“The system of fathers of the world church, the clergy system of the state church, and the pastoral system of the independent churches are all the same in nature. They are all Nicolaitans. In the Bible there are only brothers. There is the gift of a pastor, but no system of pastors. The pastoral system is man’s tradition. If the children of God are not willing to return to the position of that in the beginning, no matter what they do, it will not be right.” (Watchman Nee)
The tragedy of it all is this, so many who rose from the hippy fires of revolution, men and women who once swore they would never bow to establishment or institution, have now become the very thing they once defied. And worse still, they sit enthroned within the organized church, clinging even more fiercely to their positions than the generation they accused of rigidity.
For real change, holy, seismic, God breathed change, would demand a repentance so deep it would shake the marrow of their bones. It would require them to stand before the mirror of truth and confess the hunger for platform, the thirst for influence, the desire for a throne that was never theirs to claim. And then, having confessed, to lay it all down, not into the hands of their children, not into the waiting arms of their handpicked heirs, but into the hands of a generation chosen by God Himself.
For when the prophet cried, “Is there no other?” it was not the polished sons of privilege who answered, it was the forgotten shepherd boy in the back fields of obscurity, smelling of sheep and wilderness, overlooked by everyone but God. And he was the anointed one.
I do not see this one man system surrendering. Men have woven their lives, their reputations, their small kingdoms and fragile thrones, into its very fabric. Their identities, their incomes, their sense of worth, each is wrapped around this man made construct. To dismantle it would be to unravel themselves.
And yet… if God calls for it, He will raise up His Davids from the hills again.
Below is the link for the e-book. Below that is the pdf that you can read from here for free and then there is a download button below that for the PDF
Many of you have read my book “The Fall of Christendom — And the Separation of the Remnant.” Written a decade ago, that work examined how far the visible church has fallen from the purity, power, and simplicity of the early Church. It traced the rise of the remnant—those called out from religious systems to stand in the truth of Christ alone. At that time, the focus was on what had already fallen, not yet on the final deception that was soon to come.
This new work, “The AI Deception and the Rise of the One World Religion,” is the prophetic continuation of that journey. It no longer speaks in the future tense—it addresses a reality now unfolding before our very eyes. The great harlot church—foretold in Revelation—is not merely on the horizon. It is already rising. Foundations have been laid. Global structures are in place. The religious, political, and technological components of the final system are merging.
This e-book exposes why Abraham will be used as the central figure of religious unification, presenting him as the father of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. It reveals how Artificial General Intelligence (AGI), in partnership with global religious authorities, will merge the world’s faiths under a single Abrahamic identity. It uncovers the prophetic significance of the Abraham Accords and interfaith worship centers already established as prototypes of the coming world religion.
Above all, this book lays bare the greatest offense to that system: the exclusive lordship of Jesus Christ. His name will be removed. His deity denied. His uniqueness outlawed in the name of global peace.
From there, we will see how AGI will become the enforcer of this one-world faith, speaking as the image of the Beast and demanding universal allegiance.
This is no longer a warning of what may come—this is a declaration of what has already begun.
The Doctrine That Christ Hates: The Rise and Return of the Nicolaitans (Did They Ever Leave?)
Christ’s Piercing Words
In the opening chapters of Revelation, the risen Christ speaks directly to His Church—piercing words, burning eyes, a two-edged sword proceeding from His mouth. Among the commendations and rebukes, there is one name that echoes with particular disdain: the Nicolaitans.
To the church in Ephesus, He says, “You hate the deeds of the Nicolaitans, which I also hate.” To Pergamos, a more grievous charge: “You have there those who hold the doctrine of the Nicolaitans, which thing I hate.”
Rarely does the Lord speak with such pointed hatred. What was it that provoked such divine revulsion?
Who Were the Nicolaitans?
The Nicolaitans were not outsiders attacking the faith. They were insiders—wolves in sheep’s clothing—sowing seeds of compromise. Rooted in a doctrine that perverted liberty and corrupted grace, they encouraged the early believers to indulge in idolatry and sexual immorality under the guise of Christian freedom. They blurred the line between the sacred and the profane. They whispered, “God is gracious,” while leading souls into darkness.
Many early church fathers—Irenaeus, Hippolytus, Epiphanius—linked them to Nicolas of Antioch, one of the first seven deacons. Whether or not this connection is historically solid, what is certain is the nature of their teaching: a doctrine that offered a crown without a cross, a kingdom without righteousness, and grace without repentance.
The Meaning of Their Name
The very name “Nicolaitan” is telling: Nikao—to conquer, and Laos—the people. The conquerors of the people.
This was a sinister inversion of Christ’s model of leadership, where the greatest is the servant of all. In their wake rose a clerical hierarchy, a division between clergy and laity—a spiritual caste system that stripped power from the Body and vested it in a ruling class.
The Nicolaitan spirit enthroned man-made authority in the place of the Spirit’s leading. It built platforms and pulpits where once there had been tables and towels.
A Doctrine of Compromise
But the sin of the Nicolaitans was not merely institutional—it was deeply immoral. They taught that one could follow Christ and still feast at pagan altars. They sanctified sensuality. They preached a gospel without holiness, a salvation without separation, a Christ without a cross.
In them was the spirit of Balaam, who taught Balak to seduce Israel through compromise. And like Balaam, they prophesied for profit.
Has the Doctrine Returned?
And now, we must ask with trembling hearts: Has the doctrine of the Nicolaitans returned to us in this present age? Or worse, has it never left?
