Spiritual Battle Against Corruption: Call to Authentic Faith
Sisters and brothers, we stand at a crossroads where the authentic heart of our faith collides with the reality of corruption. When Jesus cleared the temple, he wasn’t just flipping tables—he was exposing a system where God’s house had become a marketplace for personal gain. Today, that same corruption exists not just in structures but in hearts. In our hearts. The question isn’t whether corruption exists in our churches; it’s whether we have the courage to confront it. Revelation 3:16 warns us that lukewarm faith makes God sick—and nothing is more lukewarm than recognizing corruption and choosing comfort over confrontation.
The word “corrupt” in Hebrew—shachath—means to destroy, to ruin, to pervert what was intended for good. Paul warns in 1 Corinthians 3:17, “If anyone destroys God’s temple, God will destroy that person; for God’s temple is sacred, and you together are that temple.” Sisters and brothers, this isn’t just about buildings or institutions—we are the living temple. When we allow corruption to fester within us—pride, jealousy, self-righteousness—we’re destroying what God has made sacred. David understood this when he prayed in Psalm 139:23-24, “Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”
Corruption in the church often starts subtly. It’s not always the scandalous fall of a leader, but the slow drift toward using faith as a vehicle for status, for comfort, for power. It’s when we weaponize Scripture against each other rather than allowing it to transform us. It’s when we care more about appearing righteous than being righteous. Jesus reserved his harshest words for the Pharisees who “clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence” (Matthew 23:25). We must ask ourselves: Are we cleaning just the outside? Are we more concerned with the aesthetic of our faith than its authenticity? The prophet Amos condemned those who maintained religious rituals while neglecting justice, declaring, “I hate, I despise your religious festivals; your assemblies are a stench to me” (Amos 5:21).
Sisters, spiritual warfare begins with self-examination. Before we can fight corruption in the church, we must confront it within ourselves. Ephesians 6 tells us to “put on the full armor of God,” but armor isn’t for show—it’s for battle. And the first battle is always internal. When was the last time you asked God to search your heart and reveal what’s corrupt there? When was the last time you allowed the Spirit to challenge your assumptions, your biases, your comfortable faith? Real spiritual warfare isn’t just about fighting external demons; it’s about surrendering to the Spirit’s refining fire. James 4:8 reminds us, “Come near to God and he will come near to you. Wash your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded.” This purification isn’t a one-time event; it’s a daily discipline of surrendering to God’s transforming work.
The sisterhood God calls us to isn’t a social club or a support group, though it includes these elements. Biblical sisterhood is a covenant community of women who call each other higher, who speak truth in love even when it hurts. Proverbs 27:17 says, “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.” Sisters, are we sharpening each other, or are we dulling each other with false affirmation and shallow spirituality? Corruption thrives in darkness and isolation, but it withers in communities of radical honesty and grace. The women who followed Jesus demonstrated this kind of sisterhood—they supported his ministry financially (Luke 8:1-3), remained at the cross when most disciples fled (Mark 15:40-41), and were first to witness and proclaim the resurrection (John 20:1-18). They didn’t just consume Jesus’ teaching; they embodied it through sacrificial community.
Brothers, God is calling you to a different kind of masculine presence in the church—not domination, but servant leadership; not silence on injustice, but prophetic voice; not passive consumption, but active discipleship. Too often, corruption has been allowed to grow because good men said nothing. Ezekiel 22:30 says, “I looked for someone among them who would build up the wall and stand before me in the gap on behalf of the land so I would not have to destroy it, but I found no one.” Will you be that man who stands in the gap? Will you be like Phinehas, who in Numbers 25 took bold action against corruption in the camp? Will you be like Daniel, who refused to compromise his integrity even when everyone around him did? Spiritual warfare for brothers means rejecting passive faith and embracing the radical, counter-cultural way of Jesus who washed feet instead of demanding service, who used his strength to protect the vulnerable, not exploit them.
Our battle isn’t against flesh and blood. When we see corruption in the church—leaders abusing power, resources being misused, the gospel being distorted for personal gain—our enemy isn’t the person. It’s the principalities and powers working through human weakness. This doesn’t excuse harmful behavior, but it reshapes how we fight. We fight on our knees in prayer. We fight with truth spoken in love. We fight by living with such authentic faith that corruption has nowhere to hide in our presence. In 2 Chronicles 20, Jehoshaphat faced an overwhelming enemy and declared, “We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you.” The battle belongs to the Lord—our job is to position ourselves in worship and witness the deliverance that only God can bring.
Here’s what most people miss about spiritual warfare: it’s not primarily about power; it’s about surrender. The weapons of our warfare aren’t carnal—they’re not harassment, public shaming, or righteous indignation. 2 Corinthians 10:4 tells us our weapons have “divine power to demolish strongholds.” Those strongholds of corruption are demolished when we live with such radical dependence on God that we need nothing from the systems of this world—not approval, not security, not status. When Jesus was tempted in the wilderness in Matthew 4, Satan offered him shortcuts to power and influence. Jesus’ resistance wasn’t just about avoiding sin; it was about embracing God’s longer, harder, more transformative path to redemption. In the same way, our resistance to corruption isn’t just about avoiding wrong; it’s about embracing a kingdom that operates by entirely different rules.
Brothers and sisters together form a powerful alliance against corruption when they honor the image of God in each other. In a world that constantly pits men against women, the church should be a revolutionary community where both genders serve side by side, each bringing their unique strengths. In Judges 4, Deborah and Barak partnered to deliver Israel—neither could have succeeded alone. Brothers, do you see your sisters as co-laborers in the gospel, equally gifted and called? Sisters, do you honor the unique ways your brothers reflect God’s character? Paul tells us in Galatians 3:28 that in Christ “there is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female.” This doesn’t erase our differences but transcends them in a unity that makes corruption tremble.
