I’m almost sheepish to admit it, but in the Belken household, one movie franchise reigned supreme above all others: Star Wars. We watched it over and over again.
If you know Star Wars, you know the premise: a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, warring factions clashed — the Empire versus the Republic, the Jedi versus the Sith. At its core, it was always a story of good versus evil, light against darkness.
That tension isn’t just science fiction. We see war, strife, and division constantly — on the world stage, in our nation, even within our families and homes. Which makes today’s Gospel all the more striking.
Jesus, the Prince of Peace, says something jarring: “I have come not to establish peace, but division!”
Doesn’t that sound contradictory? The angels sang “peace on earth” at Bethlehem — is Jesus now bulldozing over their song? Did He just wake up on the wrong side of the bed that morning?
Not at all. If we listen carefully, it all comes together.
Jesus begins by saying: “I have come to set the earth on fire, and how I wish it were already blazing!” That’s the fire of faith. Then He speaks of a baptism He must endure — His baptism in blood upon the Cross — which will bring salvation. That is His anguish.
And then comes the hard part: “Do you think I have come to establish peace on the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division.” Even households will be split apart — parents against children, in-laws against each other. And then — silence. A cliffhanger. We’re left wondering, “What in the world was that?!”
But this isn’t Jesus losing His temper. It’s a deliberate teaching.
Why? Because Jesus knows His disciples will be accused of being “peaceful” in the worst sense of the word — passive, soft, unwilling to fight. But authentic Christianity is not passivity. It’s war. Christ presses us into battle — a war so serious that even family ties may break in the struggle for the truth.
So what kind of war is it? Not between nations or political factions. No — the battle is against the world, the flesh, and the devil.
The world tells us its values every day: success means money. Happiness means stuff. Security means power. Identity means status. And it never stops shouting: “You don’t have enough yet — get more!”
But here’s the trap: the world promises satisfaction and delivers emptiness. Greed never says “enough.” Popularity never fills the heart. Status never secures peace. The more we chase, the more restless we become.
That’s why Jesus tells us not to store up treasures on earth, but in heaven. Our war with the world is not about hating creation — it’s about refusing to let created things become our gods. To live for money, power, or possessions is to fight for the losing side. To live for Christ is to be rich in what truly matters.
Second, the flesh. This is the battleground closest to home. Our own desires, our own passions, wage war against us.
And let’s be honest: lust and immorality are perhaps the clearest weak spot in our culture today. Everywhere you look — online, in media, in conversations — people are told: “You can do whatever you want with your body, and no one has the right to say otherwise.” The message is clear: there are no boundaries, no consequences, just “freedom.”
But what kind of freedom is that? When impurity grips someone, it doesn’t set them free — it enslaves. Whether it’s pornography, hook-up culture, casual relationships, or simply treating others as objects instead of persons, these things shackle the soul. They leave behind guilt, shame, and emptiness. They promise satisfaction, but they always demand more, and they never truly deliver.
And the pain is not only private. Immorality wounds marriages, breaks families, and twists our very ability to love. Our culture may laugh at the Church for insisting on chastity, even waiting for marriage perhaps, but the wreckage of broken hearts and broken homes around us is proof enough: God’s commandments are not burdens — they are safeguards for love.
The battle with the flesh doesn’t stop with lust. Anger, gluttony, laziness, addictions of all kinds — each of these passions fights to rule us. If we give in, we lose the freedom of being sons and daughters of God. But if we resist — with prayer, with discipline, with the grace of Confession and the Eucharist — then even in weakness we discover Christ’s strength.
This is why we must never give up the fight. Even if we’ve stumbled a thousand times, Christ can win the battle in us if we refuse to lay down our arms. The flesh doesn’t have to win. Grace is stronger.
And finally, the enemy who loves to stay hidden: the devil.
Many today dismiss him as a myth, a symbol, or a medieval superstition. But Scripture and experience tell a different story. The devil is real. His demons are real. And they are relentless.
Their strategy is subtle. They don’t usually shout; they whisper. They plant doubts: “Does the Church really know better than you?” They offer excuses: “You worked hard this week — skip Mass just this once.” They stoke anger: “Go ahead, lash out, you deserve it.”
The devil doesn’t need us to worship him. He only needs us to grow indifferent to God. If he can make us lukewarm, distracted, and comfortable in sin, then he has already won half the battle.
That’s why we must resist under the banner of the Cross. Only Christ has the power to defeat Satan. And He gives that power to His Church — through the sacraments, through prayer, through the Word. To pretend the devil isn’t real is to lower our guard in the middle of the battlefield. My brothers and sisters, Jesus makes it clear: we are at war. If we don’t fight, we will be conquered. If we don’t resist, we will be enslaved.
But here is the paradox: by fighting, we gain peace. By dividing ourselves from the world, the flesh, and the devil, we are united with Christ, and we find the peace that endures into eternity. This may not be Star Wars. But the real battle between good and evil is far greater — and the victory infinitely more glorious.
So let us fight well. Let us bear division when it comes, because the Kingdom is worth it. And when the war is done, may we share in the peace of the victorious, in the everlasting Kingdom of God.