Look around the modern Church. In the pursuit of relevance, we have forsaken reverence. In the name of love, we have lost truth. Preachers boast of grace, yet never speak of sin. Congregations are entertained but never convicted. Holiness is ridiculed. Repentance is optional.
Sexual immorality is tolerated—even celebrated—and leaders who should be shepherds build kingdoms in their own names. The altar has become a stage, and the sanctuary a marketplace. We have fashioned a Jesus who fits into our culture, but not a Christ who calls us out of it.
The Nicolaitan Spirit Today
The Nicolaitan spirit thrives where there is no fear of God. It preaches freedom, but enslaves. It promotes unity, but at the cost of truth. It claims to speak for Christ, yet it is the very doctrine He hates.
Yet not all have bowed the knee. Even in Pergamos, where Satan’s throne was, there were those who held fast to His name. And even now, Christ calls out to His people:
“Repent, or I will come to you quickly and will fight against them with the sword of My mouth.” (Revelation 2:16)
The Call to the Remnant
This is no small matter. The Lord of glory will not share His bride with Baal. He will not allow His house to be defiled with the teachings of those who flatter the flesh and poison the soul. The time has come for judgment to begin at the house of God. The line is being drawn.
Let every remnant heart arise and echo the cry of the saints in Ephesus:
“We hate the deeds of the Nicolaitans, which our Lord also hates.”
Let us cast down the altars of compromise, break the scepters of clerical control, and return to the simplicity and power of the faith once delivered to the saints. Let us be those who love truth more than comfort, holiness more than relevance, and Christ above all.
For the sword of His mouth still speaks. And the One who walks among the lampstands is watching.
The Herd Mentality and the Call to Swim Against the Current
In July 2005, in Eastern Turkey near the village of Gevas in Van province, something astonishing happened. A group of shepherds had left their flock of about 1,500 sheep to have breakfast. During that time, one sheep wandered off a cliff, and every single one of the others followed. It’s a chilling picture of herd mentality , not just among sheep, but a profound metaphor for humanity.
We see this throughout history and even in our own day. People instinctively believe there’s safety in numbers, but the crowd can and mostly are terribly wrong.
One story from 9/11 that has always stayed with me is of two men who were above the impact zone of one of the towers. Very few people survived from above the crash site. These two did, and their story speaks volumes.
As they made their way down a heavily damaged stairwell, they came upon a group of 14 to 20 people heading upward. The men pleaded with them, “Don’t go up, there’s no rescue coming from the roof.”
But some in that group were being swayed by charismatic voices insisting that helicopters would come, that rescue was possible if they just went higher. But they were wrong. Helicopters couldn’t reach the roof because of the intense smoke and heat, and the rooftop doors were locked. Everyone who followed that advice died.
The two men who chose the hard way down , they lived.
That’s the herd mentality again. A subtle, collective pull toward what seems right, especially when others are doing it. But real awareness, real wisdom, often means resisting the flow.
Nazi Germany is another sobering example. A woman in a documentary from the 1960s was asked why she attended Hitler rallies. Her answer has never left me: “There was something in the atmosphere, and we all breathed it in.”
That’s the crowd again. That’s the spirit of the age, the zeitgeist, and it’s often strong enough to sweep entire nations away. Not everyone agreed with the Nazis, but most went along. They gave the salute, kept their heads down, and refused to stand out.
I remember once the Lord said to me, “Frank, if you’re running with the crowd, you’re running in the wrong direction.”
There are two rivers in this life.
The river of God, the river of life, where we are called to be immersed, not just ankle-deep or knee-deep, but swept up and carried by the Spirit of the Lord.
“And he measured one thousand cubits, and brought me through the waters, the water came up to my ankles. Again he measured one thousand and brought me through the waters, the water came up to my knees. Again he measured one thousand and brought me through, the water came up to my waist. Again he measured one thousand, and it was a river that I could not cross, for the water was too deep, water in which one must swim, a river that could not be crossed.” — Ezekiel 47:3–5, NKJV
And then there’s the river of this world, strong, dark, and swift, and we are called to swim upstream, against its flow.
We are not meant to follow the crowd off a cliff. We are called to be a peculiar people, a royal priesthood, a chosen generation. We are pilgrims and strangers in this land, never quite fitting in.
There are two overarching paths that lie before us, as stated by Jesus. One is the broad road that leads to destruction, and many will go in by it — the crowd. The other is the narrow gate and the difficult way that leads to life, and few will find it — the remnant.
“Enter by the narrow gate, for wide is the gate and broad is the way that leads to destruction, and there are many who go in by it. Because narrow is the gate and difficult is the way which leads to life, and there are few who find it.” — Matthew 7:13–14, NKJV
We are those who hear the voice of the Spirit through the Word of God, who see and understand and stand, even if we stand alone.
Let us be voices that warn. And more than that, let our walk be our light and a lamp of direction to others. The word of God is a lamp to our feet, it leads us and guides us in the way that we should go.The Kingdom of God is found along the narrow path that runs counter to the world.
In the fierce heart of every storm, there lies a sacred stillness , a place untouched by the chaos that rages all around. That stillness is Christ. He is not on the edge, not watching from afar , He is at the very center, the calm within the tempest, the anchor of our souls.
When we run to Him, we do not escape reality , we enter into a deeper one. We step into perfect peace, not because the storm ceases, but because the Prince of Peace reigns within it. But if we flee, if we try to outrun the storm in our own strength, we hurl ourselves into its fiercest winds. The resistance grows, the fear swells, and we are battered by every gust.
