Whoever reads the Bible without pre-installed filters cannot escape the reality that Scripture does not present satan as a metaphor, not as a psychological mechanism, not as a projection of the human shadow-side, but as a truly existing spiritual being who speaks, acts, deceives, accuses, and will ultimately be judged. Denying this reality is not an innocent exegetical alternative but a direct assault on the foundation of Christian revelation. Once one begins to symbolize at this point, the entire structure of creation, fall, redemption, and judgment begins to crumble.
The Bible does not open the history of humanity with an inner moral dilemma in man, but with a concrete confrontation between man and a personal adversary. The first conversation in which God’s creature is approached by another being is not a dialogue with a thought or emotion, but with a speaking serpent. Genesis 3 does not describe this as a psychological process, but as an act of active deception. “And he said to the woman…” (Gen. 3:1). The serpent speaks, formulates propositions, twists God’s words, raises questions, and gives deliberately false information: “You shall not surely die” (Gen. 3:4). There is no internal indication that this conversation takes place within Eve’s inner world; everything in the text points to an encounter with another actor. This is later made explicit: this serpent is “that ancient serpent, who is the devil and satan” (Rev. 12:9; 20:2).
However, once one denies the existence of the devil, it becomes impossible to retain this conversation as a historical event. One is then forced to reinterpret the serpent as a metaphor for inner doubt, a literary image for the human will to autonomy, or a psychological depiction of moral development. But once that happens, the nature of the Fall changes from a concrete transgression against a concrete God into vague symbolism. It is no longer a deed in which man truly breaks God’s command under the influence of evil coming from outside; it becomes a kind of narrative description of an inner process. Man is then not tempted, but he “develops.” The act loses its objective character. Nothing remains of the moment in which man truly fell, truly sinned, truly broke God’s command. The Fall becomes at most a moral-psychological theme, not a historical reality.
But Scripture leaves no room for such an interpretation. Paul treats the Fall as a historical event with historical consequences. In Romans 5 he says that “through one man sin entered the world, and death through sin.” Death is not a metaphor. Death is real, tangible, universal. And Paul bases the universality of that death on the universality of one historical act of disobedience. His parallel is clear: “As by one man’s disobedience many were made sinners, so by the obedience of One shall many be made righteous” (Rom. 5:19). If Adam is merely symbolic, then Christ is as well. If Adam’s Fall is only a story about inner growth or existential dialectic, then Christ’s obedience is likewise only a story. And then the cross becomes a ritual or metaphor, not a deed in which God truly resolves a real problem.
This is precisely why denying the devil strikes at the heart of the gospel. If the tempter does not exist, if no real satanic attack occurred, then the Fall becomes nothing more than an illustration of human shortcomings. But illustrations do not cause eternal death. A psychological process does not make the coming of death intelligible. And above all, it makes the coming of Christ inexplicable. Why would Christ die to solve a symbolic problem? Why would the Son of God hang on a cross to correct an allegory? It is absurd to suppose that the most central act in the history of God’s revelation would be aimed at repairing a metaphor. Only if the Fall is real is the cross necessary. Only if the deception was real is redemption real. Only if the devil is a person is Christ’s victory over him (Heb. 2:14; 1 John 3:8) an act of cosmic significance.
This is exactly why the popular idea of “the little devil on your shoulder,” which supposedly represents only your darker impulses, is utterly untenable. Scripture draws a sharp distinction between sin within man and satan outside man. Jesus says that “out of the heart” evil thoughts arise (Matt. 15:19), but He never says that satan is a human trait. On the contrary: He speaks directly to him, hears him speak, sees him fall, describes him as personally active, and assigns him a future judgment.
And precisely here Scripture intervenes broadly and deeply to make unmistakably clear that satan is a personal being, not an inner inclination. In Job 1–2 “satan also came among them” who presented themselves before the LORD; he enters into conversation, disputes Job’s motives, formulates proposals, and God’s answers set boundaries to his actions. In Zechariah 3 satan stands at the right hand of the high priest to accuse him, and the LORD rebukes him directly: “The LORD rebuke you, satan!” (Zech. 3:2). Accusation, dispute, desire, negotiation, and limitation are personal acts, not metaphors.
In 1 Chronicles 21:1 “satan incited Israel,” an action never attributed to inner inclination but always to an external actor. In Matthew 4 and Luke 4 satan enters into dialogue with Jesus; he speaks three successive temptations, takes Jesus to specific locations, quotes Scripture, and makes concrete offers. These are the actions of a person, not of a thought. In Luke 22:31 Jesus says that satan has “desired to sift you like wheat”; desire is an act of will.