Jesus shows us what fighting corruption looks like. He didn’t just call it out; he offered something better. He didn’t just clear the temple; he became the temple. He didn’t just condemn religious hypocrisy; he embodied authentic relationship with God. Our fight against corruption isn’t just about exposing what’s wrong—it’s about embodying what’s right. It’s about living with such transparent faith that others are drawn not to us but to the God we serve. In John 13:35, Jesus said, “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” This love isn’t sentimental; it’s sacrificial. It’s the kind of love that confronts corruption not out of self-righteousness but out of deep desire for God’s people to experience the freedom and power of authentic faith.
The early church in Acts gives us a blueprint for corruption-resistant community. They were devoted to the apostles’ teaching, to fellowship, to breaking bread, and to prayer. They shared their possessions so no one had need. They lived with glad and sincere hearts. Sisters and brothers, this isn’t utopian fantasy—it’s the natural expression of a community centered on Christ rather than comfort or convention. When we orient our lives around these practices, corruption finds no foothold. Acts 4:32-33 tells us, “All the believers were one in heart and mind. No one claimed that any of their possessions was their own, but they shared everything they had. With great power the apostles continued to testify to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus. And God’s grace was so powerfully at work in them all.” Notice the connection between unity, generosity, powerful witness, and abundant grace—this is the antidote to corruption.
Brothers, let me speak directly to you for a moment. Our culture has twisted masculinity into something God never intended—either passive absence or domineering control. Biblical manhood is neither. Jesus, the perfect man, was both tender and fierce, both strong and humble. Corruption often finds fertile ground in the hearts of men who are insecure in their identity, who use power to cover weakness rather than strength to serve others. Micah 6:8 gives us a clear picture of what God requires: “To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” Justice confronts corruption, mercy restores what corruption has damaged, and humility prevents us from becoming what we’re fighting against. Brothers, when you see another man in your community abusing power or compromising integrity, do you have the courage to speak to him privately as Matthew 18 instructs? Do you have the wisdom to mentor younger men toward authentic faith as Paul did with Timothy? Your silence in the face of corruption is not peace-keeping; it’s peace-breaking.
Sisters, your discernment is a powerful weapon in spiritual warfare. Throughout Scripture, we see women who recognized corruption and acted decisively—Abigail who intercepted David on his way to bloodshed (1 Samuel 25), Esther who exposed Haman’s genocidal plot (Esther 7), Priscilla who, alongside her husband, corrected Apollos’ incomplete teaching (Acts 18:26). You have an anointing to see beyond facades, to recognize when something is off in the spirit. Do not doubt this gifting or silence this voice. Speak with wisdom, act with courage, and know that in doing so, you stand in a long line of women who refused to let corruption go unchallenged. 1 Peter 3:4 speaks of “the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit,” but “quiet” here doesn’t mean silent—it means tranquil, unshaken, confident in God’s power working through you.
The hardest truth about corruption is that we’re all susceptible. The moment you think, “That would never be me,” is the moment you’re most vulnerable. Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 10:12, “So, if you think you are standing firm, be careful that you don’t fall!” This is why spiritual warfare requires constant vigilance—not paranoia, but the humble acknowledgment that we need God’s grace every moment to keep our hearts pure and our motives clean. King David, a man after God’s own heart, fell into grievous sin when he grew comfortable in his position and forgot his dependence on God. His story reminds us that no one—no matter how anointed, no matter how used by God—is immune to corruption. But his story also shows us that genuine repentance paves the way for restoration, as Psalm 51 so powerfully demonstrates.
Brothers and sisters, corruption in the church often persists because we’ve forgotten the fear of the Lord. Not terror, but reverent awe—the recognition that we serve a holy God who cannot be mocked. Galatians 6:7-8 warns us, “Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows. Whoever sows to please their flesh, from the flesh will reap destruction; whoever sows to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life.” When we lose this perspective, we start thinking we can compartmentalize our faith, that what we do in secret doesn’t matter, that small compromises won’t lead to larger ones. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom (Proverbs 9:10), and wisdom is our guide in navigating the complex landscape of human systems where corruption can so easily take root.
Here’s my challenge to you, sisters and brothers: Start a revolution of authenticity. Refuse to participate in religious performance. Create spaces where masks are unnecessary because grace is abundant. Stand firm against systems that use God’s name for personal gain. Speak truth to power, beginning with the power you yourself hold. This is spiritual warfare—not mystical, but practical; not individualistic, but communal; not occasional, but a daily choice to live as citizens of a different kingdom. Isaiah 58 condemns fasting that doesn’t lead to justice and freedom for the oppressed. Our spiritual disciplines are meaningless if they don’t transform how we live in community. Let your worship be more than songs; let it be the offering of your life as a living sacrifice (Romans 12:1).
The future of the church doesn’t belong to those with the biggest platforms or the most polished presentations. It belongs to those with the purest hearts—those who, like David, can say, “Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me” (Psalm 51:10). Sisters and brothers, this is our battle cry in the fight against corruption: not condemnation, but transformation; not just tearing down, but building up; not just exposing darkness, but becoming light. The church doesn’t need more critics; it needs more craftspeople who can help rebuild what corruption has destroyed. And that rebuilding starts with us, with our commitment to be the change we wish to see. As Nehemiah rallied the people to rebuild Jerusalem’s walls, with each family taking responsibility for the section nearest their home, so we must each take responsibility for purifying the part of the body of Christ where God has placed us. This is our sacred calling, our holy resistance, our spiritual warfare against the corruption that would rob us of our inheritance in Christ.
Pastor Mitchell Royel