The Gospel of the Kingdom

The traditional evangelical approach to sharing the gospel often begins with sin and forgiveness, but this sermon argues that the primary message of the gospel is that Jesus is King. This kingdom-centered understanding frames salvation as taking refuge in Christ's kingdom from the oppression of worldly and spiritual powers. The sermon explains how this reframing helps us better understand both evangelism and Christian security, suggesting that our eternal destiny hinges not on perfect behavior but on our recognition of and submission to Christ's kingship.

Transcript:

Thank you, Dan. Dan is absolutely right—the gospel is bigger than you think. Today, we’re diving into the first proper message on the gospel. Last week, we had an introduction. If you missed it, I encourage you to catch up on the message. It’s available on our website, YouTube channel, and probably on Band as well. If you missed last week—many of you did because of the tropical storm—please take the time to watch it so you’ll understand where we’re heading over the next few weeks.

Today, we’re talking about the kingdom of God as the gospel. When I read the Bible and consider the overarching story of what God is doing from beginning to end, I see the kingdom of God not just as an illustration but as the very object of God’s activity. The story of the Bible is the story of the kingdom of God coming together.

When I think about evangelism or the gospel—the message about Jesus—I view it through the lens of the kingdom of God because that’s the language the scriptures use. I understand not everyone sees it this way. Many people focus on the cross event, emphasizing that Jesus died for the forgiveness of sins. For them, that is the gospel—a simple, singular truth. But I’m here to tell you that the gospel is bigger than you think. As significant and important as the cross is—and it is central—the gospel encompasses far more.

A good friend of mine is organizing an evangelistic crusade. You may know these as revival events. They’ve booked JetHawk Stadium and are planning attractions like professional wrestlers, dirt bikes, live music, food, and more, all to draw a crowd for a 20-minute gospel presentation. The hope is that people will hear the message, come to faith, and decide to follow Jesus.

They’ve asked me—and by extension, you—to be involved. So I feel it’s only fair to share that I’ve declined. I’ve told them I won’t participate because, at its core, I don’t believe the gospel can be fully presented in 20 minutes. We’re spending eight weeks exploring the gospel, and even that feels insufficient. As I’ve outlined these messages, I’m keenly aware that I could spend a year talking about the kingdom of God throughout the scriptures. Each facet of the gospel is an inexhaustible well of knowledge, wisdom, and story. So when someone claims they can do justice to the gospel in just 20 minutes, I have to question how that’s possible.

The reality is this: in evangelical or Protestant Christian circles, there is a cultural way of proclaiming the gospel that has reduced the message of Jesus to the idea that you need to believe Jesus died for sins. A typical gospel presentation might go something like this:

It starts with an anecdote meant to convince people that they are sinners—that they have wronged an almighty God. If someone accepts that, they naturally want to know the solution. The response is often, “Jesus died so you don’t have to. He took away the wrath of God for sins.” Then the question is asked, “Would you like to believe in Jesus?”

Often, the approach involves making people feel very bad about their sin. If you can press that guilt hard enough, they’re more likely to say, “Yes, I’ll believe in Jesus.” Add good music, create an emotional atmosphere, and further stir their guilt, and they might make a decision for Jesus. The message is: believe in Jesus because he died for your sins. If they say, “I believe,” the next step is baptism. They’re baptized, they come out of the water, and then they’re told, “By the way, the Bible says you should obey Jesus. Amen.” From there, the rest of their lives are framed as learning to follow Jesus and give authority over to him.

Matthew Bates, a scholar I follow, argues that this model is actually backward compared to what the Bible teaches. It gets the content right, but the sequence is wrong. Modern Christianity often says, “Believe in Jesus because he died for sins. Great—now get baptized, and now follow Jesus as King.” But the scriptures teach that you haven’t truly presented the gospel unless you begin with the proclamation: Jesus is King.

You cannot even believe that your sin offends God unless you first believe that Jesus is King. Last week, we talked about the kingdom of God as the hub of the gospel, from which all the effects of the gospel flow. Many of the things we often call the gospel—like the forgiveness of sins—are actually effects of the gospel. The gospel itself is the story of what God is doing, specifically through Jesus Christ, from the beginning of creation to the consummation of all things, when we enter into the eternal kingdom of God.

At the heart of this gospel story is the image of the kingdom of God. To understand the kingdom of God, we need to start with the problem of humanity. Why is it that humans cannot seem to submit to God’s kingdom? Let’s explore this.

