The Great Discipleship Divide:

In the final charge to His followers, Jesus left no room for ambiguity: “Go and make disciples of all nations” (Matthew 28:19).

G1484 ἔθνος

Ethnos (eth'-nos) n., 
1. a race (as of the same habit), i.e. a tribe, 
2. (specially) a foreign (non-Jewish) one, Gentiles, 
3. (usually, by implication) pagan,

KJV: Gentile, heathen, nation, people , 

This wasn’t a gentle suggestion or a passive encouragement—it was a command, rooted in the authority of the risen King, issued to men and women who had walked with Him, seen His power, and been transformed by His words. Yet as we examine the Church today, we find a stark disconnect between Christ’s commission and the Church’s current expression. While believers are often well-trained within the safe confines of their churches, they are rarely deployed to advance the Kingdom. The result is a generation of Christians packed with potential but paralyzed by passivity, equipped for battle but left standing at the gates of the barracks, never truly engaging in the spiritual war they were meant to fight.

This is not a new problem. It’s a systemic issue rooted in the very heart of modern Christianity—a Church that has become more comfortable maintaining itself than expanding the Kingdom. The great divide isn’t about whether discipleship happens; it’s about whether it leads to deployment. This article explores the heart of that disconnect. It’s about more than discipleship; it’s about the dangerous doctrines, institutional mindsets, and spiritual stagnation that have left the Church powerful in potential but paralyzed in practice. From the obsession with keeping Christ nailed to the cross to the escapist theology of pre-tribulation rapture, the Church has been lulled into a false sense of security, focusing on survival rather than victory, maintenance rather than mission, and comfort rather than confrontation.

The Cross Was the Door, Not the Destination

At the center of Christian faith stands the cross. It is the symbol of ultimate sacrifice, the place where love met justice, and where the Son of God bore the weight of the world’s sin. The cross was the battlefield where Jesus declared, “It is finished” (John 19:30), signaling the defeat of sin, death, and the powers of darkness. But somewhere along the journey of Church history, the Church became fixated on the suffering Christ, forgetting the risen, reigning King.

Consider the imagery that dominates many traditional churches, especially within Catholicism: crucifixes that perpetually display Jesus still nailed to the cross. While intended to remind believers of His sacrifice, this constant portrayal inadvertently sends a message that Christ is still suffering, that the work of redemption is somehow ongoing. It keeps the Church emotionally tethered to the moment of death, rather than living in the reality of the resurrection and ascension.

But the New Testament is clear: Jesus is no longer on the cross. Paul writes in Romans 6:9, “We know that Christ, being raised from the dead, will never die again; death no longer has dominion over him.” The cross was the cost, the empty tomb was the receipt, and the throne is the current reality. When the Church continually emphasizes the crucifixion without celebrating the resurrection and ascension, it fosters a defeatist mindset—one that focuses on sin, suffering, and survival, rather than authority, victory, and dominion.

The early Church didn’t just preach Christ crucified; they preached Christ resurrected and reigning. Peter’s first sermon at Pentecost declared, “God has raised this Jesus to life, and we are all witnesses of it. Exalted to the right hand of God…” (Acts 2:32-33). The message wasn’t just about the cross—it was about the Kingdom. The Church’s identity is not rooted in perpetual mourning at the foot of the cross but in the reality that we serve a risen King who has already conquered.

The Danger of Defeatism in the Church

Defeatism is not always obvious. It masquerades as humility, piety, or reverence, but beneath the surface, it’s a subtle agreement with powerlessness. It whispers lies that sound spiritual but undermine the very Gospel we claim to believe:

• “The world is getting worse; there’s nothing we can do.”

• “We’re just sinners saved by grace, struggling until Jesus returns.”

• “Our job is to suffer well, not to overcome.”

This mindset stands in direct contradiction to the words of Scripture. Paul boldly declares in 1 Corinthians 15:57, “But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” Victory isn’t something we hope for—it’s something we’ve already been given. Romans 8:37 reinforces this truth: “No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.” The language of the New Testament is filled with the language of triumph, not defeat. Believers are called overcomers, not survivors.

Defeatism reduces the Church to a spiritual bunker, hiding from the big, bad world, waiting for Jesus to come rescue us. But that’s not the narrative of Scripture. Jesus didn’t tell His disciples to hide. He said, “Occupy until I come” (Luke 19:13, KJV). The word “occupy” is a military term, implying holding ground, advancing territory, and establishing authority. The Church was never meant to retreat; it was designed to advance.

False Doctrines: The Pre-Tribulation Problem

One of the most pervasive doctrines contributing to the Church’s defeatist attitude is the pre-tribulation rapture theory. This belief suggests that before the world faces its darkest hours, believers will be “raptured” away to heaven, escaping the trials of the end times. Then, after a period of tribulation, they’ll return in some spiritual form to battle darkness alongside Christ. While it may provide comfort to some, this theology is not just a harmless eschatological view—it’s a false set of rules of engagement for spiritual warfare.

