Morgan Atlas

The war has already begun, though many fail to see it. Not a war of nations or ideologies, but a spiritual war, quiet, relentless, and raging beneath the surface of everyday life. In this age of contradiction, where truth is contested and virtue mocked, the battleground is not marked by borders but by hearts.

Catholic theology reminds us that we are born into this conflict, not as spectators but as soldiers of grace. Evil does not wait for permission, it infiltrates through distraction, division, and despair. And yet, we are not without armour. We are called to clarity, to courage, and to faithfulness, for every act of truth, every moment of prayer, every stand for righteousness becomes a counterattack against the darkness.

Scripture does speak plainly: “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). This is not metaphor. It is mission-critical reality.

Look around us. Division is deepening. Truth is blurred. Identity is under siege. From global unrest to personal despair, the symptoms of spiritual warfare are everywhere. “Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith.,” 1 Peter 5:8–9 The goal? To blind us to purpose and pull us from God’s design.

But this is not about resisting evil. It is about recognising the battleground, in our homes: where peace is fractured, in our communities: where unity is tested and in our hearts: where faith is either forged or forgotten.

We are not called to be passive observers. We are called to stand, to build, to steward. Truth is our belt, our righteousness, our breastplate. Faith is our shield, and prayer is our power source.

This war is not won by force; it is won by faithfulness.

This spiritual war demands clarity. Not just moral clarity, but mission clarity.

We are not neutral bystanders in this world. Catholic theology reminds us: we are born into a battlefield. The Catechism teaches that “the whole of man’s history has been the story of dour combat with the powers of evil” (CCC 409). This is not poetic metaphor; it is spiritual reality.

Before humanity was formed, a rebellion erupted in heaven. Lucifer, once a radiant archangel, rejected God’s authority and was cast down with a third of the angels who followed him. Since then, Satan has been “the ruler of this world” (John 12:31), working tirelessly to deceive, divide, and destroy.

But Christ’s victory on the Cross was decisive. Through his death and resurrection, he shattered the dominion of sin and death. Yet the battle continues, not for victory, but for souls.

In this war, every faithful act is a counterattack.

Evil is not a distant concept. It is present, persistent, and painfully real. From war and corruption to moral confusion and spiritual apathy, the world groans under the weight of something that ought not to be. Catholic theology does not shy away from this reality; it confronts it head-on.

According to the Church, evil is not a created thing but a privation, a lack of good where good ought to be. It manifests in three forms:

• Physical evil: Suffering, illness, natural disasters, death
• Moral evil: Wilful sin, murder, deceit, injustice, and rebellion against God
• Metaphysical evil: The limitations inherent in created beings and systems.

Evil is not equal to good. It is parasitic, dependent on good to exist, yet always seeking to distort, diminish, and destroy.

This is the question that haunts many hearts: If God is good, why is there evil? The Church teaches that God permits evil only to bring about a greater good. The clearest example is the Cross, where the worst moral evil (the crucifixion of Christ) became the source of salvation for all humanity.

God also gave us free will, which makes love possible, but also sin. Evil is the tragic consequence of freedom misused.

Today’s evils are both ancient and modern:

• Moral relativism that denies objective truth
• Technological manipulation that distorts identity and dignity
• Cultural decay that celebrates sin and silences virtue
• Spiritual apathy that numbs the soul to grace

These are not just societal trends; they are symptoms of a deeper spiritual war. As Pope St. John Paul II warned, “We are now facing the final confrontation between the Church and the anti-Church.”

We are not called to despair. We are called to discern, resist, and rebuild.

• Discern: Recognise evil for what it is, not just in headlines, but in habits, systems, and silence.
• Resist: Through prayer, sacrament, and moral courage. The Rosary, Eucharist, and Confession are spiritual weapons.
• Rebuild: Steward assets, ministries, and communities that reflect truth, beauty, and goodness.

Evil may roar, but it does not reign. Christ has conquered death. The Church endures. And every act of faithful stewardship becomes a beacon in the storm.

Let us not be naïve about evil. But let us never be afraid. For “the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” (John 1:5)

Evil may be persistent, but it is not permanent. Though the shadows stretch long across our world, they are cast only because light still shines. As Catholics, we do not face this spiritual war alone, we are fortified by grace, guided by truth, and surrounded by the communion of saints. The Cross has already claimed victory; our task is to live as witnesses to that triumph.

Let us resist despair, reject deception, and remain rooted in Christ. For in every moment of prayer, every act of virtue, and every stand for truth, we echo the eternal promise: the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

“Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” John 8:32