The first reason humans have a problem with God is our rebellion. This rebellion is at the heart of our broken relationship with him. Look at Romans 3:23: “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” At first glance, you might say, “See, Anthony, it’s right there. All have sinned. The problem is sin. You need to talk about the cross, atonement, and Jesus’ reparation for sin.”

But I don’t want you to miss a crucial word in this verse: glory. The problem here isn’t just human sin—it’s what sin does to God’s glory. “For all have sinned, and because of that sin, fall short of God’s glory.” The issue at stake is God’s glory being diminished by human rebellion.

We can look to Adam and Eve in the garden as an example of how this works. They were placed in the garden and commanded to live fruitful lives. God told them, “Be fruitful and multiply. Have dominion over all things. Eat from any tree in the garden, except the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.” Their purpose was to live beautiful, productive lives, raising children within the kingdom of God. As humanity grew and filled the earth, the garden itself was to expand.

The goal was for the garden—this small paradise—to spread across the whole world, culminating in the beautiful, worldwide kingdom of God. A union between God and humanity. The kingdom of God forever.

But, as you know, humans sinned. They were meant to glorify God, to crown him as king, to elevate him above all things. Instead, they defied him. They took the only law God gave them—don’t eat from that tree—and broke it.

The serpent, who was in the garden, enticed Eve with a promise: “You will be like God, knowing good and evil.” Eve’s problem wasn’t that she had a natural desire to sin or a love for wickedness. She wasn’t some kind of addict or someone reveling in sin. Her problem was that she believed she could be like God. She thought she could elevate herself to his level.

Eve believed she could take God’s crown and place it over her own life. That’s what the serpent tempted her with, and it’s what she took. When she ate the fruit, God responded by saying, in essence, “Fine, go outside the garden.” He placed cherubim to guard the entrance so they could no longer return. God sent Adam and Eve out into the wilderness, into a world of weeds and hardship, and said, “Go build your kingdom out there.”

And that’s exactly what they did. Adam and Eve left the garden and began to have children and build their kingdom—a worldly kingdom. The kingdom of God had been in the garden, but they rebelled against it and chose to establish their own kingdom in a broken, rough world.

The result was not just separation from God’s presence but excommunication from God’s kingdom. They were placed outside the garden’s walls. This pattern of rebellion—both human and divine—is critical to understanding what happened. Divine beings often play a role in human rebellion, just as the serpent did in the garden. While the serpent didn’t technically break God’s law, he inspired Eve to do so.

The most striking example of divine rebellion is found in what we call the divine council. You may not have encountered this concept before, but if you’ve listened to me for a while, you’ve likely heard about it. Let’s look at Deuteronomy 32:8. This verse says, “When the Most High gave the nations their inheritance and divided the human race, he set the boundaries of the peoples according to the number of the sons of Israel” (in some translations). However, in more modern translations, you’ll see it rendered as “according to the number of the sons of God.”

Let me explain what’s happening here. Until about 60 years ago, our copies of the Hebrew Old Testament were relatively modern—they didn’t date back to the time of Jesus, let alone earlier. But then, as you’ve probably heard, the Dead Sea Scrolls were discovered in the Qumran caves. Along with other ancient documents, these findings provided copies of the Old Testament that are much older than what we previously had.

What’s remarkable is that when scholars compared these ancient texts with the later manuscripts—like those used for the King James Bible—they found over 99.99% agreement. This discovery confirms the incredible accuracy of the transmission of scripture over time.

The King James Bible, for reference, was translated in the 1600s, long before the discovery of these ancient manuscripts. Yet, despite this gap, the text aligns almost perfectly with these much older sources, highlighting the reliability of God’s word.

The King James Bible was the first significant English translation of the scriptures. Many modern translations, including the Christian Standard Bible (CSB), which I usually preach from, still follow the King James tradition in some cases. For example, in Deuteronomy 32, some translations say “the people of Israel” instead of “the sons of God.” This isn’t because that’s what the Hebrew text originally says, but because they’re following the King James tradition.

What I want you to understand is that the original manuscripts—the words Moses penned—said that the boundaries of the peoples were set according to the number of the sons of God. So, why such a significant change? Why replace “sons of God” with “people of Israel”? The answer lies in the identity of the sons of God. In the Old Testament, the sons of God are divine beings—the first creations of God. They were divine judges placed over the nations.