This belief fosters a passive, escapist mindset that leaves the Church unprepared for the very battles it was created to fight. Instead of training believers to stand firm in the day of evil (Ephesians 6:13), it conditions them to expect evacuation. It teaches Christians to focus on survival rather than spiritual conquest, to wait for rescue instead of preparing for reign.

But Jesus never promised escape.

He promised overcoming power.

In John 16:33, He says, “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” Notice that He doesn’t say, “You will escape trouble,” but rather, “You will have trouble—but I’ve already overcome it.” Revelation 12:11 echoes this victory: “They triumphed over him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony; they did not love their lives so much as to shrink from death.” The overcomers in Revelation weren’t raptured out—they faced the darkness head-on and triumphed.

The pre-tribulation rapture theory has subtly undermined the Church’s readiness for spiritual warfare. It creates Christians who are:

• Passive: “Why engage in cultural or spiritual battles if we’re leaving soon?”

• Unprepared: “Why develop endurance if we’ll be rescued before things get bad?”

• Disconnected: “Why invest in transforming nations if they’re destined for judgment anyway?”

This theology breeds complacency when we are called to conquer. It’s not just bad eschatology—it’s bad discipleship.

The Military Analogy: Training Without Deployment

Imagine the U.S. military spending years training elite warriors—SEALs, Green Berets, special forces—but instead of deploying them, they keep them confined within training facilities. These soldiers know how to fight, strategize, and win battles, but they never engage the enemy. The result? The world outside burns under the weight of tyranny, and the very warriors trained to stop it remain inactive.

This is exactly what’s happening in the Church.

• Believers are trained to pray, prophesy, and engage in spiritual warfare, but they’re rarely sent out.

• Churches have become spiritual academies instead of Kingdom command centers.

• The Church celebrates knowledge over action, theology over mission, and comfort over confrontation.

But discipleship was never meant to be a classroom exercise.

It’s a call to active deployment.

In Acts 1:8, Jesus didn’t say, “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you, so you can feel spiritually fulfilled in your small groups.” He said, “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses… to the ends of the earth.” Power was always meant for purpose. Training was always meant for mission.

From Discipleship to Deployment: The Example of Justin and Wendy

Consider the journey of Justin and Wendy. They entered the Church eager to learn, hungry for truth, and passionate about God’s call on their lives. The Church provided valuable training—they learned how to hear God’s voice, operate in prophetic gifts, and understand spiritual warfare. But then, like so many others with a genuine Kingdom mandate, they hit a wall.

The Church had taught them how to fight. So they choose to spend their Sundays doing their "Under The Oak Tree" Podcast instead of attending—not out of rebellion, but out of obedience to a higher command.

Today, through platforms like New Wine (this site) & Under The Oak Tree, they reach thousands every week. They didn’t just receive knowledge; they activated it. They didn’t just sit under teaching; they became teachers, leaders, and movement-makers.

Their story isn’t unique because they left the Church.

It’s powerful because they were willing to go when God said, “Go.”

They are not anomalies. They are the blueprint.

The Kingdom Was Never Meant to Retreat

The early Church understood this. They didn’t just gather for fellowship and teaching—they were a mobilized force. When persecution scattered them, the Gospel didn’t shrink. It exploded across the known world. The Book of Acts isn’t a story of survival; it’s a story of advancement, boldness, and Kingdom conquest.

The Church was never meant to be a bunker waiting for extraction.

It was designed to be a battering ram against the gates of hell.

Jesus said in Matthew 16:18, “I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” Gates are not offensive weapons. They are defensive structures. We’re not supposed to be on defense. The enemy is.

 

The Solution: Reclaiming the Gospel of the Kingdom

 

So, how do we shift from defeatism to victory? From passive training to active deployment?

1. Preach the Full Gospel: Not just the cross, but the resurrection and the reign of Christ. Not just salvation from sin, but salvation for purpose.

2. Destroy Escapist Theology: Stop teaching believers to wait for rescue. Start equipping them to rule and reign with Christ now (Revelation 5:10).

3. Deploy, Don’t Just Disciple: Every disciple is a potential leader, missionary, prophet, or cultural reformer. Train to release, not to retain.

4. Prepare for Battle: Spiritual warfare isn’t coming—it’s here. Equip the Church to engage with boldness, authority, and the expectation of victory, not survival.

 

Final Thought: The King Is Not on the Cross—And Neither Are We

 

Jesus is not on the cross.

He’s not in the tomb.

He’s on the throne.

 

And His Church is not a defeated, fearful group waiting to be raptured out of responsibility.

We are the ecclesia—the governing body of Christ on earth.

We are the ambassadors of His Kingdom, called to transform nations, confront darkness, and establish His rule in every sphere of society.

 

The cross was necessary, but it’s not where the story ends.

The resurrection was the victory, but it’s not where the mission stops.

The ascension was the coronation, but it’s not where the Kingdom rests.

 

The mission is still unfolding—and we are the generation called to carry it forward.

Not as victims.

Not as escapees.

But as victorious sons and daughters of the King.