The Stronger One

Reclaiming the freedom to choose in an age of manufactured faith

Yesterday we stood in the shaking. We felt the ground move beneath every human construction, every system, every wall we’ve built or been trapped behind. We saw both castles exposed, Babylon’s and our own. We heard the promise: what can be shaken will be shaken, so that what cannot be shaken may remain.

But shaking is not the end. Exposure is not liberation. The walls coming down doesn’t automatically mean the captives go free.

Someone has to enter the breach. Someone has to bind the strong man. Someone has to divide the spoil.

Today we meet Him.

The Parable Fulfilled

Thirteen days ago, we began circling a text. We touched it in Day 9 when we first saw the board. Now we return to it, and everything we’ve traced converges here:

“When a strong man, fully armed, guards his own palace, his goods are safe; but when one stronger than he attacks him and overcomes him, he takes away his armor in which he trusted and divides his spoil.” (Luke 11:21-22)

The strong man. We’ve seen him now. We’ve traced his walls, his strategies, his methods of control. The content flood that keeps eyes down. The embarrassment strategy that keeps mouths closed. The spectacle preacher that redirects resistance. The curated gospel that offers photographs instead of bread. The mise-en-scène that makes the stage look like reality. The maze with no exit. Babylon baptized. The mark worn by those who don’t know they’re wearing it.

All of it, every mechanism we’ve exposed, serves one purpose: the strong man guarding his palace, keeping his goods safe inside.

And we were among his goods. The souls he captured. The minds he blinded. The lives he stored behind his walls. Pawns on his board. Pieces in his game. Property in his palace.

But the text doesn’t end with the strong man’s security. It ends with his defeat.

One stronger than he attacks him. Overcomes him. Takes away his armor. Divides his spoil.

This is Jesus Christ. And this is what He came to do.

Not a Better Player

Here is what we must understand, what fourteen days have been building toward:

Jesus Christ did not come to play the game better. He came to end it.

He is not a more skilled player moving pieces more wisely on the same board. He is not a better puppet master pulling strings more righteously. He is not the leader of a winning faction within the system.

He overturns the board.

Every other solution we’ve considered, every strategy for escaping the curated gospel, every method of resisting the puppet masters, operates within the game. Better discernment. Purer doctrine. More authentic community. Leaving one church for another. Building alternative structures. Consuming different content.

All of these keep you on the board. Different squares, maybe. Different allegiances, perhaps. But still a piece. Still being played. Still within the system that the strong man built.

Jesus Christ doesn’t offer a better position on the board. He offers exodus from the board entirely. Not propping up Babylon’s structure, but coming out of anything that demands your loyalty more than Christ does. Not improvement of the game but freedom from it.

The strong man’s genius was making us think the board was reality. The Stronger One’s victory is revealing that it never was.

What He Attacks

Notice what Jesus attacks in the parable: the strong man himself.

Not the walls. Not the systems. Not the puppet masters in pulpits. Not the institutions or the structures or the mechanisms of control. The strong man.

We’ve spent thirteen days exposing walls. Naming systems. Identifying mechanisms. And all of that was necessary. You can’t escape what you can’t see. You can’t leave a prison you don’t know you’re in.

But exposing walls doesn’t bring them down. Naming systems doesn’t end them. The walls we’ve identified are not the enemy. They’re the armor. The strong man wears them. He trusts in them. They protect him.

Jesus doesn’t attack the armor first. He attacks the one wearing it. He overcomes the strong man, and then the armor comes off. The walls fall because the one who built them has been defeated.

This is why human strategies ultimately fail. We attack walls. We critique systems. We expose mechanisms. And the strong man just builds new ones. Different walls. Updated systems. More sophisticated mechanisms. The game continues because the player continues.

But when the Stronger One comes, He doesn’t negotiate with walls. He binds the one behind them. And bound men can’t maintain their fortresses.

The Binding

When did this happen? When did the Stronger One attack and overcome?

“Now is the judgment of this world; now will the ruler of this world be cast out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” (John 12:31-32)

Now. At the cross. When Jesus was lifted up. That’s when the ruler of this world was cast out. That’s when the strong man was bound.

“Since therefore the children share in flesh and blood, he himself likewise partook of the same things, that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and deliver all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery.” (Hebrews 2:14-15)

Through death. Jesus destroyed the one who had the power of death. He delivered those who were subject to lifelong slavery. The strong man’s ultimate weapon, death itself, was turned against him. The cross that looked like defeat was actually the binding.

“He disarmed the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame, by triumphing over them in him.” (Colossians 2:15)

Disarmed. The armor the strong man trusted in has been taken. The principalities and powers have been put to open shame. The triumph happened at the cross, in Christ.