Deuteronomy 32:8 describes this: “The Most High”—that’s Yahweh, God Almighty—“gave the nations their inheritance and divided the human race.” This refers to the Tower of Babel event when languages were confused, and the nations were formed. How many languages emerged at that time? The number corresponds to the sons of God, typically understood as 70 or 72, depending on the manuscript tradition. These sons of God—divine beings, or angels if that term is more familiar—were assigned as judges over the nations.

This is how God set it up. Throughout scripture, we see God using divine beings as ministering spirits to accomplish his purposes. In the same way, God calls humans into his kingdom to take up the mantle originally given to Adam and Eve—to accomplish his work on earth. God doesn’t need us, nor does he need angels, but he chooses to use us. It’s part of his economy, his fellowship with creation, and it brings him joy and glory.

But something went wrong. Look at Psalm 82:1–2: “God stands in the divine council; he pronounces judgment among the gods. How long will you judge unjustly and show partiality to the wicked?” The “gods” here are those divine judges—the sons of God—placed over the nations. Psalm 82 reveals their rebellion. Instead of judging justly, they showed partiality to the wicked and oppressed the people.

This divine rebellion trickled down to humanity. These corrupt divine rulers influenced human rulers, and those human rulers learned to oppress and judge unjustly, mirroring the actions of the divine beings. The result was a cascading pattern of injustice and oppression across the nations.

There’s a pattern of rebellion that extends from the divine realm to the physical. You’ve often heard me say that everything happening in the physical world has underpinnings in the spiritual world. Nothing occurs in the physical realm that isn’t influenced—either righteously or unrighteously—by the spiritual. Just as the serpent entered the garden to inspire Eve to sin, Eve, by her own will, chose to sin, but her actions were influenced by the spiritual force behind it.

There is always an interplay between human rebellion and spiritual rebellion. Whenever we see humans rebelling against God’s kingdom, there is a spiritual battle underpinning it. This is the essence of what we’re discussing: the sons of God ruling unjustly and acting wickedly.

Look at 2 Corinthians 11:3, where Paul writes, “I fear that, as the serpent deceived Eve by his cunning, your minds may be seduced from a sincere and pure devotion to Christ.” Paul is making the same connection. He’s saying that falling away from your commitment to Christ mirrors what happened in the garden when Eve turned away from her loyalty to her King, her divine King. The same dynamic is at work.

Fallen divine beings actively work against Christ’s kingship. Their purpose, even today, is to seduce you away from submitting to Christ’s rule. This is what they do.

Let’s return to Psalm 82, verses 3 and 4, which give us more details about the wickedness of these divine beings: “Provide justice for the needy and the fatherless. Uphold the rights of the oppressed and the destitute. Rescue the poor and needy. Save them from the power of the wicked.” What these verses imply is that the unjust gods—these fallen beings—were doing the opposite of this. They were showing partiality to the wicked and working to bless oppressors who took advantage of the weak.

This aligns with what we see in the ancient world. In many ancient cultures, success, wealth, and power were viewed as evidence of divine blessing. If you were rich and others were poor, it was believed the gods favored you. Conversely, if you were oppressed, poor, or weak, it was thought that the gods didn’t love you or that you had somehow offended them.

This belief system is evident in Greek mythology, where the wealthiest or most successful characters often view themselves as blessed by the gods. Meanwhile, the poor and downtrodden are seen as cursed or unworthy. This aligns perfectly with the idea of unjust spiritual rulers over the nations. If these spiritual beings were corrupt, it’s no surprise that their influence led to myths and systems that elevated the wicked and oppressed the righteous—just as described in Psalm 82.

You can see the pattern here. The Israelites, instead of worshiping the true God, began to worship the gods of the nations—these unjust rulers. What happens as a result? Let’s look at Amos 2:6–8 and compare it to what we saw about the gods and nations in Psalm 82.

The Lord says: “I will not relent from punishing Israel for three crimes, even four, because they sell a righteous person for silver and a needy person for a pair of sandals. They trample the heads of the poor on the dust of the ground and obstruct the path of the needy.” Do you see the parallel? The wicked oppress the righteous. They not only trample on the poor but actively block their way out of poverty, ensuring they remain oppressed and disadvantaged.

