suppose, as well, old people — need to be warned not to go down a path that has proved over and over again to be a path of self-destruction. Young people don’t always see the outcome of a path that they’re on. They need to be warned. They may not heed the warning — these three in the story certainly didn’t — but they might. And whether they do or not, it’s the parents’ God-given duty to sound biblical warnings for their children.

Three Failed Rebellions

I was struck in this passage as I was reading through it, like I always do once a year. One after the other, rebellions arose against King David. David is the Lord’s anointed. How he relates to Christ we’ll get to in just a moment, but God has chosen David to be king over his people. Samuel had anointed him king, and God had clearly warned in Psalm 2 what a foolish and deadly thing it is to plot against the Lord’s anointed. It’s utterly futile. The Lord sits in heaven and laughs.

Nevertheless, Absalom (David’s son), Sheba (who’s called a “worthless fellow” from the tribe of Benjamin), Adonijah (David’s son born next after Absalom) — one after the other, these three men raised their hand in rebellion against the Lord’s anointed, and every one of them is killed because of it.

Absalom steals the hearts of the men of Israel right under David’s nose by promising them better justice than David was giving them. And he leads a rebellion and winds up with his beautiful head of hair caught in a tree, and he’s dangling there and speared to death by Joab’s men.

Sheba tries to exploit a division between the ten tribes and Judah, who are squabbling over who gets to bring David back after the triumphs over Absalom, and he tries to lead a rebellion by mobilizing those ten tribes against Judah and David. But he ends up with his head chopped off (by a wise woman in the city of Abel) and thrown over the wall to Joab.

“We can never use the sins of our parents to excuse our own sins.”

And then Adonijah tries to exploit David’s old age to become king instead of his father’s choice — Solomon, his brother — recruiting even Joab now to switch sides. And both of them, Joab and Adonijah, die. So it’s not a very propitious prospect for anybody who lifts his hands against the Lord’s anointed.

Here are several lessons that I see in these stories, and maybe some more details can come out as I give the lessons.

1. Prophesied sin does not excuse sin.

First, a prophecy of misery and conflict in a family does not excuse those who caused the misery and the conflict. David began his reign with adultery with Bathsheba, murdering Uriah, her husband. Nathan the prophet says to David, “Now therefore the sword shall never depart from your house, because you have despised me and have taken the wife of Uriah the Hittite to be your wife” (2 Samuel 12:10).

So, all these rebellions from his children and others are prophesied as part of the consequences of David’s sin. But there’s not a hint in the stories that Absalom and Sheba and Adonijah are excused for their wickedness and their rebellion because of this prophecy. Prophesied sin does not excuse the sinner. That’s lesson number one.

2. Failed parenting does not excuse sin.

Second — and a very similar point, but maybe one that can be felt today by contemporary people even more than that one — young people need to hear this: Failed parenting does not excuse the sin of the children. We can never use the sins of our parents to excuse our own sins. We are responsible for ourselves regardless of our backgrounds. We will be held accountable for our own sinful actions, and the failures of our parents will not remove our guilt.

First Kings 1:6 says, “[David] had never at any time displeased [Adonijah] by asking, ‘Why have you done thus and so?’” This is an indictment of David’s sinful doting on his sons, a failure to discipline. And it seems to me that he treated Absalom in the same way as Adonijah because, near the end, his leniency toward Absalom’s rebellion almost cost him his kingdom. Nevertheless, in spite of this parental failure, both Absalom and Adonijah are responsible for their own rebellious attitudes and their sins. They can’t blame it on their dad’s failures.

3. Rebellion arises from high and low places.

Third lesson: Rebellion can arise from a sense of privilege and entitlement, and it can arise from a sense of worthlessness that seeks to take advantage of a situation and rise to power.

Absalom and Adonijah were both highly privileged, not only because they were the sons of the king, but because both of them were explicitly said to be very handsome. The author goes out of his way to make the point that they were handsome, well-liked, well-connected. Sheba was a nobody. He’s called “a worthless man” (2 Samuel 20:1). He hadn’t made anything of his life. Absalom and Adonijah used their privilege to gain power and overthrow their father; Sheba shrewdly took advantage of a brewing conflict between the king’s subjects.

But in both cases, whether from privilege or poverty, they failed. The point is that poverty and power, high position and low position, being somebody and being nobody, is no justification for rebellion against the Lord’s anointed. Sin lurks in the low; sin lurks in the high. So, beware, young people, that you could justify a rebellion against the Lord’s anointed by either one.

4. Self-exaltation ends in destruction.

Fourth, “Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted” (Matthew 23:12) — the words of Jesus. The beginning of Adonijah’s story makes explicit the root of the problem. It goes like this: “Now Adonijah the son of Haggith exalted himself, saying, ‘I will be king’” (1 Kings 1:5). And the same is true of Absalom and Sheba. This is the great sin, the deep, deep sin of all children and all parents: a craving to be seen as great, a craving to be seen as powerful or beautiful or smart or cool or handsome or gutsy or rich, somehow to be seen better than others. “I want to be better” — like the apostles squabbled with each other to see who was the greatest.

“Rebellion against the Lord’s anointed absolutely cannot succeed.”

The Old Testament abounds with stories like these, designed to make Jesus’s point: “Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted” (Matthew 23:12). Noël and I are reading Isaiah right now. We just read last night about these oracles over and over again in Isaiah. The evil that God is punishing among the nations is pride, pride, pride — self-exaltation.

Submit to the Anointed One

So, finally, we should say that yes, David, the Lord’s anointed, was a type of Jesus Christ, a foreshadowing of King Jesus. Christ is the son of David. Christ is the final Anointed One. “Christ” (Christos) means “anointed.” And from these stories, we should warn our children — indeed, warn ourselves — that rebellion against the Lord’s anointed, David or Christ, absolutely cannot succeed. But to submit to him and see him as the great and glorious and wise and strong and just and gracious King that he is would satisfy our souls forever.

The glitzy promise of self-exaltation is a mirage, young people; it’s a mirage. Don’t go the way of Absalom or Sheba or Adonijah. It cannot succeed.

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