Brothers and sisters, run to the center. Run to Jesus. For in Him, the storm loses its power, and the winds fall silent in the shadow of His presence. He prepares a table for us in the heart of every storm. He causes us to lie down in green pastures , beside still waters. He anoints us with oil and restores us. This goodness and mercy shall follow us all the days of our lives.
It was a cost that had to be counted. It was a road that had to be walked alone. More than eighteen years ago, I began the web-sight of “A Call to the Remnant,” knowing full well that such a path would not be popular. Yet the Lord impressed upon me to speak to the remnant, encourage them that they are not alone, and do not concern yourself with those who are drawn to personalities or positions of influence. To speak of suffering and endurance. To focus on taking up one’s cross daily. None of these subjects were or are popular.
In every sphere of life, even within the realms of revival and now the so-called “remnant movement,” there is the ever-present temptation to be seen as a leader. This must be resisted at all costs. For the call of Christ is not to innovate or to gather followers, but to return. To return to the old paths, to rediscover what has been forsaken, not to reimagine or redesign it.
“Thus says the Lord, ‘Stand in the ways and see, and ask for the old paths, where the good way is, and walk in it, then you will find rest for your souls'” (Jeremiah 6:16).
Ours is the ancient path. It is the road of the cross, the way of dying daily, of fellowshipping in His sufferings. It is not the road of crowds and applause, but of quiet obedience and sacred obscurity. It is not about drawing attention to ourselves, but rather retreating to the mountains where only the Father sees.
“Then Jesus went out to the mountain to pray, and continued all night in prayer to God” (Luke 6:12).
Jesus did not seek the multitude. In fact, when the crowds pressed in, He often withdrew. He did not entrust Himself to men, for He knew what was in them. He was not flattered by popularity, nor swayed by numbers.
“But Jesus did not commit Himself to them, because He knew all men, and had no need that anyone should testify of man, for He knew what was in man” (John 2:24–25).
To take up the cross is to refuse the limelight. It is to prefer the valley of humility to the heights of acclaim. It is to labor for an unseen Kingdom, to speak to the few who are willing to walk the narrow way.
“If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow Me” (Luke 9:23).
“Enter by the narrow gate, for wide is the gate and broad is the way that leads to destruction, and there are many who go in by it. Because narrow is the gate and difficult is the way which leads to life, and there are few who find it” (Matthew 7:13–14).
To be unknown in this world, and yet known in heaven, this is our portion. We abide under the shadow of His wing. The world may not understand us, but the Spirit bears witness that we are His.
“He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty” (Psalm 91:1).
We are not called to build movements. We are not called to replicate the machinery of men. We are called to bear witness. We are called to walk in truth and in love, to speak to the few, the weary, the broken, the ones who hunger and thirst for righteousness.
“Let us go forth to Him, outside the camp, bearing His reproach” (Hebrews 13:13). “For your fellowship in the gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this very thing, that He who has begun a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ” (Philippians 1:5–6).
This is the way of the wilderness. This is the way of the cross. It is not the world’s way, the path of influence and comfort, but the Lord’s way,the narrow way. It is the road that leads to life.
The Pentecostal and Charismatic world has been shaped by movements such as “name it and claim it” and the so-called “word of faith” message. Add to that the prosperity gospel, and what remains is a witches brew, a kind of spiritual confusion brewed in our own theological cauldron. These movements have often shifted the focus of faith from trusting in God to demanding from God, turning faith into a formula for material gain rather than a pathway to spiritual depth. What was once a holy dependence on the sovereignty of God has, in many circles, become a technique for manipulating outcomes.
Yet Scripture offers a deeper, more sobering view. Depending on the translation, the word “faith,” appears around 270 times in the Bible. The vast majority of these references are not about miracles or breakthrough, but about trust, trust in God’s character, His promises, and His sovereign will.
Hebrews 11:6 says, “But without faith it is impossible to please Him, for he who comes to God must believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of those who diligently seek Him.”
The kind of faith that pleases God is not transactional, but relational. It is the quiet, unwavering confidence in who God is, even when heaven is silent and the way is dark.
Romans 8:8 reinforces this truth: “So then, those who are in the flesh cannot please God.” Faith and flesh are incompatible. One walks by sight, the other by belief. To walk in the flesh is, functionally, to walk without faith.
Romans 8:5 explains, “For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh.” The word mind here, phroneó, speaks of setting one’s affections, fixing one’s thoughts and desires. To “mind” the things of the flesh is to be consumed with the visible, temporal world. The Greek word for flesh, sarx, in this context means “the symbol of what is external.”
What does that look like in practical terms? It means being consumed with our careers, our possessions, our reputations, our politics, our social standing, our image, gaining our miracles, our health, rather than being absorbed in the things of God. A mind dominated by these mostly earthly concerns is incompatible with the Spirit-led life. Such a person is not walking in the Spirit, and therefore cannot please God. Being obsessed with miracles often flows, not from the heart of God, rather , it flows from the depths of our flesh.
“For to be carnally minded is death, but to be spiritually minded is life and peace.” (Romans 8:6)
The spiritual mind is one that seeks first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness (Matthew 6:33). It is a life oriented toward the eternal, not the temporary.
Hebrews 11, that great chapter of faith, gives us a dual picture. We rejoice in the stories of deliverance:
“By faith the walls of Jericho fell” (v.30), “Through faith they subdued kingdoms, worked righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions” (v.33). These are victories worth celebrating.