In John 8:44 Jesus calls him “a murderer from the beginning” and “the father of lies.” Something that gives birth to lies is an actor, not a metaphor. In Luke 10:18 Jesus says that He saw satan “fall like lightning from heaven.” An idea does not fall.
According to Mark 4:15 he snatches away the sown Word from hearts; according to Acts 5:3 he fills the heart of Ananias; according to 1 Thessalonians 2:18 he hinders Paul in his travels; according to 1 Peter 5:8 he goes about “as a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour”; according to 2 Timothy 2:26 he lays snares; according to 2 Corinthians 11:14 he disguises himself “as an angel of light”; and according to 2 Corinthians 11:15 he has servants who disguise themselves as servants of righteousness. No trait has servants. No metaphor disguises itself. No inclination lays snares. All this requires intentional agency.
In Ephesians 6 his organization and personality become even clearer. Paul says that the believer must put on “the full armor of God” to “stand against the wiles of the devil.” Deceit and strategy are not traits but acts of a cunning adversary. Paul also says that we do not wrestle “against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the world-rulers of darkness, against spiritual wickedness in the heavenly places.” Principalities and powers are persons, not thoughts. The fiery darts of the evil one are not metaphors for internal ideas; they come from an enemy who attacks deliberately.
Satan is further called by Jesus three times “the ruler of this world” (John 12:31; 14:30; 16:11). In Luke 4:6 he claims that all the kingdoms of the world have been delivered to him and that he gives them to whom he wills — and Jesus does not contradict him. An inclination possesses no kingdoms.
In Revelation he is presented as the dragon who wages war against heaven (Rev. 12), the deceiver of the whole world (12:9), the persecutor of the church (12:17), the one who gives authority to the beast (13:2), the prisoner who is bound by an angel (20:2), and the being who is thrown into the lake of fire (20:10). A metaphor cannot be bound. An idea is not tormented day and night. Only a person can be judged in this manner.
When Peter says that “your adversary, the devil, goes about as a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour” (1 Pet. 5:8), that is not a description of an internal impulse but of an external enemy. Paul warns against “the snares of the devil” (2 Tim. 2:26), something no trait or inclination can lay. Jesus speaks of “the enemy who sowed the tares” (Matt. 13:39), and He identifies that enemy as “the devil” — not an inner inclination but an actor who acts. In John 8:44 Christ says that satan “was a murderer from the beginning” and “the father of lies.” A metaphor has no morality, no origin, no fatherhood, no intentions. Only a person can lie, deceive, kill, and betray. And every time Jesus casts out demons, He is not dealing with psychological symbols, but with truly existing spiritual beings who speak, plead, fear, and respond (Mark 1:23–27; 5:1–13). If demons are persons, why would their prince not be? The New Testament leaves no room for a symbolic satan; the satanic realm is an organized, acting reality.
Everything culminates in Matthew 25:41, where Jesus says that the eternal fire “is prepared for the devil and his angels.” A destination for angels makes sense only if those angels truly exist. A judgment for satan makes sense only if he is a person. And Christ binds the fate of the wicked to the same judgment. Whoever therefore denies that the devil is a person must necessarily symbolize Christ’s own words about that judgment. In doing so, the gospel loses its seriousness, its necessity, and its historical depth.
The biblical gospel, however, is not an allegory. It is built on historical, objective truth: a real creation, a real fall, a real enemy, a real judgment, and a real redemption accomplished by the true Son of God. The battle is real because the enemy is real. The fall is real because the tempter is real. And the salvation is real because the problem from which we are saved is real. Once satan is denied, reality disappears from the Bible, only symbolism remains, and the gospel loses its power.
Scripture therefore leaves no room for a symbolic satan. Whoever explains him away also explains away the fall. And whoever explains away the fall also explains away the necessity of Christ’s coming. Whoever removes the enemy removes the cross. What remains is no longer Christianity but a moral philosophy dressed in religious language. But whoever believes the testimony of Scripture sees how necessary Christ’s victory is and how real His adversary was.
And thus the promise of Genesis 3:15 is fulfilled: that the Seed of the woman would crush the serpent’s head — not symbolically, but truly. Christ has overcome satan; He has overcome the world (John 16:33); and through His resurrection He has stripped death of its sting: “O death, where is your sting? O grave, where is your victory?” (1 Cor. 15:55). By His appearing He “has abolished death and brought life and immortality to light” (2 Tim. 1:10). Therefore His victory stands firm: the devil is defeated, the world overcome, death robbed of its power — and new life has been made possible for all who believe in Him.