If there are scepters in God’s invisible kingdom, they are not grasped in clenched fists but joyfully surrendered to the true king. If there are crowns in God’s invisible kingdom, they are worn only so they can be removed to be thrown at his feet.
My travels have led me through many castles in many kingdoms, my journey through many palaces in many places. I have seen the grandest edifices ever designed by the mind of men to display the value, the worth, the grandeur of their inhabitants. I have seen throne rooms devised to dazzle the eyes and overwhelm the senses. I have seen scepters and crowns carefully composed to symbolize the power, the authority, and the majesty of pontiffs and potentates alike.
In many of these castles and palaces I have paused to observe thrones—thrones overlaid with gold, thrones adorned with precious stones, thrones that are set on great platforms so the one seated upon them is in a place of prominence, a place of preeminence, a place that is elevated above all others. These thrones tower high above to symbolize the unique power, the unique might, the unique worth of the ones seated upon them. The steps to the thrones of monarchs invariably lead up, not down.
This is, after all, a world oriented toward the strong, toward the wealthy, toward the powerful. It is a world that rewards those who strain to get ahead, those who are willing to tread others underfoot, those who elevate themselves at the cost of friends and foe alike. It is a world where men battle for power, where men vie for money, where men will stop at nothing until they have not just enough to satisfy their needs, but to have excess, to have abundance, to have more than anyone else.