“What pagans sacrifice they offer to demons and not to God. I do not want you to be participants with demons.” (1 Cor. 10:20 [ESV])
It’s one of the most uncomfortable questions I’ve ever wrestled with: Could millions of devout Catholics—who sincerely pray to saints and ask for their intercession—actually be engaging in something spiritually dark?
This is not a throwaway accusation or a careless attack on a religious tradition. I take no joy in stirring controversy for controversy’s sake.
But the more I’ve studied Scripture, early church history, and the spiritual worldview presented in both the Old and New Testaments, the more convinced I’ve become: saint veneration may not be spiritually neutral. In fact, I believe there’s good biblical and theological reason to believe that praying to saints could open the door to communion with rebellious spiritual beings—what Scripture calls demons, or in some cases, lesser elohim in rebellion against God.
Let me walk you through how I arrived here. Because if I’m right, this isn’t just a theological disagreement; it’s a call to spiritual discernment, pastoral clarity, and bold gospel proclamation.
The Unseen Realm Isn’t Empty: Heiser’s Framework
Let’s start with a foundational insight from the late Dr. Michael Heiser, a biblical scholar whose work has reshaped how many evangelicals understand the spiritual world of the Bible.
In his book The Unseen Realm, Heiser argues that Scripture teaches the existence of a divine council: a realm of spiritual beings (elohim) who were created by God, operate in the heavenly realm, and have been given varying degrees of authority. Some of these beings remain loyal to Yahweh; others have rebelled and sought worship for themselves. He explains these degrees of authority as such:
The unseen world has a hierarchy, something reflected in such terms as archangel versus angel. That hierarchy is sometimes difficult for us to discern in the Old Testament, since we aren’t accustomed to viewing the unseen world like a dynastic household, as an Israelite would have processed certain terms used to describe the hierarchy. In the ancient Semitic world, sons of God (Hebrew: beney elohim) is a phrase used to identify divine beings with higher-level responsibilities or jurisdictions. The term angel (Hebrew: malʾak) describes an important but still lesser task: delivering messages.1
Furthermore, he uses the text in Psalm 82 to demonstrate this idea: “God (elohim) presides in the great assembly; he renders judgment among the gods (elohim)” (Ps. 82:1).
These are not imaginary deities or idols with no real power. They are spiritual beings, some of whom have gone rogue and now oppose God’s rule by seeking allegiance, worship, and influence among the nations. Heiser reads Deuteronomy 32:8–17 as a key passage in this framework. After the Tower of Babel, God disinherited the nations and assigned spiritual rulers over them. These rulers became corrupt, and God later judged them.2
Now here’s the connection:
What if certain religious practices—no matter how well-intentioned—actually give spiritual allegiance to beings that are not God?
What if the saints people are praying to… aren’t saints at all?
Paul’s Warning: Demons Masquerade
Paul’s words to the Corinthian church make this risk crystal clear: “What do I imply then? That food offered to idols is anything, or that an idol is anything? No, I imply that what pagans sacrifice they offer to demons and not to God” (1 Cor. 10:19–20).
The logic is sobering: behind idolatry lurk demons. Not just empty statues. Not just cultural traditions. Real spiritual entities who desire worship—and who will take it however they can get it.
And here’s the kicker: intention doesn’t protect you. Just because someone means well doesn’t mean they aren’t being deceived. Paul also warns in 2 Corinthians 11:14 that “Satan disguises himself as an angel of light.” If Satan can mimic righteousness, what makes us think a demon couldn’t impersonate a saint?
But Catholics Don’t Worship Saints… Right?
In official Roman Catholic teaching, there’s a clear theological distinction made between different types of reverence:
Latria: Worship, given only to God
Dulia: Veneration, given to saints
Hyperdulia: A special category of veneration, reserved for Mary
But here’s the problem: Scripture doesn’t use these categories.
In the Bible, to pray to someone is to invoke them spiritually. To trust in someone’s protection or intercession is to treat them as a mediator. And there’s only one true mediator: “There is one God, and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus” (1 Tim. 2:5).
From a biblical perspective, functional worship is what matters—not technical definitions. You can call it “veneration” all day long, but if you’re praying to someone, trusting in their power, and engaging them spiritually, you’re doing what the Bible describes as worship.
A History of Drift: From Memory to Mediation
Saint veneration didn’t appear out of nowhere.
In the early centuries of the church, believers rightly honored the memory of martyrs. Christians would gather at their tombs, remember their example, and encourage one another in the faith. But over time, things shifted.