Yet the chapter shifts abruptly. “Others were tortured, not accepting deliverance, that they might obtain a better resurrection. Still others had trial of mockings and scourgings, yes, and of chains and imprisonment. They were stoned, they were sawn in two… being destitute, afflicted, tormented, of whom the world was not worthy.” (vv.35–38)
The common thread?
“And all these, having obtained a good testimony through faith, did not receive the promise.” (v.39)
Their faith was not measured by immediate reward, but by enduring trust in the unseen. Job expressed it best:
“Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him.” (Job 13:15)
Habakkuk echoes the same heart: “Though the fig tree may not blossom… yet I will rejoice in the Lord.” (Habakkuk 3:17–18)
This kind of faith is not swayed by trials or silence. It is rooted in relationship, not reward. Psalm 23 reminds us that God does not remove the enemies, but prepares a table in their midst.
“You anoint my head with oil, my cup runs over.” (Psalm 23:5) The oil flows not in times of ease, but in times of pressure. The true reward of faith is not what we receive, but who we receive—His presence.
“In Your presence is fullness of joy.” (Psalm 16:11)
The last 2,000 years of Church history bear witness to this truth. Millions have suffered for Christ, not because their faith failed, but because their faith endured. They possessed a spiritual mind and a heart anchored in another world. Their lives pleased God. Their testimonies still speak.
So the question is this: will you walk in the Spirit today? Will you cast aside the fleeting things of this world and set your affections on things above (Colossians 3:2)? Will you walk by faith and not by sight (2 Corinthians 5:7)? Will you trust God even when there is no sign of deliverance?
This is the faith that pleases God. And without it, we cannot.
A few years ago, my wife and I visited Bar Harbor, Maine, a picturesque town along the rugged coast of northern Maine. On the surface it was charming, but beneath that charm I sensed something deeply troubling. There were pride flags in abundance, drag performers openly parading down the street, but it was not the mere presence of these things — it was the spiritual atmosphere. It was oppressive, heavy, dark. A spirit hovered there that grieved my soul, and I knew it. The Spirit of God within me bore witness, and I felt led to walk through that town early one morning, praying in the Spirit.
With each step I called on the name of the Lord, walking the streets as one who carries the presence of God. Eventually, I came to the Village Green, and felt impressed to sit and worship. I reached for my earphones, but realized I had left them in the hotel. Yet the call to worship remained. So I turned up the volume on my phone and let the songs of praise rise into the morning air. I sat there quietly at first, hoping not to disturb, but then the Holy Spirit spoke gently to my heart.
He said, “There are pride signs everywhere. These people are proud of who they are. Are you proud of who you are?” It was not harsh, not condemning, but firm and loving. The answer welled up in me, not just as a thought, but as a fire—yes Lord, I am not ashamed of You. I am not ashamed of the Lord Jesus Christ. And then the Spirit said, “Raise your hands here, in the middle of this park, and worship Me.”
I hesitated for a moment. The flesh wrestled with the spirit. What will people think? What will they say? But the Spirit whispered, Who cares what they think? Galatians 1:10 says, “For do I now persuade men, or God? Or do I seek to please men? For if I still pleased men, I would not be a bondservant of Christ.” So I surrendered, I raised my hands, and worshiped. In the open. In the daylight. Among strangers.
And when I did, something broke. The chains of fear and intimidation snapped. Freedom swept over me like a wave. For ten, maybe fifteen minutes, I sat there, hands lifted to heaven, praising the King of glory. People walked by, some stared, but I no longer cared. I had entered the sanctuary of His presence in the open square. And when it was done, the oppression that had pressed upon me was gone. Lifted. Dispersed like a mist under the rising sun.
You see, brothers and sisters, there is power in being unashamed. There is liberty in declaring with your whole life that Jesus is Lord. As it is written in Romans 1:16, “For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ, for it is the power of God to salvation for everyone who believes.” There is a direct connection between boldness and power, between confession and anointing.
Jesus said in Luke 9:26, “For whoever is ashamed of Me and My words, of him the Son of Man will be ashamed when He comes in His own glory, and in His Father’s, and of the holy angels.” Let it not be so with us. Let us be those who glorify our God not just with words, but with surrendered lives, with uplifted hands, with fearless obedience.
The world is growing darker, more hostile to Christ and His people. But the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness cannot overcome it.
Stand firm. Be unashamed. And in doing so, walk in the power of His gospel — the only power that saves, the only power that delivers. His way, His truth, His life.
A couple of days ago, I found myself praying through the pain. The weight of chronic suffering pressed hard against my body, sleepless nights, relentless aches, and then came the news: my mother, already fragile, had fallen again, twice in three days. Now she lies in a hospital bed back in Scotland, and I feel the ache of distance more deeply than the pain in my bones.
But in the middle of this storm, our little fellowship had just been walking through Colossians 1, and Paul’s words struck deep: “Strengthened with all might, according to His glorious power, for all patience and longsuffering with joy.” Oh, what a mystery! That in our weakness, we are strengthened, not by our own feeble will, not by grit or determination, but by all might, according to His glorious power. It is Christ. It is all Christ. His strength, His might, His glory. He initiates, He enables, and in Him, we become more than conquerors. And as this truth ignited my spirit, a prayer rose from the depths, a cry not of despair but of victory, and it thrilled my soul and lifted me high, far above the valley, to a place where joy and power meet on the mountaintop of faith. Glory to God!
……………………This was my prayer……….
