Blue Bloods: Reformation or Revolution (part 14 of 14)

And so, dear friend, we find ourselves at a crossroads. Here the sons and daughters of the King must part company with the slaves. The time has come for either reformation or revolution, either of which is far nobler than dying on a chain gang building Babel’s walls and towers under the tutelage and whips of religious megalomaniacs whose own kingdoms have commandeered the center stage. We must either take back that center stage and offer it to Jesus or exit these current cities and join the real Jesus outside the gates of these doomed citadels. His cry is arising and many will hear that clarion call to true freedom.

Tragically, many are content with the status quo. Their endless song is, “Don’t rock the boat baby.” They are satisfied having their egos massaged and their ears tickled, while being told every move to make and the backstage spot where they must stand. These slaves will follow the crowd because that’s what slaves have been taught to do. They will complain about enduring the monotony of a past that can produce no future, but they will do nothing but complain, as they trudge mindlessly along. Most will never break rank. That is why you must now decide who you will follow. Your moment at the crossroads is approaching as the endless column ahead of you bears to the right or left. What will you do?

Freedom means throwing off the shackles of a system and embracing a Savior who really has paid your debts in full and now offers a walk of relationship in a garden setting similar to the one our ancient ancestors trashed. It means you can intimately hear His voice and be sure He hears yours. It means His endless embrace is an eternal expression of the extravagant pleasure He finds in you. It means you don’t just hear about it every Sunday morning for an hour or so, but you experience it fully every moment of every day for the rest of your eternal life.

Freedom means He longs for your presence as much as you do His. It is the emotions of your spirit set free to host His Spirit in the very depths of your personal expression of His image and likeness. This is what it means to be alive—to breathe the same breath God breathed into Adam. Your spiritual oxygen is not elemental in composition, but experiential in Christ. Life is no longer just a biological expression, but now can be lived out as a spiritual explosion.

Freedom is the authority—a delegated permission—to be everything Jesus bought and paid for. It is also the power—the ability to exercise the authority—to bring order out of chaos, health into sickness, restoration to brokenness, and light into darkness. It is the ability and permission to do the things that Jesus did and the greater things He promised. It means acting as His ambassador—standing in His place speaking with His voice and accomplishing His work as though He was standing there. Freedom is allowing Him to live His life through you. This is the real secret of being a blue blood. You no longer live, but Christ lives in you. The Son of God has put you on like a glove and now brings to life the potent animation of His omnipotence through you on whatever stands in rebellious opposition to His will.

This kind of freedom is worth the price of another reformation or a new revolution. Someone must say, “Enough!” Someone must take up the banner of the Resurrection—not the resuscitation of a diseased and dying religious system—but the rising from the dead of a people filled and formed by the same Spirit who raised Jesus from the dead. A people who will live, eat, breathe, dream, and want nothing but Jesus.

If this seems a bit too radical or revolutionary for your spiritual refinement, then keep step with the rhythmic march of your fellow slaves, and at the intersection head right or left to the brick pits of your own particular Pharaoh. It won’t be long until the brick molds are passed out and you can resume turning mud into bricks for the construction of that tower you’ve been assured will take you to heaven.

As for me, I am not a brick-maker, nor the son of a brick-maker. The flesh of my back will no longer bear the lash nor will my feet stand paralyzed in the stinking mud of that sacred sewer. I will not bend to the religious demands of a counterfeit, nor bow my knee in submission to a demagogue, a demigod, or a man who thinks he is a god. I will no longer remain silent as the very images of God all around me are destroyed by slavery. I will shout the truth until my voice is heard and heeded here, hushed by hell, or hailed in heaven. I am a son of the Most High God, purchased by the blood of the Son of God, and filled with the very Spirit of God. I am baptized for battle, empowered by His victory, and ready to sound the alarm and answer the call of my King. I am a child of royalty—a son of the Sovereign—a prince of the realm. I am a blue blood.