By the fourth century, local “saint cults” had developed—especially in regions like Egypt, North Africa, and Gaul. People began making pilgrimages to saints’ graves, seeking healing and protection. Relics were treated as conduits of power. Prayers to saints became normalized.
By the medieval period, these practices were so embedded in Catholic life that the Reformers saw them as one of the most dangerous distortions of biblical Christianity. In response to their critiques, the Council of Trent doubled down, affirming “that the saints, who reign together with Christ, offer up their own prayers to God for men.”3
John Calvin wasn’t impressed. He believed that Satan has so deluded the wretched world that they have invoked the dead with as much confidence as they do God:
Scripture, in the worship of God, sets the chief matter before us: how we should call upon him in prayer. Consequently, as he requires of us this duty of piety… to direct prayer to others involves manifest sacrilege. Consequently, it is also said in the psalm: “If we have stretched out our hands to a strange god, shall not God search this out?” [Ps. 44:20–21; 43:21–22, Vg.]. (emphasis mine)4
For Calvin and the Reformers, this wasn’t just a bad habit—it was a blasphemous counterfeit of gospel truth.
The Biblical Pattern: God Alone Is to Be Invoked
Throughout Scripture, God is jealous for His glory. He does not tolerate spiritual confusion, even if it’s sincere.
When John tries to worship an angel in Revelation, the angel immediately stops him: “You must not do that! I am a fellow servant with you… Worship God.” (Revelation 22:9)
If angels won’t receive veneration, why would the saints?
The Old Testament is filled with warnings against inquiring of the dead or seeking knowledge and power through unauthorized spiritual channels. Isaiah 8:19 says, “Should not a people inquire of their God? Why consult the dead on behalf of the living?”
The principle is clear: spiritual contact with anyone but God is dangerous.
So What’s Really Happening?
Here’s the claim I’m making—carefully, but without apology: When people pray to saints, they may not be contacting saints at all. They may be engaging in spiritual communication with rebellious beings who present themselves as righteous but are anything but.
These beings, what the Bible calls demons, seek to receive glory, trust, and access. And when they succeed, they don’t just deceive; they oppress.
This may help explain the rise in Catholic exorcisms in recent decades. What if the door was opened not through the occult, but through false religious devotion?
It’s not just the tarot reader or the Satanist who invites demonic presence. Sometimes it’s the sincere, devout person praying in the wrong direction.
What This Means for the Church Today
This is not just a theological curiosity. It’s a pastoral issue. And it demands our attention.
1. Worship must be regulated by Scripture.
God has told us how to worship Him. We don’t get to innovate. We don’t get to add new mediators or rituals and call it tradition.
2. Spiritual warfare includes false religion.
In Ephesians 6, Paul describes a battle not against flesh and blood, but against spiritual powers. One of the enemy’s greatest tactics is to twist religious sincerity into spiritual deception.
3. Evangelism must include clarity about mediation.
Many Catholics are sincere in their devotion, but sincerity doesn’t save. Only Christ saves. We must lovingly but clearly call all people to trust in Christ alone—not Mary, not Jude, not a patron saint.
What Now?
If you’re reading this as someone who has prayed to saints: stop.
You don’t need anyone else. You have Christ. He is your only Mediator, Intercessor, and Advocate.
If you’re a Protestant who has never thought seriously about spiritual warfare: wake up.
This isn’t just about theology. It’s about what’s real in the unseen realm.
And if you’re a church leader, discipler, or teacher: equip your people. Teach them the whole counsel of God. Show them the glory of Christ’s exclusive sufficiency.
Final Word
God doesn’t share His glory. He doesn’t share His worship. And He doesn’t need help mediating your prayers.
Saint veneration isn’t a harmless tradition. It’s a potential spiritual trap, one that may not just confuse the truth, but invite the enemy right through the front door.
Let’s worship God on His terms. Let’s proclaim Christ as our sole Mediator. And let’s be wise about the spiritual cost of misdirected devotion.
“There is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved.” (Acts 4:12)
Michael S. Heiser, The Unseen Realm: Recovering the Supernatural Worldview of the Bible, First Edition (Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2015), 23-24.
Ibid., 112-115.
Philip Schaff, The Creeds of Christendom, with a History and Critical Notes: The Greek and Latin Creeds, with Translations, vol. 2 (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1890), 200.
John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, ed. John T. McNeill, trans. Ford Lewis Battles, vol. 1 & 2, The Library of Christian Classics (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011), 886–887.