This is already accomplished. The Stronger One has already come. The strong man has already been bound. The armor has already been stripped. The victory has already been won.

So why are people still in the palace?

The Spoil Being Divided

The binding happened at the cross. But the dividing of the spoil is ongoing.

“When he ascended on high he led a host of captives, and he gave gifts to men.” (Ephesians 4:8)

He led captives. Past tense. The liberation procession has begun. But it’s still processing. Still leading out. Still dividing spoil.

This is where we are in the story. The strong man is bound. The walls are shaking. The armor is stripped. And Christ is dividing the spoil, calling His own out of the palace, leading captives into freedom, giving gifts to those who were once goods.

Every person who steps off the board is spoil being divided. Every believer who leaves Babylon is plunder being reclaimed. Every soul that moves from pawn to person is proof that the Stronger One has won.

The puppet masters are still pulling strings. The systems are still operating. The walls are still standing in places. But they’re operating on borrowed time with borrowed power. The strong man is bound. He’s thrashing, but he’s chained. Bound in the sense that Christ has broken his ultimate claim and authority, though the evacuation of the palace unfolds as captives hear the Shepherd’s voice and come out. His palace is being emptied. His goods are being liberated. His game is ending.

You are the spoil. And Christ has come to divide you from the one who held you.

The Puppet Masters Were Puppets

Here is the revelation that reframes everything:

The puppet masters we’ve been exposing were never the final enemy. They were puppets themselves.

The pastors who built platforms instead of shepherding sheep, they were being played. The institutions that traded prophetic voice for cultural power, they were pieces on a board they didn’t see. The teachers who curated the gospel into something safe and marketable, they were moved by a hand they didn’t recognize.

“For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.” (Ephesians 6:12)

Not flesh and blood. The puppet masters in pulpits are flesh and blood. The compromised leaders are flesh and blood. The architects of the curated gospel are flesh and blood. And they’re not the real enemy.

Behind them, pulling their strings, stands the strong man. The ruler of this world. The god of this age who blinds minds. The prince of the power of the air. He’s the one who built the board. He’s the one who set up the game. He’s the one who moves the pieces, including the pieces that thought they were players.

This doesn’t excuse the puppet masters. They chose to be used. They accepted the strings. They traded truth for position, prophetic voice for platform, faithfulness for influence. They will give account for every soul they damaged, every mind they confused, every heart they led astray. Forgiveness does not erase consequences, and restoration is not automatic. But grace can reach even there.

But understanding this changes how we see them. They’re not masterminds. They’re captives who became collaborators. Prisoners who became guards. Pawns who were promoted to queens but never left the board.

And that means they can be liberated too.

The Spoil Includes Them

This is the scandal of grace: the spoil Christ divides includes the puppet masters themselves.

Saul of Tarsus was a puppet master. He held the coats at Stephen’s stoning. He breathed threats and murder against the church. He was a piece on the enemy’s board, useful for persecution, advancing the strong man’s strategy.

And Jesus knocked him off his horse and made him an apostle.

The strong man lost one of his best pieces. The persecutor became the preacher. The puppet master became the bondservant of Christ. The one who guarded the palace became the one who led others out of it.

This is what the Stronger One does. He doesn’t just liberate victims. He liberates perpetrators. He doesn’t just free the pawns. He frees the queens. He doesn’t just rescue those who were trapped. He rescues those who did the trapping.

Not because they deserve it. Because He’s stronger than all of it. Stronger than their sin. Stronger than their complicity. Stronger than the strings they pulled and the strings that pulled them.

The strong man’s greatest fear isn’t losing pawns. It’s losing queens. It’s watching his most effective pieces get divided as spoil, transformed from collaborators into witnesses, from puppet masters into prophets.

What Liberation Looks Like

So what does it mean to be divided as spoil? What does liberation actually look like?

It looks like Saul on the Damascus Road, blinded by light, every certainty shattered, asking “Who are you, Lord?” It looks like the total collapse of everything you thought you knew, followed by the slow rebuilding on an entirely different foundation.

It looks like the healed man in John 9, cast out of the synagogue, found by Jesus in his exile, worshiping the One the system rejected. It looks like losing your place at Babylon’s table and discovering you’ve been invited to the true Table.

It looks like the prodigal son coming to himself in a pigpen, realizing even his father’s servants have bread enough to spare. It looks like the long walk home with a rehearsed speech, and the Father running to meet you before you can finish it.

Liberation doesn’t look like victory. It looks like surrender. It doesn’t feel like winning. It feels like dying. The pawn doesn’t defeat the player and claim the board. The pawn gets picked up by a different hand and discovers it was never meant to be a piece at all.

