Last week’s eNews prompted an interesting response from one of its readers. The part that stirred discussion was my apparent disregard for Satan’s significance. Referring to the Lord’s words in Luke 22:53, I insisted that Jesus was not referring to Satan by the phrase “power of darkness.” I claimed sin was the power Jesus was talking about, implying I’m not one to give Satan credit as an all-consuming “power.” I did say that Satan is a big deal. Of course, if he weren’t, the Lord wouldn’t have needed to face off with him in all the ways He did. That certainly means the Devil is not to be trifled with. Still, he’ll forever be an agent of sin and nothing more. And so, when the Lord says to Judas, “This is your hour,” He’s speaking to Judas directly and engaging with the one actively inspiring his deeds—Satan. However, when the Lord adds, “and the power of darkness,” He’s referring to sin’s consuming reign in this world. I might consider adding death to the equation. Saint Paul certainly noted its relationship to sin. He wrote that sin once had dominion over us. Within this dominion, he explained that “just as sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men because all sinned” (Romans 5:12).

Looking at what I just wrote, I think I’ll add it to this morning’s sermon manuscript. It certainly fits. One of my goals is to paint a portrait of sin’s deepest significance for the listeners.

Getting back to my original thought, I suppose if I’m wrong about this detail concerning Satan, I’m sure others will be willing to say so. Either way, we’ll find out on that great and glorious day. In the meantime, I won’t go looking for reasons (even biblical ones) to stroke Satan’s ego. He’s been defanged. I have nothing to fear from him, the toothless punk that he is.

Regardless of the person, if someone writes or says something worth remembering, I’ll file the truth of the words away. I do this mentally and physically. That said, I have various quotations printed and taped to the bookshelves in my office. I’ve had one for over a decade from Father Gabriel Amorth. He was the Roman Catholic Church’s chief exorcist for many years. It seems he’s somewhat popular, having become the subject of a recent film starring Russel Crowe. I appreciated something he said during a 2001 interview with an Italian news magazine. The interviewer asked Amorth, “Are you afraid of the Devil.” His response was as it should be:

“Afraid of that beast? He’s the one who should be afraid of me. I work in the name of the Lord. He is only an ape of God.”

As I acknowledged, Satan is a big deal. He’s clever. He’s tenacious. He’s strong. Even Jesus admitted this. In Luke 10, the Lord told His listeners, “When a strong man, fully armed, guards his own palace, his goods are safe” (v. 21). The term “strong man” was a familiar reference to Satan, and so, Jesus’ listeners knew who he was talking about. Still, the Lord concluded the acknowledgment of Satan’s strength as quickly as He began it, turning His listeners’ attention toward Himself, “But when one stronger than he attacks him and overcomes him, he takes away his armor in which he trusted and divides his spoil” (v. 22).

Yes, the Devil is strong. But Jesus is stronger.

In the scheme of things, the Lord spoke the words in Luke 10 well before venturing toward His death on the cross. Doing so, He assured us that the Devil was about to be disarmed and stripped of everything. Later in Luke 22, the time finally arrived for head-to-head combat. The strong man led a contingent to meet the Stronger Man praying in the Garden of Gethsemane. Strangely, the Stronger Man said to the strong man, “This is your hour” (v. 53). In other words, Jesus submitted at that moment and, as such, invited the Devil to do his level best to lay the Lord low. If you keep reading, you’ll see that the Devil embraced the challenge, ultimately delivering measures of dreadfulness we’ll never fully know.

But the strong man’s fun ended when the Stronger Man cried out, “It is finished” (John 19:30). Of course, the Lord’s cry was declarative. He was announcing that the price for our redemption had been fully paid. With a sense for Easter, His words can be heard as, “Alright, that’s enough. It’s my turn, now.” Because it was. By His death, the Stronger Man endured in our place against the strong man’s fury. In that same moment, the unholy trinity of sin, death, and Satan was ultimately taken to the mat and pinned. The Stronger Man walked away at the end of the three-day count, leaving the strong man defeated.

As believers, the Stronger Man is with us (Matthew 28:20). He claimed us as His own in our baptism (Matthew 28:19, Romans 6:3-8, Galatians 3:27, Revelation 7:14-17). We are not apart from Him. We are in Him, and He is in us (John 14:19-20), and greater is the One we bear (1 John 4:4). Because of this, the Devil has every reason to fear God’s people and not the other way around. We confessed as much at Lent’s beginning when we prayed the Litany here at Our Savior in Hartland last Sunday. At one moment along the way, we boldly petitioned that God would continue “to beat down Satan under our feet.”

By the power of the Holy Spirit for faith, that’s precisely what Christian feet can do.

Scan the Church’s hymnody. You’re sure to discover this kind of Christian confidence. You’ll likely experience just how penetrating this reality has been for Christians throughout history. Luther’s great hymn, “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God,” is a perfect example. Stanza three offers with astounding conviction:

Though devils all the world should fill,
All eager to devour us,
We tremble not, we fear no ill.
They shall not overpower us.
This world’s prince may still
Scowl fierce as he will,
He can harm us none.
He’s judged; the deed is done;
One little word can fell him.

Another is Erdmann Neumeister’s “God’s Own Child I Gladly Say It.” A middle stanza of this exceptional hymn demonstrates the same certainty, proving itself emboldened enough to impose demands on Satan:

Satan hear this proclamation:
I am baptized into Christ!
Drop your ugly accusation,
I am not so soon enticed.
Now that to the font I’ve traveled,
All your might has come unraveled,
And, against your tyranny,
God, my Lord, unites with me!

Perhaps another—Jacob Fabricius’ “O Little Flock, Fear Not the Foe”—spends a stanza mocking the Devil and his crew, calling their might “a joke, a mere façade!” Indeed, for those grafted to Christ (John 15:5), Satan is a joke, the kind that prompts regular laughter throughout heaven’s gloriously cavernous halls.

I don’t necessarily want to belabor the point. Suffice it to say that while I’ll admit the Devil is trouble, I do not fear him. By God’s gracious care, I can live with no small measure of certainty that he should fear me. And why? It’s not because of who I might claim to be of myself. It’s because of who claimed me and now stands between me and the strong man: The Stronger Man! And so, just as Luther so famously said, if the Devil would pull me down, he would first need to overcome the One who is my Redeemer and Defender. Christ is mine, and I am Christ’s. Period. I’m happy to let the Devil put that in his pipe and smoke it while I move on to more important things.