The passage continues: “A man and his father have sexual relations with the same girl, profaning my holy name. They stretch out beside every altar on garments taken as collateral.” This refers to sexually immoral practices tied to cultic rituals. The phrase “garments taken as collateral” is a polite way of describing how women were exploited and pressured into degrading acts, supposedly for spiritual benefit at the altars of these gods. It goes on: “And in the house of their god, they drink wine obtained through fines.” The rituals themselves involved extortion—people were fined and robbed, hoping for blessings from these unjust gods. Instead, they were further humiliated and oppressed.

This demonstrates a clear connection: when unjust spiritual beings rule, unjust human beings follow their pattern. The humble are humiliated, the poor are oppressed, and the righteous are crushed. This is why, when the wickedness of the Watchers in Genesis 6 spread across the earth, we read that “every inclination of the thoughts of the human heart was only evil all the time” (Genesis 6:5). The greater the power of evil in the spiritual realm, the greater the evil in the hearts of humankind in the physical realm.

Divine beings have one primary goal: to draw attention away from God and his kingdom so that people do not submit to him as King. Their purpose isn’t necessarily to make themselves kings or to receive glory for themselves. Today, more than in the Old Testament, they’re not as focused on being worshiped directly. Their primary goal is simply to ensure that God doesn’t receive glory.

Though they’ve already lost the war, they continue this last-ditch effort to oppose God and his people in any way they can. Their rebellion is fueled by spite—seeking to rob God of the glory due to him by pulling humanity away from him.

We live in a world that feels like it’s falling apart. Everyone can see it, whether they’re a Christian or not. People look at what’s happening—whether it’s ecological, political, or something else—and express a sense of hopelessness. This despair is universal. But the scriptures teach us that there’s a spiritual war underlying it all, tearing things apart, and humanity is following along with it.

So, what’s the solution? If we all have to live in this broken world, where spiritual forces are causing destruction, what do we do? The answer the scriptures give is this: take refuge in Christ the King. Become a refugee in the kingdom of God.

The New Testament introduces the idea of two kingdoms. We’ve been touching on this in our Tuesday night studies in Daniel, and just recently, we really dug into it. In the Old Testament, there were many distinct kingdoms—Egypt, Babylon, Assyria—but by the time we reach the New Testament, all those kingdoms are generalized into one: the kingdom of this world. In contrast, we now have the kingdom of God, which is not of this world.

The kingdom of God is a refuge for the oppressed in the kingdom of this world. When the kingdom of the world operates like Israel in the days of Amos—where those who try to live righteously are oppressed—the kingdom of God provides safety.

You’ve experienced what it’s like to feel alone in your efforts to live rightly. You know what it’s like to be the only person obeying the law when everyone else seems to look the other way. Think about those temptations we all face to “bend the rules.” Maybe it’s how you handle your tax receipts, or maybe it’s something else—a corner you’re tempted to cut because you think no one will notice. It’s easy to justify, right? Everyone else is doing it, so why can’t I?

We hear stories of people extorting thousands of dollars from a company, and we wonder, “How could they do that? How did they think they could get away with it?” But that’s the nature of the kingdom of this world—it encourages us to live in rebellion, to justify wrongdoing because it seems everyone else is doing the same.

It happens because they got away with it once, then twice, then three times—until they didn’t. Eventually, it caught up with them, and what started small became a federal crime because they had taken so much. How does that happen? It’s because we all know people are getting away with things, and there’s a temptation to walk in the ways of the world. When you don’t join in, it can feel like you’re falling behind.

You’re trying to live righteously. You manage your household budget responsibly, you care for your kids, and you strive to make good decisions. But sometimes you think, If I just cut corners like everyone else, maybe life would get a little easier. We’ve all felt that tension. Yet we’re called to enter into the kingdom of God—not to fight oppression by joining the rebellion against God’s kingdom, but by taking refuge under Christ.

Look at Romans 5:10: “For if, while we were enemies, we were reconciled to God through the death of his Son, then how much more, having been reconciled, will we be saved by his life?” Notice the word enemies. That’s a weighty term. Paul is saying that before you knew Jesus, before you entered his kingdom, before you acknowledged Christ as King, you were an enemy of God. There’s no middle ground.

Think about that. How many people do you know who openly hate God? Many don’t go to church, don’t believe in Jesus, don’t read the Bible, or call themselves Christians—but would you say they hate God? Paul says they do.

Eve believed in God. She knew Yahweh created all things. She had seen him face to face in the garden. She believed in God. But her understanding of God centered on herself—what pleased her.

