Standing Firm in the Evil Day

“For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world…”

—Ephesians 6:12

When Paul wrote these words, he was not speaking metaphorically about vague personal problems. He was writing as a man deeply familiar with empire, law, and state power. Paul lived under Roman rule, a system that enforced order through military might, legal control, and rigid social hierarchies. Roman law determined whose bodies mattered, whose relationships were legitimate, and whose lives could be constrained—or erased—for the sake of stability.

Paul himself had been imprisoned, beaten, and placed under house arrest. His letters were often written under surveillance or confinement. When he spoke of “rulers,” “authorities,” and “powers,” his audience would have understood that he was referring to real governing structures—political, legal, and religious systems that claimed ultimate authority over people’s lives.

And yet Paul is careful. He does not encourage violent revolt. He does not call for vengeance. Instead, he reframes the struggle. The problem is not individual people, but systems shaped by fear, domination, and exclusion. These systems, Paul insists, are not aligned with God’s reign—even when they wrap themselves in moral or religious language.

That is why he urges believers to “take up the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to withstand on the evil day, and having done everything, to stand.” (Ephesians 6:13)

The armor Paul describes—truth, righteousness, faith, salvation—mirrors the equipment of Roman soldiers, but with a radical twist. This armor is not meant to harm others. It is meant to protect the vulnerable soul against a world that demands conformity at the cost of integrity.

For LGBTQ+ Christians, this history matters. Unjust laws today—those that restrict healthcare, criminalize identity, undermine families, or legitimize discrimination—function much like the systems Paul knew. They are often justified as “order,” “morality,” or “tradition,” but their real effect is harm. They tell certain people that their lives are suspect, their love illegitimate, and their presence a problem to be managed.

Paul’s words remind us that standing firm against such systems is not rebellion against God—it is fidelity to God.

Paul also knew that resistance cannot survive on anger alone. That is why he tells the Philippians:

“Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just… think about these things.”

—Philippians 4:8

In a world that constantly told early Christians they were dangerous, deviant, or disposable, Paul urged them to guard their inner lives. Fixing our minds on truth and justice is an act of spiritual resistance. It keeps oppressive systems from colonizing our hearts.

And finally, James offers wisdom born from a persecuted community as well:

“Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will exalt you.”

—James 4:10

Humility here is not submission to injustice. It is a refusal to let power define worth. Early Christians had little social standing, no legal protection, and few allies. Their hope rested not in empire, but in God’s faithfulness to lift up those the world pushed down.

That hope continues to sustain LGBTQ+ Christians today.

• To stand firm is to say: we will not internalize lies about who we are.

• To resist unjust systems is to say: God’s justice is larger than human law.

• To take up the armor of God is to protect love, truth, and dignity—especially when they are under threat.

The call remains the same across centuries:

• Stand.
• Not in hatred.
• Not in despair.

But in faith that the God who sees injustice also walks beside those who refuse to bow to it.