The Unyielding Throne: Where True Sovereignty Resides in a World of Competing Crowns
The Roar in the Rosslyn Shadows
Let me tell you about the day the government came for our pulpits.It was a Tuesday, I believe. The Pretoria sun was hammering the tin roofs of Akasia into shimmering sheets of heat, and the dust from the construction near the old Rosslyn industrial complex hung in the air. I was drafting a sermon in my study, looking out at the thorn trees that give our home its name—Akasia, from the Acacia. My phone buzzed incessantly. Pastors, elders, voices tight with a tension I hadn’t heard since the days of old struggles. A new edict had been proposed: a state-appointed committee, a “Section 22 Committee,” granted power to peer into the heart of our churches, to potentially regulate doctrine, to “restore order”. One commissioner had even sneered, saying if a man claims God spoke to him, “tell them to go to the psychiatric ward!”. A chill cut through the heat. This was not about spraying insecticide on congregants or other grotesque abuses—laws already exist for that. This was about the throne. It was a direct challenge: Who is sovereign in the sanctuary? The state or the Saviour?
In that moment, gazing from my window in Akasia over a landscape transforming from semi-rural holdings to a bustling, cosmopolitan node, I understood the battle line. It is the same line that runs through every human heart, every society, every age. It is the battle for sovereignty—the ultimate, unquestionable authority. We live in a world littered with counterfeit crowns: the crown of state control, the crown of cultural consensus, the crown of personal preference. Each demands our allegiance, each whispers promises of order and freedom. But, my friend, there is only one throne that does not totter, only one crown that is not cosmetic, only one authority in which our fractured world can find its true, lasting peace.
Defining the Divine Dominion: What Sovereignty Is and Is Not
Let us define our terms clearly, for confusion here is the devil’s playground. Sovereignty, in its truest, biblical sense, is the absolute, autonomous, and providential rule of God over all creation—past, present, and future. It is not a distant oversight but an intimate dominion. It means His will is the ultimate cause, His word the final law, His purpose the guiding principle of all that is. This is not the tyranny of a celestial despot, but the ordered, loving, and just rule of a perfect Father and King.
Contrast this with its worldly counterfeits:
· State Sovereignty: The belief that the final authority rests in the human institution of government. It promises security but so often descends into control, seeking to command conscience as it commands commerce.
· Personal Sovereignty: The modern mantra of “my truth, my rules.” It promises freedom but delivers the quiet despair of isolation, making each person a lonely monarch of a crumbling kingdom.
· Cultural Sovereignty: The pressure to conform to the shifting zeitgeist, where “progress” becomes the ultimate good. It promises belonging but demands the sacrifice of conviction on the altar of relevance.
The ancient conflict is before us once more. It is the same confrontation Daniel faced when a state decree forbade prayer to any but the king. He did not rally a protest; he simply opened his window. He acknowledged a higher throne. The lions in the den were less fearsome to him than the thought of denying the true Sovereign.
The South African Crucible: A Prophetic Confrontation
This brings us to our current moment, right here in the complexity of South Africa. The proposal for a state-backed regulatory body for religion is not merely a policy debate. It is a philosophical and theological earthquake. Its proponents cite real horrors—the spraying of Doom on people, the drinking of petrol—atrocities that rightfully stir outrage. Their solution? Bring the church under the supervision of the state to prevent such “spiritual crimes”.
Here we must sound the alarm with prophetic clarity. The error is not in seeking justice—our existing criminal law is fully capable of prosecuting fraud and assault, whether in a church or a casino. The error is in the category confusion. It is in believing that the state, itself a God-ordained institution for temporal justice (Romans 13:1-4), possesses the competence or the mandate to adjudicate spiritual truth or govern the bride of Christ.
The logical argument can be formulated thus:
1. Major Premise: Any entity that claims authority to define or regulate core spiritual doctrine and practice assumes the role of a sovereign over the conscience.
2. Minor Premise: The South African state, via the proposed Section 22 Committee, claims authority to regulate religious practice and potentially doctrine to “restore order”.
3. Conclusion: Therefore, this action constitutes a claim of sovereignty over the spiritual realm, a domain where Christ alone is Head (Colossians 1:18).
A common objection arises: “But what about the abuse? Surely someone must step in!” And this fails because it creates a false dilemma. It suggests the only options are state control or anarchic abuse. The biblical and rational response is that abuse is already illegal. Prosecute the criminals. But do not use the crimes of false shepherds as a pretext to build a legislative cage for the true flock. To regulate the church like a profession—law or accounting—is to profoundly misunderstand its nature. You cannot license a prophet. You cannot standardize the movement of the Spirit. The moment you try, you have, by definition, placed a human authority above divine revelation.
The Lion and The Lamb: The Unshakeable Logic of Christ’s Crown
So where do we turn? We turn to the only one whose sovereignty is coupled with perfect sacrifice, whose authority is forged in perfect love. Scripture presents us with a stunning, paradoxical image: Jesus Christ, the Lion of the tribe of Judah and the Lamb who was slain (Revelation 5:5-6).
This is the heart of our confidence. The Lion speaks of unassailable authority. In our African context, we understand the lion. Its roar establishes territory, communicates power, and strikes fear. It is the king. Yet, the enemy, Satan, also prowls like a roaring lion, seeking to terrify and devour through accusation and fear. How do we tell the difference? We look at the claws. The devil’s roar is one of taking. Christ’s roar is that of a protector taking charge because He has already given. He is the Lion who conquered by becoming the Lamb.
This is the master key to Christian philosophical thought: Sovereignty is ultimately demonstrated in sacrifice, and authority is perfected in service. The Cross was not a moment of divine weakness but the ultimate expression of sovereign control. As the early Church Fathers understood, true philosophy—the love of wisdom—found its fulfillment not in abstract Greek debates, but in the person of Christ. Here, reason and revelation kiss. The logical mind asks: What kind of king wins by dying? The heart, illuminated by the Spirit, answers: The one who reigns over death itself.
The Garden of Your Spirit: A Call to Unyielding Allegiance
Therefore, what does this mean for you, today, in your office in Sandton, your classroom in Soweto, or your home here in Akasia? It means your primary citizenship is not up for debate. Your highest loyalty is not negotiable.
Your inner world is a throne room. Every day, a procession of petitioners approaches: the anxieties of load-shedding, the pressures of social media’s approval, the seductive lies of moral compromise, even the well-intentioned but overreaching arm of the state. They all seek to sit in the seat reserved for the King. Do not let them. Your daily spiritual discipline is the act of a royal chamberlain, diligently ensuring only one occupies the throne.
Water this conviction with prayer—not shallow whispers, but the deep, scriptural prayers that remind God of His own promises. Fence it with scripture—not as a decorative picket, but as a fortress wall of “It is written.” Let no man, no commission, no cultural trend uproot what God has planted within you. Like the acacia tree that endures the harsh veld, let your faith be deep-rooted in the bedrock of Christ’s finished work.
The great treasure of freedom is not found in the absence of authority, but in joyful submission to the right authority. When you bow to Christ, you stand tall against every other tyranny. You can respect the magistrate while obeying the Master. You can engage the culture while refusing its crown.
So, let the committees debate. Let the world roar. You listen for a different sound. You follow a different Lion. Fix your eyes on the throne of heaven, where the One who holds the stars in place also holds you. And from that place of unshakable safety, you can face every den, confront every false authority, and live with a courage that baffles the world—the courage of a soul that has already been claimed by the Sovereign King.
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