Most people believe in God. But the tendency of the human heart is not to submit to Christ and be conformed into his image; it’s to craft God into our image. Do you see that? Our natural inclination is to remake God in our likeness, rather than surrender ourselves to be remade in his likeness.

This tendency is strikingly similar to what Eve did in the garden. When people say, “I believe in God, but I don’t need church,” or, “I have my own beliefs about God,” do you see what they’re doing? They’re doing exactly what Eve did. They’re rewriting who God is to make him a God of their own making. They’re turning the Creator into the created—redefining God to fit their preferences.

And this is completely opposed to what the word God even means.

They take the glory of the Creator, the one who made all things, and shred it, glorifying themselves by crafting God back in their own image. So, I’ll ask you again: does that make them enemies of God? You might think, Oh, but they’re good people. But are they? They’ve destroyed the image of God to elevate themselves. They’ve taken Christ off the throne to crown themselves, seizing his glory and scepter as their own.

Do people really hate God? Are they truly his enemies? If they refuse to fall on their knees before the throne of Christ our King, the answer is yes. People are haters of God and at enmity with him. Paul says elsewhere that they are his enemies.

But here’s the good news: we were reconciled. Out there in the world, where I’m trying to build my throne, my glory, and my crown, someone else is right beside me doing the same—trying to make their throne higher, their mountain greater. If their mountain is higher than mine, I’ll find myself oppressed under them. If my mountain is higher than theirs, they’ll be oppressed under me. Everything in this world is about striving to be on top, to build the highest mountain for the god of our making.

Then Jesus declares: My mountain is the highest mountain. My throne is the highest throne. My dominion is the greatest dominion. But here’s the astounding part: Christ’s dominion doesn’t oppress. Instead, he steps down from his throne, humbles himself, and takes the form of a servant. He becomes lowly, like us, so he can lift us up to him. He steps down from his crown, so that when he is exalted back to his rightful place, he can bring us with him.

The devil doesn’t want to make people atheists. That’s not his goal. He doesn’t need people to deny God’s existence. Instead, he wants people to believe in God but to remake him into a god of their own making—a god who is not the God of the Bible. The devil’s primary aim is to dethrone Christ. He doesn’t care what you worship, as long as it’s not the true King.

We were all born into the kingdom of this world. None of us were born into the kingdom of God. It’s only when we recognize Jesus as King and submit ourselves to him that we are reborn into the kingdom of God. Paul explains that through the death of Christ, we have reconciliation. When we are reconciled to Christ, we become refugees in his kingdom. He opens the doors of his kingdom to anyone who will submit to him as King.

Think about what it means to be a refugee. When the United States opens its doors to those fleeing oppression in other countries, they must agree to live under U.S. law. Similarly, when Christ opens the doors of his kingdom to us, we enter not on our terms but on his. Refugees in God’s kingdom submit to his kingship, leaving behind the rebellion of the kingdom of this world.

Did you know that refugees don’t get to come to the United States and live however they want? They don’t get to make their own laws. That’s not what it means to be a refugee. The same is true in God’s kingdom. Refugees in God’s kingdom come under his rule.

Jesus said, “Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:28–30). Notice what Jesus is saying: you still carry a yoke, still live under a law. But in God’s kingdom, the law is life-giving. It’s a joyful, liberating law. It’s not a law that drains life; it’s a law that fills it.

When you come into Christ’s kingdom as a refugee, you forsake the way the world operates. You submit to the law of Christ—the law of the King of God’s kingdom. And as a result, as Paul says, “Having been reconciled, we will be saved by his life” (Romans 5:10). Life in God’s kingdom means giving up the death that comes from following the world’s ways and instead receiving the abundant life Christ offers.

If the devil’s goal is to keep people out of God’s kingdom, it makes sense why the New Testament speaks of Jesus as the one who conquers the works of the devil—and, by extension, the gods of the nations. Jesus has defeated their schemes. And today, Christ continues his conquering work through his body, the church.

Let’s transition here, because you might be thinking, I thought this was about the gospel and evangelism. It is. But if you don’t understand the kingdom, how it works, and what Christ has accomplished, you won’t understand how to share the gospel. That’s why we’ve started here. But we’re getting to evangelism.

Let’s first look at what Jesus accomplished. In 1 Peter 3:18–19, we read: “For Christ also suffered for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, that he might bring you to God. He was put to death in the flesh but made alive by the Spirit, in which he also went and made proclamation to the spirits in prison.”

