Screwtape, Jesus, and the Battle for Your Soul - iBelieve Truth: A Devotional for Women - June 18, 2025
"...fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." Hebrews 12:2 (NIV)
Temptation rarely kicks down the door. More often, it whispers through the keyhole — sly, familiar, tailored to the shape of our longings. Whether it comes by storm or by shadow, its aim is the same: to pull us just far enough off course that we exchange comfort for peace, indulgence for grace.
Consider two accounts. One unfolds in the wilderness of Judea (Matthew 4:1-11), where the Son of God, worn thin from forty days of fasting and prayer, meets the ancient voice of cunning and deceit. The other takes shape in the pages of C. S. Lewis’s novel The Screwtape Letters, where a senior demon in hell advises a junior tempter on the art of leading an unsuspecting human toward damnation. One is a literary masterpiece. The other is the very Word of God. Yet both explore the same ground: temptation flourishes under a dark cloud of deception but withers under the bright light of truth.
In Lewis’s fictional correspondence, Screwtape insists that damnation is achieved best through inches, not leaps. He writes, “The safest road to Hell is the gradual one — the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts.” Meanwhile, in the desert, Satan tempts Jesus not with overt evil but by making a lesser good the greater good— prioritizing the needs of the body over the soul, self over God, a crown without the cross.
In Matthew’s gospel, Jesus stands at the far edge of physical exhaustion — emptied, exposed, alone after forty days in the wilderness. The tempter seeks to exploit that vulnerability. Turn stones to bread means use God’s power to satisfy yourself; throw yourself down means manipulate God to serve your purposes; bow down and be rewarded means exchange eternal glory for a corrupt, earthly kingdom. Each test strikes at something elemental: physical need, recognition, and power. But Jesus responds to each from a deep well of Scripture and prayer.
Screwtape’s counsel reflects a similar strategy in a more contemporary, subtle tone:
“Like all young tempters, you are anxious to report spectacular wickedness. But do remember, Wormwood, the only thing that matters is the extent to which you separate the man from the Enemy. It does not matter how small the sin, so long as the cumulative effect is to edge the man away from the Light. Murder is no better than cards, if cards can do the trick.”
Temptation rarely shouts; it whispers. It doesn't often confront us with glaring evil but seduces us with subtle compromises — a shortcut here, a small concession there. Like a fog, it envelops quietly, obscuring our vision and dulling our resolve. It's not the dramatic fall that leads us astray, but the gradual drift — the slow erosion of purpose, the softening of conviction, the habitual turning away from the light.
By contrast, Jesus shows us that prayer and long absorption in Scripture offer the strength to resist.
In The Screwtape Letters, the Patient — after many fits and starts — resists all of Screwtape’s attempts to ruin him, much to Screwtape’s great frustration. This process of resisting temptation is spelled out by Lewis in Mere Christianity:
“Every time you make a choice you are turning the central part of you, the part of you that chooses, into something a little different from what it was before. And taking your life as a whole, with all your innumerable choices, all your life long you are slowly turning this central thing either into a heavenly creature or into a hellish creature: either into a creature that is in harmony with God, and with other creatures, and with itself, or else into one that is in a state of war and hatred with God, and with its fellow creatures, and with itself.”
Our choices matter. We make hundreds of them every day. In each, we are either bending toward the Light or drifting away from it.
Let's pray:
Father, help us remember that beneath and around all of this is grace — your unwavering presence, the enduring strength of your Word, and the quiet power of communion with you. In a world full of Screwtapes and Wormwoods, we are not left to navigate alone, God. Remind us that we can stand firm and walk forward — not perfectly, but faithfully — with your truth guiding us, your presence sustaining us, and our eyes fixed on you, “the author and finisher of our faith” (Hebrews 12:2). Amen.
Photo Credit: ©SWN
Max McLean is an award-winning actor and founder and artistic director of New York City-based Fellowship for Performing Arts, which produces theatre and film from a Christian worldview meant to engage diverse audiences. He adapted for the stage C.S. Lewis’ “The Screwtape Letters,” performing the role of Screwtape in London and New York, now serving as director for the nationally touring production.
Related Resource: Instead of Doing More This Summer, Maybe You Need to Do Less
If you've been feeling tired, overwhelmed, depleted, or just quietly wondering where God is in the middle of a very full life — this episode is for you. And honestly? It might be for me too, because I'm recording this in one of those seasons myself.
Today we're doing something a little different. Instead of going deep in a passage, we're talking about what to do when deep feels like too much — when you need less, not more. Specifically, I'm walking you through one of my favorite practices for weary seasons: handwriting scripture.
Not typing it. Not scrolling past it. Actually writing it out, slowly, in your own hand — because something happens in your brain when you do that. The words land differently. They go deeper. And over time, they become part of that personal library of God's voice that the Holy Spirit can pull from when you need it most. That's what Psalm 119:11 means when it says I have hidden your word in my heart — it's scripture moving into your long-term memory, where it lives and stays even when you haven't opened your Bible in weeks.
I'm sharing the five verses I wrote out for myself today — and why each one hit me fresh even though I've known some of them for years. This episode is part of our How to Study the Bible Podcast, a show that brings life back to reading the Bible and helps you understand even the hardest parts of Scripture. If this episode helps you know and love God more, be sure to follow the How to Study the Bible Podcast on Apple or Spotify so you never miss an episode!