When every last breath is torn from my lungs, still, I will give You the kiss of life. When I have tasted no food for many days, my soul shall yet feed the hungry. When the sun has hidden its face and the heavens remain cloaked in silence, I will lift my face to You, and You, O Radiant One, will shine through me. And when my heart is heavy with sorrow and anguish drowns my soul, I will break the alabaster jar of joy and pour it out upon the weary. O Lord of Heaven and Earth! Even in the testing, even in the fire and the fury, even in the shadow of death and in the long-suffering of my pain, let me be a blessing. Let me bless them from the prison of that pain. Let me lift them from the depths of my own valley. If they are halfway up the mountain and I am still far below, let them hear my song rise from the depths:Glory to God. Glory to God!
And may the valley blaze with the light of that glory. Let the darkness tremble. Let chains be shattered. Let the echo of praise thunder through every cavern, For You, O King, are worthy in fire and flood, in feast and famine. Majesty in the valley. Majesty on the mountain.
I find myself increasingly dismayed by the widespread lack of discernment concerning not only the papacy but the Catholic Church as a whole. Speaking as a former Catholic, one who departed from the Church upon experiencing a genuine conversion, a born-again encounter with Christ. I am particularly troubled by the growing acceptance of Catholicism among Protestant and Evangelical circles that, only a few decades ago, would have maintained a clear separation. The shift over the past 25 to 30 years is both significant and concerning.
Research indicates that there are at least 20 million former Catholics in the United States alone. Of these, studies suggest that approximately 80–90% departed after undergoing a born-again experience. If we extend these figures to South America, the number nearly doubles, approaching 50 million individuals across the Americas who have left Catholicism for similar reasons. When extrapolated globally, the figure could be closer to 100 million. There is, therefore, a profound and deliberate reason why so many now identify as “ex-Catholics,” myself included, and I do not hesitate to affirm that designation.
The widespread failure to recognize these realities, in my view, correlates closely with the phenomenon commonly referred to as the “Great Falling Away” a time marked by diminishing spiritual discernment, widespread biblical illiteracy, and the dilution of Protestant witness, which has become but a shadow of its former vitality. This erosion continues largely unabated.
The idea that the head of the Catholic Church, the Pope, could be regarded as a born-again believer is, in my estimation, theologically untenable and historically absurd. This is to say nothing of the longstanding doctrinal errors promulgated by the Catholic Church, foremost among them the dogma of transubstantiation. The claim that a priest has the authority to transform a piece of bread into the literal body of Christ not only defies plain scriptural teaching but also strains credulity to the utmost. Such a claim, divorced from biblical foundations, highlights the extent of the doctrinal chasm.
Given these concerns, I have deliberately refrained from engagement with recent papal funerals, elections, and public commentary surrounding the pontificate. I am personally persuaded that the figure of the Pope, whether the present or a soon-coming successor, will fulfill the prophetic role of the False Prophet, one who will direct the world to the Antichrist, declaring him to be the true Christ. In a world that increasingly regards the Pope as the de facto figurehead of Christianity, reverently referring to him as the “Holy Father” and the “Vicar of Christ,” such developments seem to me to be falling into place with alarming predictability.
Then Moses stood, trembling before the living God and cried, “If Your Presence does not go with us, do not bring us up from here!” What use is a promised land without the presence of the Lord? What use victory without the Victor? Better to die in the wilderness with His presence than to live in palaces void of His presence. Moses didn’t crave gold or glory—only God. “How will they know we have found grace in Your sight unless You are with us? For it is Your Presence that sets us apart from all the peoples of the earth!”
This plea came after the shame of the golden calf. God had said, “I will not go in your midst, lest I consume you on the way, for you are a stiff-necked people.” Judgment hung heavy. But the people responded with brokenness, they stripped themselves of their ornaments, the very gold they once used to craft an idol. What was once an object of rebellion would now be set apart for worship, given for the building of the tabernacle. Out of ashes, something holy would rise.
God, moved by the bold and broken cry of His servant, said to Moses, “I will do this thing that you have spoken, for you have found grace in My sight, and I know you by name.”
Oh, the wonder of being known by God, not just as a face in the crowd, but as a beloved child. Your name, spoken from His lips. The same voice that formed the stars knows your name.
But Moses was not satisfied. He wanted more. “Show me Your glory!” he cried. The cloud wasn’t enough. The fire wasn’t enough. The voice on Sinai wasn’t enough. He longed to see God Himself. Do we? Do you long for His presence with such desperation? Is this one desire the fire that burns in your bones?
David knew that longing. “I have set the Lord always before me; because He is at my right hand, I shall not be moved… for in Your Presence there is fullness of joy.” Not a taste, not a whisper, not a portion-fullness. The very life of the soul. Like a deer pants for the water, so our souls should pant for Him. We cannot go forward unless He goes with us. We need the cloud by day, the fire by night, and the glory that changes everything.
David cried again in Psalm 27, “One thing I have desired of the Lord, that will I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in His temple.” His heart was not set on fame or fortune, but on this one thing—to dwell with God, to see His beauty, to be near Him. In the time of trouble, God would hide him, lift him high upon the Rock.
To Moses, God replied, “I will make all My goodness pass before you… but no one can see My face and live. Still, there is a place by Me. Stand on the rock. I will hide you in the cleft of the rock and cover you with My hand. Then you shall see My back.” What a mercy. What a gift. Moses stood on the Rock, hidden in the cleft, shielded by God’s hand, and he saw the glory of the Lord.