This passage reflects what is affirmed in the Apostles’ Creed and Nicene Creed—Christ’s descent into hell. It’s part of the work Jesus completed, humbling himself to bring us up to the Father. He descended to proclaim victory over the rebellious spiritual beings, demonstrating his authority over even the darkest realms.

When Jesus took our sins upon himself at the cross, he took them to where they belong. We’ll dive deeper into that concept in about four weeks, so I won’t elaborate too much here.

You might wonder, What was Jesus doing in hell? Acts 2:24 tells us: “God raised him up, ending the pains of death, because it was not possible for him to be held by death.” Notice the word ending. The principle here isn’t just that Jesus overcame death for himself, but that he overcame death for all time. Humanity was chained by death, destined for Hades, but Jesus went there and broke those chains. Now, life after death is possible. He has ended death’s pain.

We see this vividly in what’s called the Harrowing of Hell, described in Matthew 27:52–53: “The tombs were also opened, and many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised. And they came out of the tombs after his resurrection, entered the holy city, and appeared to many.” Why did this happen? Because death had been defeated. The chains were broken. As Jesus rose, the saints—God’s holy ones who had died—were also raised to life.

The assumption in the ancient church is that these saints, following Jesus, ascended with him in his resurrection. If you look up the Harrowing of Hell—H-A-R-R-O-W-I-N-G—you’ll find this ancient story of Christ emptying hell of God’s people as he ascended to heaven.

Christ’s work was to empty hell of God’s people. The church’s work, then, is to empty the world of God’s people—to call them to King Jesus as refugees. This is where it gets interesting. Much of our thinking about how the church relates to the world is shaped by the idea of transformationalism. It’s the belief that if we’re good people, acting as the hands and feet of Jesus, we’ll turn the world into the kingdom of God.

But that’s not the story the scriptures tell. The scriptures tell a different story. Our job as the church isn’t to transform the world into the kingdom of God but to gather God’s people out of the world. Our mission is to find the saints—to call the righteous—and bring them into the kingdom of God. All who would come are invited.

In the end, when the world is destroyed, those who have been reconciled to Christ—those who have found refuge in his kingdom—will be saved on the day of judgment. That’s the essence of our mission.

This brings us to the Great Commission and how the church operates under Christ’s reign. If Christ is King, seated at the right hand of God and reigning over us, then how do we submit to him as King while still living in this world?

The language the scriptures use to describe our position in this world is that we are sojourners or aliens. We belong to a kingdom that is not of this world, yet we still live here. So, what do we do if our job isn’t to transform the world? Let’s look at the Great Commission in Matthew 28:18–20:

“Jesus came near to them and said, ‘All authority has been given to me in heaven and on earth. Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe everything I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.’”

The word authority is crucial here. When Jesus says, “All authority has been given to me in heaven and on earth,” he’s referring to both heavenly authorities and earthly authorities. As Paul says in Romans 13, all earthly authorities have been placed there by God. Peter echoes this in 1 Peter, emphasizing that earthly rulers are under God’s authority.

But here’s the key: all authority—heavenly and earthly—has been given to Jesus. Some earthly rulers don’t obey Christ’s authority, and that’s why we see so many failing to follow him. But their authority still exists under his sovereign rule.

What about the heavenly authorities—the gods of the nations? People often ask, Are those spiritual beings still ruling over nations? Is there a spiritual being ruling over China or Russia? My short answer is: I don’t know if any specific spiritual beings are trying to rule, but I do know that Jesus has taken away their rightful authority to reign.

Do I think spiritual beings are still working everywhere, trying to lead people away from the kingdom of God? Absolutely, yes. But as the church, it’s important to understand that Jesus has their authority. And as Christ’s body, we share in that authority. Did you know that you have authority even over those spiritual forces?

This is why, in the book of Acts, we see the disciples casting out demons just as Jesus did in the gospel accounts. They’re amazed by the power they wield in his name, saying, “Even the demons flee in our presence!” (Luke 10:17). Think about what kind of power and authority it takes to cast out a spiritual being. That authority comes from Jesus, the one to whom all authority has been given.

And with that authority, Jesus commands us: “Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations.” Go to the nations that were once oppressed by those gods. Tell them that Jesus is King. Proclaim that they no longer need to submit to those old, oppressive ways. Tell them the gates of Christ’s kingdom have been opened. The oppression and subjugation they’ve endured under wicked rulers is no longer their destiny. They can come into God’s kingdom. They can find refuge in Christ and become refugees in his kingdom.

