By Jennifer McPherson

The duality we face in the Church today is not the same duality faced in previous generations.
In earlier times, the tension was often between belief and unbelief, obedience and rebellion, faithfulness and compromise. But today, the conflict has shifted. The dominant duality of our time looks like this:
We want to be free from the chains and shackles of the religious system—while still maintaining the perks and benefits of that same system.
This is an impossible contradiction.
You cannot remain inside a prison and yet leave it at the same time.
Much of our conversation around strongholds focuses on the obvious negatives control, shame, fear-based obedience, suppression, limitation. What we talk about far less are the benefits we receive from the systems we claim to want to dismantle.
Because the truth is uncomfortable:
There are advantages within religious structures that many of us are unwilling to let go of.
I began to see this clearly in myself.
With one hand, I genuinely desired liberation for myself and for others from systems that distort the heart of God. But with the other hand, there were moments, seconds, even seasons where I still wanted to build a structure that granted me religious authority authority that did not flow from love, but from position.
And this is where the Spirit began to confront me.
If I must tell someone to listen to me,
If I must leverage authority to be heard,
Then they cannot truly hear the life or wisdom in what I am speaking.
And so I was forced to ask myself a question that is both sacred and terrifying:
Do I want them to hear me because I desire their freedom?
Or do I want them to hear me because I want to be seen as a spiritual authority?
This is not an easy question to sit with because it requires us to confront the sacred cows we benefit from.
If the system collapses, so do the advantages we gained within it.
That realization brought me back to the issue of duality.
I found myself wondering:
What would happen if the entire structure of religious hierarchy imploded tomorrow?
What would happen to the Church?
How many people who show up every Sunday would still show up?
How many would still pursue holiness when no one was watching?
How many would still choose what they believe is right if fear were removed?
How many would still choose Jesus simply because He is Jesus?
Not out of fear of eternal damnation.
Not out of fear of judgment, rejection, or loss of belonging.
But because He is their choice.
Here is the sobering truth:
If someone would not choose Christ for who He is—
If their loyalty disappears when fear is removed
Then they have not been made a disciple.
They have been made a church member.
A churchgoer.
Or a follower of a personality.
Disciples follow Christ.
Yes, disciples may follow leaders but only insofar as those leaders are pointing them to Christ, not replacing Him. We were never meant to live in constant dependence on other people to provide answers that the Spirit of God longs to reveal within us.
So what do we do about the duality?
How do we escape the contradiction of wanting freedom while still clinging to control?
I believe the answer is simple but costly.
We lay down the pursuit of being known.
We lay down the demand to be heard.
We lay down the need to be deferred to, agreed with, or followed.
And instead, we lean fully into the inward reality of our union with Christ.
Not performing authority but living from intimacy.
Not demanding allegiance but embodying love.
When our words come from union rather than position, duality collapses.
And what remains is not a system but a people who have chosen Jesus for Jesus Himself.