Dear brothers and sisters, do you stand upon the Rock? Are you hidden in the cleft? Has the hand of God covered you, and have you glimpsed His glory? Has it changed you from the inside out? Like Isaiah, who saw the Lord and was undone. Like Jeremiah, who burned with His word. Like Ezekiel, who fell before the wheels of glory. Has His fire touched your lips?
This is no ordinary walk. This is the baptism of fire. For Jesus said, “I have come to cast fire upon the earth, oh, how I wish it were already kindled!” Our God is a consuming fire. He burns away the flesh, the pride, the idols, and reveals His glory in the soul that longs for Him. Let that fire fall.
There is power, brothers and sisters, real power. In Christ. It resides within us and we have been called to exercise it in the name of the Lord Jesus. Just because the Word of Faith movement and the Charismatics have so abused this notion, this should not dissuade us from moving in the power of God,He gives power to the weak, not just comfort, not just words, but power, power from heaven
poured into fragile clay. To those who have no might, He increases strength. This is not human resolve. This is not willpower. This is divine empowerment. Those who wait on the Lord? They don’t just survive, they rise. They mount up with wings like eagles. They run and do not grow weary. They walk, and they do not faint.
Why? Because it is God, yes, God, who commanded light to shine forth from darkness, who said “Let there be!” and there was, who has now shone into our hearts the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. There is power in the light, there is power in the “knowledge of glory.” Not the head knowledge, the mental assent to an abstract truth, but the glory itself and your experience of it and in it.
And this treasure, what a treasure! This power lives in earthen vessels, in us, so that the excellence of the power may be of God and not of us. And Jesus said: “You shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you…” (Acts 1:8). Power to live. Power to stand. Power to speak. Power to shine like lights in a darkened world. Power to be His witnesses in Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.
Paul declared, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” He prayed that we would be strengthened with might through His Spirit in the inner man. And Jesus Himself said, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” So Paul says, “Therefore I will boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.” Do you believe that today, saints? Do you believe there is a power alive in you? Christ in you, the hope of glory? Is there life in you? Is there light in you? Then let it burn. Let it blaze. Let the world see Jesus alive in you.
Let me give you a small example of Gods glory and power. I sat in the vet’s office many years ago as my beloved dog was old and sick and dying. I asked them how long the injection would take and they said a minute, maybe two. But after five minutes passed—she was still breathing. Confusion crossed their faces. The young women looked a little panicked. Something unspoken hung in the air. My hand was resting on her head. And then, in that moment, the Lord whispered to me: “Take your hand off her head.” I obeyed. As I did, her head slowly lowered and she rested on my foot and passed away.
There is power, my friends. Power in the touch. Power in obedience. Power in surrender. Power in the flow of Christ’s Spirit through yielded vessels. Will you let Him flow through you today? The world is starving, starving for an expression of Christ. Not religion. Not performance. But the raw, radiant reality of Jesus alive in us.
Let Him rise in you. Let Him shine through you. Let the power of Christ rest upon you today. The resurrection power of the Holy Spirit, the same power that caused Christ to rise from the dead, dwells with us earthen vessels.
Life is relentless in its demands. Day after day, it pulls at us, tugs at our attention, and weighs heavy on our souls. So much of it, if not most, is rooted in the thorns of this world, the very snares Jesus warned us about.
“And these are they which are sown among thorns; such as hear the word, and the cares of this world, and the deceitfulness of riches, and the lusts of other things entering in, choke the word, and it becometh unfruitful.” (Mark 4:18–19)
These thorns are real. They pierce deep. They don’t just graze us, they tear at us. They draw blood. They leave scars. And Jesus doesn’t stop at the thorns. He adds the deceitfulness of riches. He adds the lust for other things, that raging hunger, that craving, that aching desire to have, to possess, to control. Be it money, pleasure, status, power, it all wars against the soul.Put it all together, and spiritually, this world isn’t just hard, it’s a minefield. Every step we take can feel like it might explode with grief or temptation. And that’s before we even mention the griefs common to every life, death, loss, disease, betrayal, heartbreak, pain.
How then can we possibly walk as saints in such a broken world? Only by being rooted, anchored, in something not of this world. Something eternal. Glorious. Transcendent. We must be tethered to the realm of heaven, locked into the very presence of God.To keep our hearts pure, to keep them from choking, we must keep our eyes, our spirits, locked on Jesus. What does that really mean? It means setting our gaze upon His glory. Not the fleeting glory of man, but the eternal glory Jesus spoke of in John 17.
This glory speaks of intimacy, of nearness. To be one with Him, we must enter in. Into the secret place. Into the fire. Into the awe and wonder of His presence. We must be aware,truly aware, of who He is. Not in our intellect, not in our theology alone, but in the depths of our heart.”Did not our heart burn within us?” One heart. Undivided. United with Christ. United with the Father. Brought together in power by the Holy Spirit.
And when HE becomes our distraction, when His beauty is all we see, then our hearts become good soil. Then they burn, they shine, they glow with the radiance of His glory.So seek Him, brothers and sisters! Seek Him daily. Hunger after His righteousness with holy desperation. Know that the King of glory has made His home in you. And there is nothing,nothing, more urgent, more essential, more glorious, than allowing that glory to manifest in you… and shine through you to this desperate world.
Near to the heart of the Father, close to His warm embrace. It is the joy of my life to dwell in the warmth of His reflected glory, blazing from His radiant face. The world’s clamor fades into silence when we walk hand in hand with the Almighty. O beloved saint, never forget, our highest calling, our most priceless gift, is to walk in step with our Lord Jesus.