Jesus goes on: “Make disciples of all nations.”

It’s fascinating that the word evangelism isn’t a natural term in the scriptures. What is emphasized instead is making disciples—discipleship. Discipleship is the process by which someone moves from being a citizen of the kingdom of this world to becoming a citizen of the kingdom of God.

Jesus says, “Go and make disciples of all nations.” How do we do that? By “baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to observe everything I have commanded you.” So how do you help someone move from the world to the kingdom of God? Through baptism and discipleship.

Baptism serves as a pledge of allegiance to Christ. It’s more than just a symbolic act. There’s a profound theology behind what baptism does for a person, but for today’s purposes, baptism is a declaration that Jesus is King. When I baptize someone, I don’t expect them to fully understand everything Jesus has done. Most people I’ve baptized haven’t even read the entire Bible. But I’ve never baptized anyone who didn’t understand that their baptism was a declaration of Jesus’ kingship. They are giving up their old lives to be washed, purified, and to live a new life in Christ. That acknowledgment—that Jesus is King—is essential to baptism.

Then comes teaching them to observe everything Jesus commanded. This part is just as important. Jesus is King, and though his law is life-giving and joyful, it is still a law.

The fundamental principle of the gospel, as I see it in the scriptures, is not that Jesus died for the forgiveness of sins. That’s something we come to understand later. The fundamental principle of the gospel is that Jesus is King.

This perspective has what I would call evangelistic strengths. Earlier, I mentioned the author Matthew W. Bates, who wrote a book titled Why the Gospel? In the final chapter, Bates argues that we need to reverse the gospel—not reversing the gospel from what the Bible teaches, but reversing the order in which we’ve been presenting it in our culture.

In the United States, we’ve grown accustomed to preaching the gospel in a way that isn’t biblically ordered. This may be why evangelism methods, like crusades, often fail to produce lasting faith. Studies show that most people who come to Christ during a large evangelistic crusade will never step foot in a church again and will stop identifying as Christians within a week. Why is that? Because they responded to an emotional appeal without truly understanding or believing the fundamental principle of the gospel: that Jesus is King.

Bates suggests that we need to reverse this. The traditional gospel presentation—at least as we’ve come to practice it in the U.S.—says, “Believe Jesus died for sins, then get baptized, and then start following him as King.” It puts the kingship of Jesus and obedience at the very end.

You may remember from last week that, properly speaking, the gospel means God’s story. It’s the good news of what Jesus did—not the effects of what he did. I used this example: if you say, “Jesus Christ died for the forgiveness of sins,” the gospel is that Jesus died. The effect of the gospel is the forgiveness of sins.

What we’ve often done is put the effects up front. We’ve emphasized forgiveness of sins as the core of the gospel, but the fundamental thing Jesus did to rescue us and bring us into eternal joy is to ascend to the right hand of the Father and sit enthroned in heaven as King. That is primary. Unless you are willing to believe that Jesus is King, the rest of the gospel doesn’t make sense.

To truly embrace Jesus as King, you must look at every other kingship in this world—including your own self-rule—and recognize its failure. You must look at the kings of this world and see how they work for their own glory, their own fame, their own wealth, and their own power. Then you look to Jesus and see that he is a righteous King. Jesus doesn’t work for his own glory in a way that excludes us; rather, his glory uplifts us. His kingship is an outpouring of love for us. He ascended to the right hand of the Father so that, out of love, he could bring us with him.

Jesus’ kingship is not about oppression or self-serving power—it’s about refuge. It’s about eternal joy in the kingdom of God. If you are willing to say, “Jesus is King,” then that belief becomes the foundation. Once someone declares Jesus as King, they are baptized as a pledge of their allegiance to him.

Now, this next part often comes long after baptism. People frequently ask, “How do I know I’m forgiven? How do I know God truly accepts me?” That’s a question that arises because, even after coming to faith, people still sin. Day after day, guilt can creep in, and they begin to wonder, “Does God still love me? Does he still want me? Does he still accept me?”

If that’s where you are today, I encourage you to look back at the gospel. Ask yourself: What do I believe about Jesus? Do you believe he sits on high? Do you believe that he is King, that all authority in heaven and on earth has been given to him? If you do, then ask yourself: Have I come into his kingdom? Have I been baptized?

