Taking Thoughts Captive
Or: a brief word on 2 Corinthians 10:5
One of the more helpful and edifying exercises we can do, as the occasion arises, is re-examine verses of Scripture that have become so familiar as to become merely by-words; for if there is one thing Scripture should never be, it is a by-word, for Scripture is God’s word.
I have in mind at this particular moment one such verse that almost completely flips in purpose and intent when it is understood properly. It is one of those verses that is typically quoted in isolation – which is not in itself a bad thing, except for when we have lost sight of the surrounding verses that provide situational context. Anytime we quote a verse in isolation we run the risk of having that verse stare back at us, with its eyes askew and arms outstretched, saying, "Yes, here I am, but what have you done with all my context?"
Alas, a dedicated post on biblical illiteracy must wait for another time. In the meantime, the verse I have been opaquely referring to is 2 Corinthians 10:5 – or, should I say, only the middle of 2 Corinthians 10:5, which reads, “[we] take every thought captive to obey Christ.”
Whose Thoughts?
Now, this verse is normally used to encourage us to practice self-control with our own thoughts — which we certainly ought to do! We are indeed to be sober-minded, not dawdling with our minds or letting corrupt images wallpaper our inner sanctum, so to speak (cf. 1 Peter 5:8; Proverbs 12:5, 15:26). All true.
But that is not what 2 Corinthians 10:5 is primarily referring to; and all you have to do in order to see that, though I speak as one out of his mind, is go back a few verses, like so:
“For the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh but have divine power to destroy strongholds. We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ” (2 Corinthians 10:4–5).
I trust that we can all now see the matter plainly: this verse is about taking the thoughts of other people captive. This is about the warfare we wage to bring rebels to the obedience of Christ. This is about the conquest of our Imperator Ecclesiae, our Emperor of the Church: Christ. But far from being slavery, this is actually freedom from Satan — for it is only under the Lordship of Christ that we are truly free (cf. Galatians 5:1).
Inquisitive Minds Want to Know About the Inquisition
But this being the case, we are now at precisely the point where we are apt to misunderstandings. Someone will hear such words and think, "So if this passage isn’t about self-control of our own thoughts, but rather taking captive the rebellious thoughts of others, are we to resurrect the Spanish Inquisition?" Well, in the words of Paul: heavenly days and God forbid!
Taking thoughts captive to Christ (which we Christians ought to do) is not done through compulsion. We are not going for a baptized caliphate. Rather, knowing the fear of the Lord, we seek to persuade people (2 Corinthians 5:11). Once again, refer to the verses above: our weapons are not carnal: we do not hold 9MM pistols to people's heads and force them to say "Christ is Lord." We do not hold them at knife-point and tell them to recite the Apostles' Creed on pain of death. We do not give people a choice between being baptized or being fire-bombed. We sit down over a cup of steaming hot coffee and we talk and reason together; we practice hospitality and invite people to our dining room tables to break bread and see what a Christian family looks like in its natural habitat; we go under the waters of baptism and we partake of the Lord’s Supper and we sing songs and hymns and spiritual songs; we even, if we are really in a desperate way, write on Substack of the goodness and glory of the Lord.
But this is all to say that such acts are indeed warfare, and that we are by the grace of God trying to take rebellious thoughts captive for the sake of ultimate freedom. This is no Sunday stroll through a park; but it is the outflow of Sunday morning worship. And in warfare, there are combatants, so one does indeed have to be prepared to take return fire, as it were. And as a friend of mine recently and well said, "I did not go looking for the culture war; the culture war came to me." That is to say, Christians in the West really do have to get used to this idea that, in the words of Aragorn, open war is upon us whether we would risk it or not.
And that means we are called, each in our own way, place, and vocation, to take thoughts captive to the obedience of Christ. This does not mean every single conversation you have with an unbeliever must be a straight-up gospel "pitch" anymore than in warfare you must attack an enemy stronghold head on. You certainly can do those things, and quite frankly that would be much better than doing nothing; but even better would be to act as innocently as doves and wisely as serpents .
I should probably provide at least one example of what I'm driving at here. Suppose you have a co-worker who is really caught up into the woke insanity of our time, but who really is jazzed about the idea of human rights. Well and good. We Christians are also jazzed about human rights. But unlike our friend, we have the pleasure of knowing whence such rights originate and derive: namely, they find their source in the fact that all human beings bear the image of God and are thus to be treated in kind (cf. Genesis 1:26-27; James 3:8-10).
And so, you might simply get into a conversation and ask, "I'm glad you're championing human rights, but I'm just wondering: where do you think those rights come from?" Now you are subtly working to take thoughts captive. I grant, of course, that there are some who are so hardened that they will not hear the voice of reason, let alone the voice of Christ -- but there are many who, like the Israelites in the days of Elijah, are simply limping between two opinions; and even if the most hard-hearted pagans refuse to lay down their arms, you may incidentally induce the surrender of some sentry on the wall who was eavesdropping.