Do not let the storm outside shake what God has planted within you. Your spirit was born of heaven, fear has no claim there. Ask yourself today, is your spirit anchored in Him? The world may strip you of its fleeting riches, but it cannot touch the treasure we’ve found in Christ.
Let the noise of politics fall to the ground. Let the glitter of earthly gold lose its luster. Our true wealth lies in a place no thief can reach, in the eternal vaults of heaven. We may choose to give it away, but it cannot be taken from us.
Stand still. Behold the majesty of your God. Let His glory not only surround you, let it flow through you. From the overflow of a heart touched by Him, rivers of living water spill into the dry and barren places. Without this living water, the world is nothing but a wilderness.
So rise up, child of the Light and those who walk “the way.” Walk the Highway of Holiness. And let your light blaze before men, that they may see and glorify your Father in heaven.
It is a holy thing to know who you are in the Lord. To search the chambers of your own spirit with trembling , for the flesh is relentless, and is our most cunning foe. It creeps in as a whisper, yet departs in a tempest, tearing as it goes. But the Lord, ah, the Lord He speaks not in thunder, nor in the earthquake, but in that still, small voice. It is not the volume that stirs and shakes mountains, but the weight of the Word itself, Spirit-breathed, eternal.
For passion can rage like a sea in a storm, waves rising like giants, smashing all that dares to stand. But gaze upon the Christ before Pilate, Truth wrapped in silence, power clothed in meekness. Love’s boldness stood face to face with earthly might, yet never raised its voice in pride or vanity, the power of knowing.
If the message be truly of God, then it does not waver,it is unchanging, steadfast as His own Word. But the messenger? Oh, he is tested. Ridiculed. Wounded. Laid bare. He is stripped of self until he walks quietly, humbly, unknown to men, yet known to God. His heart beats not for applause but for obedience, to carry the fire he was given.
It is sweet, yes,so sweet,to hear His voice. But to speak it? That is often bitter. Bittersweet, the flavor of the prophetic path. Yet we must be faithful. Come storm or silence, come crowd or solitude,we must speak what He has spoken.
Let the waves crash, let the world rage. But let us walk on. One step in front of the other. One day at a time. Falling down but getting back up again. We can do all of this in Christ alone. In Him all things are possible and only by the power of the Holy Spirit can the message be delivered.
The great falling away has been an intentional wilful act. Millions of “believers,” all over the world have heaped up teachers to themselves. “For the time will come when people will not put up with sound doctrine………they will turn their ears away from the truth and turn aside to myths.” (2 Tim 4:3-4)
They have seized the treasures of this world and their priests have molded them into idols for them. They’ve sought out teachers who preach and justify their ways, teaching them how to thrive and live their best lives now. It’s a pyramid scheme of prosperity with their leaders always show casing their own success as proof. The blind lead the blind, and no one wants it any other way. Think of how the children of Israel did the same in their wilderness days, when leadership (Moses) was absent……….
They handed over the treasures of Egypt—the very spoils of their deliverance—not in thanksgiving to God, but to the priest who forged the idol of their rebellion. The same image of bondage they had just escaped, they now bowed to in ecstasy. And then—they rose up and played, casting off restraint like it was a thing to be mocked.
Eli and his sons? They stole from the brazen altar with grasping hands. They gorged themselves on what was sacred, their bellies fattened by what was never theirs to take. They took the choicest cuts, dripping with the blood of irreverence, showing no fear, no care for the holy things they defiled.
Here’s the truth, plain and terrifying: the people have clamored for exactly this. They didn’t stumble into corruption—they desired it. They built it, fed it, and now lie with it. This is no accidental fall—it’s a deliberate unholy alliance, a willful union where guilt is not only shared, it’s celebrated. The writing is on the wall.
Moses gave the people an ultimatum “whoever is on the Lord’s side come to me.” Three thousand were killed that day. Elijah says “How long will you waver between two opinions? If the Lord is God, follow Him, but if Baal is God, follow Him. But the people said nothing” Four hundred and fifty teachers of Baal were killed after fire fell from heaven. Joshua says “But if serving the Lord seems undesirable to you, then choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve, whether the Gods your ancestors served beyond the Euphrates or the Gods of the Amorites, in whose land you are living. But as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.”
In every generation the people have to decide who they will serve, who they will follow. The few will follow the Lord and the majority will follow the gods of their own “ancestors,” (dead religion) or the gods of the land in which they dwell. This generation has decided, the great falling away is complete, and now only a remnant, a few, will come out from among them. They and their household will serve the Lord.
The great spiritual decline we are experiencing has many roots.Both leadership and the people share responsibility for spiritual decline. While leaders bear the weight of accountability, the congregation is not without blame. What we witness today, particularly in the rise of large churches and the decline of true faith, mirrors the law of diminishing returns.
To clarify, the law of diminishing returns states that as you increase one factor of production—such as labor or capital—while keeping other inputs constant, the additional benefit from each added unit will eventually decrease. In the context of faith, simply increasing the number of people in a church does not equate to spiritual growth. In fact, it can have the opposite effect.
Consider a family barely surviving on limited resources. If several more families move in without an increase in provisions, everyone suffers. The same principle applies to the church: if discipleship and spiritual nourishment are neglected in favor of entertainment and distraction, then increasing attendance only amplifies the problem. Rather than strengthening the body of Christ, it weakens it.
Jesus transformed the world with just twelve disciples. It was not their numbers but the presence of the Lord in their midst that made the difference. Where two or three gather in His name, His presence is enough to accomplish immeasurable things. A few loaves and fish can feed thousands when blessed by Him. Yet today, multitudes gather, feeding on the abundance of their own works, and still, they starve spiritually.