If the answer is yes, then your baptism is your pledge of allegiance to him. It is your declaration that Jesus is King. And if you are secure in his kingdom, you do not need to tie your eternal security to your sin. If your salvation is tied to whether or not you sin, you’ll always feel like you’re on the fence. But your security isn’t based on you—it’s based on him.

Christian, is Jesus King? Can you find security in that truth? If you are struggling with ongoing patterns of sin, then by all means, walk in Christ’s goodness. There’s a reason you don’t love your sin—it’s not working out for you. Step away from it so you can experience the joy of the kingdom. But remember this: your security in God’s kingdom is not tied to your sin. It is tied to Jesus as King.

Let me close with this. When Jesus hung on the cross, there was a man crucified next to him. Most translations of the Bible call him a thief, but he wasn’t just someone who stole bread. He was likely a zealot, a Jewish rebel opposing Roman rule in some way, trying to free Israel from Roman oppression. That’s why he was being crucified. Crucifixion wasn’t reserved for petty thieves; it was a punishment for rebels against the Roman Empire. It’s also why Jesus was crucified—Rome saw him as a threat to their rule.

While this rebel was hanging on the cross, he spoke to Jesus. In Luke 23:42–43, we read: “He said, ‘Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.’ And Jesus said to him, ‘Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.’”

That word paradise means the garden. Jesus was saying, “You will be with me in the restored garden, the eternal kingdom of God.”

Notice what the man didn’t say. He didn’t say, “Jesus, forgive my sins when you come into your kingdom.” He didn’t say, “Jesus, remember how you forgave others; please forgive me too.” What he said was, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

That statement was his baptism, so to speak—his profession of faith and his pledge of allegiance. He acknowledged Jesus as King, saying, “When your kingdom comes, I want to be with you.” And Jesus responded, “Okay, you’ll be with me in paradise.”

That’s the gospel transaction. Nothing more is required for someone to become a Christian. Forsaking the kingdoms of this world and giving allegiance to Christ and his kingdom—that is the hinge pin of the gospel.

You don’t need to understand atonement theories. You don’t need to grasp exactly how Jesus’ blood saves you from the penalty of sin. Those theological details are important, and we’ll talk about them in the coming weeks. But the central truth of the gospel is this: Jesus is King.

Who is your king? Are you your own king? Are the gods of this world your king? Or is Jesus your King? If Jesus is your King, then even if you were to die today, Jesus would say to you, “Today you will be with me in paradise.” That is the primary factor—perhaps the only factor—that determines where you will spend eternity: Who is King?

Are you the king of your own life? Is the world your king? Or is Jesus your King?

This is why I want to emphasize the last slide again. If there are people in your life who aren’t walking with Jesus, and you want to see them come to faith, come to church, and come into the kingdom of God, start by asking: Who is their king?

Some of these people may seem like good people. They do nice things—they give to the man outside the gas station, they bring meals to others, they speak kindly, and they don’t curse much. They might seem generally decent. But ask yourself: Who is their king? Have you ever asked them: Who is your king?

What do they serve above all else? What is their ultimate authority? That’s often the place to begin gospel conversations. Ask, How’s that working out for you? How’s it working out being the king of your own life? And then pose this question: What if Jesus were your King? What might be different?

I believe that’s the starting point for most gospel conversations.

Now, I’ll say this: what I’ve shared today is only a fraction of the research I’ve done on this topic. If you’re thinking, Wow, Anthony, that was a lot, but I’d like to put more pieces together, there’s so much more to explore. For those of you who love to geek out on this stuff like I do, I’ll be posting a thorough analysis of this topic later this week on Band. It won’t be on a website or anywhere else, just on Band for you to read if you want to dive deeper.

Let me close with prayer.

Lord, we are so thankful that you are King. Jesus, you have always been King. You are the Creator of the universe, and all things are subject to you—the sun, the moon, the stars, and all creation. Yet, we are most thankful that when humankind was running from you, rebelling against the true and Almighty King of heaven, you came down to us. You humbled yourself, enduring humiliation, even to the point of death on a cross, descending to the pit for our sake.

You did this to loosen our bondage to sin, shame, and death in this world. And in your rising, you brought us with you. We thank you that you came down to bring us up. You are a great God, a loving God, and in every way, we give you all the glory. May we submit to you in all things. Lead us, guide us, and give us the confidence of eternity in your kingdom.

We pray this in Jesus’ name. Amen.