To the ones who bristle at easy answers, who feel allergic to shallow church culture, who’ve been told they’re “too much” or “too noisy.” This is for you.
You were made to burn. Not with rage, but with holy fire. That fire is the very breath of the Holy Spirit (Acts 2:3–4). The Church may have felt like a place that couldn’t hold your questions, your edge, your refusal to play nice with broken systems. But God isn’t afraid of your fire. He’s the One who lit it, and the Holy Spirit is the One who fans it into flame (2 Timothy 1:6–7).
Elijah stood alone on Mount Carmel, confronting a nation in compromise. The Spirit empowered him and rushed upon him like a mighty wind (1 Kings 18:46). Deborah rose up as a judge and prophetess, commanding Barak to battle with the words, “Has not the Lord gone ahead of you?” The Spirit filled her and spoke through her songs of victory (Judges 4–5). Esther risked death by approaching the king uninvited, declaring “If I perish, I perish.” The same Spirit led her and turned fasting into national deliverance (Esther 4:16; 7:3–6). Jeremiah wept and shouted when others stayed silent. His bones burned because “His word is in my heart like a fire… I am weary of holding it in” (Jeremiah 20:9). Jesus flipped tables when worship was corrupted. He was full of the Holy Spirit without measure (John 3:34). Paul rebuked Peter when the gospel was at stake. He spoke “by the power of the Spirit of God” (Romans 15:19). Scripture is full of anointed rebels. They are sanctified, sent, and supernaturally fueled by the Holy Spirit.
To the ones inside the Church who’ve mistaken silence for holiness. This is for you too.
Not all rebellion is sin. Some of it is obedience. Some of it is the Holy Spirit Himself groaning against injustice, against false teaching, against the slow drift toward comfort and compromise (Romans 8:26). If you’ve felt the nudge to speak, to stand, to resist, but buried it under fear or decorum, that nudge is probably the Spirit refusing to be quenched (1 Thessalonians 5:19). God may be calling you out of hiding.
This isn’t a call to chaos. It’s a call to clarity. Fight when the Spirit says fight. Speak when the Spirit says speak. Burn with love, not pride. Resist not for ego, but for truth.
Render what belongs to God. Resist what defies Him. Do not grieve the Holy Spirit by silencing the very fire He placed in you (Ephesians 4:30).
Once again the Church needs prophets. Not just pastors and planners, but those who carry the fire and fidelity of the Holy Spirit. If you’ve been waiting for permission, this is it. If you’ve been told you don’t belong, hear this: the Body needs its elbows and its fists, not just its hands folded in prayer. The Spirit didn’t pour out on “sons only.” He thundered, “Your sons AND daughters will prophesy” (Joel 2:28–29; Acts 2:17–18).
I’ve always had a rebel’s heart. Tell me to have a good day, and something in me wants to say, “Don’t tell me what to do.” That instinct to push back, to question, to resist. It used to be aimless. I fought everything as a carnal man. But when I stopped rebelling against God, the Holy Spirit didn’t erase that fire. He baptized me in it (Matthew 3:11).
Now I fight bad doctrine. I challenge shallow theology. I hold unpopular standards not because I’m contrary, but because I’ve learned to hear the Spirit’s roar in my bones when God says, “This is worth resisting.” For example, when influential voices like Doug Wilson twist Scripture to silence women’s votes under the banner of “biblical patriarchy,” I don’t stay quiet. The Spirit won’t let me. I light the match and burn it down. Read the full takedown here: “Voting Isn’t a Sin: Silencing Women Is”. The trick isn’t losing the fight that is in us. It’s learning when to wield it. Maturity means knowing the difference between a personal irritation and a divine assignment straight from the Holy Spirit.
Jesus flipped tables, but He also walked away from provocations. The Spirit led Him into the wilderness and out again (Luke 4:1). Paul confronted Peter publicly, but submitted to suffering quietly. The Spirit of power, love, and self-discipline strengthened him (2 Timothy 1:7). The Spirit doesn’t silence rebels. He sanctifies them, empowers them, and sets their tongues on fire (Acts 2:3–4).