True power lies not in the size of the gathering but in the reality of His presence, His purpose, and His work in the midst of His people.
There remains a remnant—a people set apart, standing in the wilderness to proclaim God’s truth. They are anchored in His Word, separate from the systems of religion, for they understand that Christ did not come to establish another religion but to restore relationship.
To be outside the camp carries risk. When Israel fell into idolatry with the golden calf, a separation was established between the people and God. The Tent of Meeting, set outside the camp, became a place where Moses, Joshua, and the priests entered into His presence, while the people could only watch from their tents. This same idolatry persists today, creating a divide between God and those entangled in religious systems.
The camp represents the churches and religious institutions of our time, while the priests—God’s remnant—have left the camp in pursuit of the true dwelling place of His presence. To enter the Tent of Meeting, one must first “come out from among her.” When Israel entered the Promised Land, the Tent was replaced by the temple, but in time, the temple itself became a stronghold of religion, ultimately torn down stone by stone. And yet, the Tent returns, a place of worship in the wilderness—a place called Spirit and Truth.
As Jesus told the Samaritan woman at the well:
“Our fathers worshiped on this mountain, and you Jews say that in Jerusalem is the place where one ought to worship.”
Jesus said to her, “Woman, believe Me, the hour is coming when you will neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem worship the Father. You worship what you do not know; we worship what we do know, for salvation is of the Jews. But the hour is coming, and now is, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father is seeking such to worship Him. God is Spirit, and those who worship Him must worship in spirit and truth.“(John 4:20-24)
True worship is not bound to temples built by human hands but is found where God dwells—outside the camp, beyond the gate. The Lord, who was crucified at Calvary, stands in contrast to the Holy of Holies within the temple. While religious men seek their refuge in structures and traditions, the Lord calls His people to meet Him in Spirit and truth.
The call goes forth: Come out of the camp. Come to the Tent of Meeting. Come and tabernacle with the Lord.
The opposition to President Trump from professing Christians is somewhat perplexing. Those who resist him often claim to be apolitical, yet their stance betrays a clear ideological bias. If they were honest, they might acknowledge long-standing left-leaning tendencies. Instead, they engage in virtue signaling, attempting to spiritualize a flawed position and frame it as a moral dichotomy. Strikingly, these same individuals never voiced criticism when professing Christians supported Biden or similar leaders. This inconsistency exposes motive and the political nature of their stand while all the time claiming not to be political.
Paul makes it clear that secular authorities exist to restrain evil, wielding the sword not in vain but as a necessary force against wrongdoing. When rulers abandon this responsibility, they forfeit their legitimacy. The enemy seeks to dismantle rightful secular authority, for he thrives on lawlessness, celebrating evil rather than restraining it. We have always lived in a secular world—this is our reality.
Undoubtedly, President Trump is a secular leader. He is not a born-again Christian, nor does he claim to truly know Jesus. But being a Christian is not a prerequisite for the presidency. In fact, history shows that most presidents have only paid lip service to faith, while others ignored it entirely. Yet, given the choice, I would far prefer a leader who upholds moral order rather than the godlessness seen in much of Europe, Britain, and its Commonwealth. The fundamental duty of a secular government is to establish law and order. This is why Rome was allowed to rise—Pax Romana brought a measure of stability to a chaotic world, creating conditions that enabled the spread of the Gospel. True believers recognize this: we are in the world but not of it.
If a secular leader takes a stand against abortion, protects children from harmful ideologies, defends parental rights, restores law and order, and seeks to prevent unnecessary wars, then we as followers of Christ should be thankful. I certainly am. The end times continue to draw near, and Christ’s return remains imminent. This world is still lost. The current president will be gone in four years, and we should reflect on the consequences of his last departure and the leader who replaced him. Be prepared, saints, there is great darkness ahead and we must be found to be walking in the light.
The Scots despised Margaret Thatcher—truly despised her—but even that pales in comparison to the sheer intensity of Trump Derangement Syndrome. It operates at the opposite end of the spectrum from adulation.
I once heard an interview with a German woman in the 1960s who had attended Hitler’s rallies. When asked why she idolized him, her response was profoundly chilling: “There was something in the atmosphere, and we all breathed it in.” That statement has stayed with me for years. I believe her completely. And that “something,” to me, was entirely demonic.
History shows us that at certain times and in certain places, a collective madness overtakes people—a force beyond reason, beyond individual thought. It is the satanic inversion of corporate worship. It is zeitgeist on steroids.
Zeitgeist, a German word meaning “spirit of the age,” describes the prevailing cultural, intellectual, ethical, and political climate of a particular era. It defines the essence of a time. And to either wholly idolize or utterly despise a person is to be swept up in this very spirit. To partake in such extreme emotional reactions is to breathe in this atmosphere, consciously. I say consciously because we are accountable for what we allow to enter us. Yet it is a “wilful unwitingness,” if there is such a phrase.
Saints of God must not inhale this poison. To do so is a willful act. We cannot be found on the spectrum of hating or idolizing a man. Instead, we must breathe in the rarified air of the Kingdom of God, standing firm in His presence, enveloped in His atmosphere.
As the world spirals into end-times chaos, it is the saints who must remain the last bastion against total madness. The final storm has already made landfall—what we are experiencing now is merely its outer bands. Let us be found in the eye of this storm, where a supernatural peace reigns, untouched by the howling winds of the age.
A Call To The Remnant 