You don’t overcome the strong man. The Stronger One does. You don’t bind the enemy. Christ already has. You don’t liberate yourself. You get liberated. You become spoil. You get divided from everything that held you and given to the One who bought you.

“You are not your own, for you were bought with a price.” (1 Corinthians 6:19-20)

Bought. Purchased. Acquired. You were goods in the strong man’s palace. Now you’re treasured possession of the King. Not by your effort. By His.

The End of Systems

Here is the answer to the question that’s been hovering over this series: How does Jesus bind the strong man without turning liberation into another system?

By being a Person, not a program.

Every system can be co-opted. Every structure can be corrupted. Every method can become a new form of control. We’ve seen it happen throughout history. The pure gospel gets systematized into Christendom. The Reformation gets institutionalized into denominations. The revival gets packaged into conferences. The liberation becomes a new captivity with different walls.

But Jesus Christ is not a system. He is a Person. You cannot institutionalize a relationship. You cannot package presence. You cannot systematize the voice of the living God speaking your name.

The curated gospel tried to turn Him into a product. The puppet masters tried to use Him as a mascot. The compromised church tried to manage Him into a program. And He keeps walking out of their structures, standing at the door, knocking, calling people out.

“Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.” (Revelation 3:20)

He’s outside the system, calling people out of it. Not into a better system. Into relationship with Himself. Not onto a different board. Off the board entirely. Not as pieces in a new game. As children at His table.

The Invitation

Fourteen days ago, we began with a stolen voice. The choice that makes love possible. The freedom that the enemy works to eliminate because genuine love requires genuine choosing.

Now we end where we must end: with the choice itself.

The Stronger One has come. The strong man is bound. The walls are shaking. The opening is here. The spoil is being divided.

And you are being invited to be part of it.

Not to join a movement. Not to align with a faction. Not to adopt a new system of beliefs that positions you correctly on some theological board.

To come to Him. To be known by Him. To hear His voice and follow. To step off the board entirely and discover that you were never meant to be a piece.

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” (Matthew 11:28-30)

The yoke the system put on you was heavy. The burden the puppet masters loaded was crushing. The game was exhausting. The performance was endless. The consumption never satisfied.

His yoke is easy. His burden is light. Because He’s not asking you to play better. He’s asking you to stop playing entirely and come to Him.

Damascus Road Moment

This is the final day. The final invitation. The choice that everything has been building toward.

STOP

Stop fighting the strong man in your own strength. Stop trying to out-strategize the system. Stop attempting to liberate yourself through better discernment or purer doctrine or more authentic practice. The strong man is already bound. The Stronger One has already won. Stop striving and start receiving the victory that’s already been accomplished.

“It is finished.” (John 19:30)

Stop acting as if it isn’t. The work is done. The price is paid. The enemy is defeated. Stop living like a captive when you’ve been liberated. Stop playing the game when the board has been overturned.

LOOK

“And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” (John 12:32)

Look at Him. Not at the systems. Not at the puppet masters. Not at Babylon’s walls or your own constructions. Look at Jesus Christ, lifted up, drawing all people to Himself. The cross where the strong man was defeated. The empty tomb where death lost its power. The ascended King who is dividing the spoil.

“Looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.” (Hebrews 12:2)

Look to Him. The founder. The perfecter. The One who endured, who despised the shame, who is seated in victory. Stop looking at the board. Look at the One who overturned it.

LISTEN

“My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand.” (John 10:27-28)

Listen for His voice. Not the content flood. Not the spectacle preachers. Not the curated gospel. His voice. The voice that knows you. The voice that calls you by name. The voice that promises you will never perish, that no one will snatch you from His hand.

“Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.” (Revelation 3:20)

He’s knocking. Can you hear it? Beneath all the noise of the system, beneath the flood of content, beneath the embarrassment and the spectacle and the shaking. He’s at the door. He’s calling. Will you listen?

LIVE

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28)

Today, come to Him. Not to a system. Not to a movement. Not to a better position on a board that’s being overturned. To Him. Jesus Christ. The Stronger One. The One who bound the strong man and is dividing the spoil.

Let yourself be divided. Let yourself be separated from everything that held you. Let yourself be taken from the palace and brought into the Kingdom.

You were a pawn. You are a child.

You were goods. You are beloved.

You were a piece. You are a person.

The Stronger One has come. The strong man is bound. The walls are falling. The game is ending.

And you are free.

The strings are cut. The board is behind you. But freedom can feel like falling.

Tomorrow: The Unstrung Life — what happens when you actually step off the board.

Pulpit Puppet Masters and the Curated Gospel – Day 14