Some of us weren’t built to blend in. We bristle at shallow pleasantries, push back against easy answers, and feel the fire rise when truth is twisted. That instinct isn’t a flaw. The Spirit doesn’t silence every rebel; He sanctifies some of them, empowers
them, and sets their tongues on fire for His cause.
Elijah didn’t ask to be a prophet. He was called to confront kings, dismantle idols, and stand alone on Mount Carmel while the crowd bowed to Baal. Deborah didn’t wait for a man to lead. She took the mantle and shattered Jabin’s oppression. Esther didn’t wait for permission. She seized the moment and hanged evil on its own gallows.
But Elijah didn’t fight everything. He fought what the Spirit told him to fight. He listened before he burned. He waited in caves, wept under trees, and heard God not in the earthquake or fire, but in the whisper of the Holy Spirit (1 Kings 19:12).
That’s the journey of the sanctified rebel. The one who used to rage at everything now waits for the Spirit’s signal. Tongues of fire resting, wind rushing, power falling (Acts 2:2–4). The one who still flips tables, but only when the Spirit says, “Now.” The one who knows that zeal without the Spirit is just noise, but zeal filled with the Holy Spirit? That’s revival.
Rise up, daughters and sons. The Holy Spirit, the forgotten God, is alive and well in the minds and hearts of those who receive the present-day outpouring of His holy fire. He is still looking for Deborahs who will judge justly, Esthers who will speak boldly, Elijahs who will call down fire, and Pauls who will contend for the faith. Your fire isn’t too much. It’s exactly what the Spirit is fanning into a blaze that will shake nations.
Do not quench the Spirit (1 Thessalonians 5:19). Be filled with the Spirit (Ephesians 5:18).
Burn.
Zeal—qanna’ in Hebrew, zēlos in Greek. It isn’t polite enthusiasm. It’s white-hot jealousy for God’s honor. The word behind “jealous” in Exodus 20:5 (“I, the Lord your God, am a jealous God”) is the same root as Elijah’s boast on Carmel: “I have been very zealous [qanno] for the Lord God Almighty” (1 Kings 19:10, 14). It’s the fire that makes God pursue His covenant people like a husband chasing an unfaithful bride (James 4:5—“The Spirit He caused to live in us envies intensely”). In the New Testament, zēlos is the word Jesus quotes when He cleanses the temple: “Zeal for your house will consume me” (John 2:17; Psalm 69:9). Paul uses it for his former life persecuting the church (misplaced zeal, Philippians 3:6) and then redirects it: “It is fine to be zealous [zēloō], provided the purpose is good” (Galatians 4:18). Zeal isn’t optional niceness. It’s divine passion that refuses to share space with idols.
Sanctified rebellion is holy zeal. It’s Spirit-fueled sass that says “Hell no” to anything that defiles God’s name, His people, or His truth. My friend Joe calls it “sanctified sass,” and he’s not wrong. It’s the snark in Elijah mocking Baal’s prophets (“Shout louder! Maybe he’s deep in thought, or busy, or traveling. Maybe he’s asleep and needs waking!” 1 Kings 18:27). It’s Jesus calling Pharisees “whitewashed tombs” and “brood of vipers” (Matthew 23). It’s Paul wishing the circumcision party would emasculate themselves (Galatians 5:12). This isn’t fleshly attitude. It’s the Holy Spirit refusing to play nice with compromise. Zeal without sanctification is terrorism.
However Zeal sanctified by the Spirit? It’s the revolution that topples idols, liberates captives, and sets the church ablaze. If your sass makes hell nervous and heaven smile, you’re doing it right. Burn on, rebels. The Spirit’s got the match.
The match is struck. The blaze is spreading.
If you’re burning too—get in the fight.
Subscribe. No cost. No cowardice. Just fire.
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