The Devil Doesn’t Need You to Sin—He Just Needs You Distracted

The Last Judgment - John Martin -c1854

This past week I've been in the letters of Paul to the Corinthians. Only this morning I was on II Corinthians 4.

The world is not neutral. It’s not some spiritual Switzerland where one gets to decide whether truth matters or where one gets to define “their truth.” Yet there is one thing that St. Paul drops into the mix like a theological hand grenade in 2 Corinthians 4:4 and doesn't even flinch:

“The god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel…” II Cor 4:4

In other words? There’s a spiritual war going on, and most are sleepwalking through it.

So, let’s name this enemy: Satan. Not a Halloween costume. Not a cartoon character with horns. A real, personal intelligence who revels in deception and distraction. He doesn't need you to sacrifice a goat; he needs you to keep scrolling, keep numbing, keep operating as "spiritual but not religious.” His weapon? Blindness. Not of the eyes, but of the soul.

This isn’t intellectual ignorance—it’s willful darkness. It’s the one who mocks truth while applauding lies. Who treats cynicism like wisdom and pride like masculinity. Who trades conviction for convenience, sleeps through spiritual battle, and calls it “being chill.” Who treats porn like stress relief, anger like leadership, and compromise like strategy.

It’s the one who treats sin like self-care and calls rebellion “empowerment.” Who rebrands disobedience as self-expression, drapes pride in therapeutic language, and worships self-discovery over the God who already knows her.

It’s us, when we’d rather binge Netflix than crack open Scripture, or justify bitterness instead of forgiving our enemies. When we ghost God, but act shocked when the darkness closes in.

We’re not immune. We’re infected.

But here’s where it gets terrifying: most people don’t want to see. Their blindness feels like freedom. Their chains are bedazzled. The light of Christ? Offensive. Too bright. Too real. It exposes what we’ve decorated with self-deception and called “authenticity.”

And yet—here’s the grace: God still breaks through. The Gospel is a lightning strike. Christ didn’t die to be your inspirational quote of the day or your personal Ted Talk. No, He died to rip you out of darkness and into glory. His glory, not yours.

If you’re starting to see the light, even faintly, don’t run. Drop the filters. Kill the excuses. The same power that raised Christ from the dead is chasing your tired, distracted, sin-addicted heart.

And if you love someone who’s still blind—don’t just pray they “find God.” Pray that God shatters their blindness. That He breaks them if He must. Better a soul limping toward Heaven than dancing into Hell.

Because the god of this world? He’s not passive. He is real. He is active. And he will settle for nothing less than eternal blindness.

But Christ is stronger. And He is not subtle. He is light—and when He comes for us, it’s not a suggestion. It’s a resurrection.

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© 2025, Lawain McNeil, Mission Surrender, LLC.