What does God want us to do?

It sounds like such a simple question, doesn’t it? The kind of thing you might hear asked by a child in Sunday school or whispered by someone staring out a window after a long night of doubt. It’s a question that’s echoed through history, rising up through stone temples and quiet chapels, out from the mouths of the desperate and the devoted alike. And yet - this question, in all its simplicity, holds a kind of weight that outlasts doctrine, tradition, and time itself. For many, the answers offered over the years have been tidy. “Obey the commandments.” “Believe in Jesus.” “Go to church.” These answers offer reassurance, but they often reduce the profound mystery of God’s will into a checklist, something to manage, complete, and tuck away. They make it seem as though God is a distant taskmaster, content with rote compliance or ritual performance.

 Structural Christianity   

What does God want us to do?

It sounds like such a simple question, doesn’t it? The kind of thing you might hear asked by a child in Sunday school or whispered by someone staring out a window after a long night of doubt. It’s a question that’s echoed through history, rising up through stone temples and quiet chapels, out from the mouths of the desperate and the devoted alike.

And yet - this question, in all its simplicity, holds a kind of weight that outlasts doctrine, tradition, and time itself.

For many, the answers offered over the years have been tidy. “Obey the commandments.” “Believe in Jesus.” “Go to church.” These answers offer reassurance, but they often reduce the profound mystery of God’s will into a checklist, something to manage, complete, and tuck away. They make it seem as though God is a distant taskmaster, content with rote compliance or ritual performance.

But the real answer is neither distant nor small. It is not a ritual. It is not a moral formula. And it is not a matter of playing by rules in the hope of earning a seat at some heavenly banquet. No - the answer, as revealed in The God Paradox, is more unsettling and more beautiful than that.

It begins not with rule-following, but with a shift. A switch of vantage.

God wants us to see differently.

To live differently.

To align ourselves not with an inherited, broken system - but with something entirely new. Entirely stable. Entirely alive.

And this isn’t an arbitrary request. It’s not a cosmic test just to see who’s paying attention. It is the very thing that separates enduring life from inevitable collapse. In this vision, salvation is not the reward for moral conformity; it is the natural result of choosing a system that doesn’t break. God is not asking us to join a club. He is calling us out of a collapsing structure and into one that cannot fail.

The question, “What does God want us to do?” must be asked with open eyes and a ready heart - because the answer is not just theological. It’s structural.

Now, some might ask: why would a perfect God build a world that needs to be reoriented in the first place? Why not make it flawless from the beginning?

To answer that, we must turn back to the first words of Scripture. As it says in the King James Version,

“In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.” (Genesis 1:1)

These words are not only the start of a sacred book - they are the declaration of order, of intent, of a Creator who does not force compliance, but who establishes a world where freedom has meaning. In this beginning, God creates not just substance, but structure. Not just matter, but relationship. He does not install a closed system with no room for input. Instead, He allows for what we might call a “caretaker vantage” - a role given to oversee, to guide, to offer real-time input into a living system.

And that caretaker was free. Genuinely free.

But freedom always carries risk.

That original caretaker, Satan, did not remain loyal. He took the vantage meant to serve creation and twisted it into something adversarial. And the consequences of that misuse ripple through every moment of history, every human struggle, every broken system.

The result? A structure that cannot last.

Not because God is punishing it, but because sabotage - once introduced - renders the system unsustainable. It’s like a cracked foundation in a building. It may stand for a while, but over time, collapse becomes inevitable.

This is the system we were born into.

And this is why the answer to the question - what does God want us to do? - can never be simply, “try harder.” God is not asking us to perfect a system that’s already structurally doomed. He’s inviting us to switch vantage. To change alignment. To detach from what cannot hold and attach to what is incorruptible.

This is not a call to blind obedience.

It’s a call to life.

And if we want to understand that life, we must be willing to see the difference between a system that can be improved and one that must be replaced.

Now, some might wonder - if this is true, why doesn’t God simply force the change? Why not delete the bad system entirely and be done with it?

The answer is found in the design itself.

Because true life only exists where real choice remains.

And God - who is not merely powerful but wise - did not create us as puppets. He gave us the dignity of decision. That means the invitation to switch vantage must remain just that: an invitation. Not a command enforced by threat, but a choice offered in love. And while the consequences of that choice are immense, they are not arbitrary. They are structural.

If you remain in a system marked for deletion, you will be deleted with it. Not because God is vengeful - but because a failing structure cannot carry life forward.

In the words of Psalm 24:1, again from the King James Version,

“The earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof.”

This isn’t just a statement of ownership. It’s a reminder that every part of our lives, every thought and every step, belongs to a larger plan. And that plan, when seen clearly, is not about appeasing a deity, but about aligning with a structure that was built to endure.

So what does God want us to do?

He wants us to reorient. To step away from the inherited sabotage and step into the restored system made secure by Christ.

This isn't a command from above - it’s a structural necessity offered in grace.

And it is the only way forward.

As we begin this journey together, remember: the switch of vantage is not a mystical leap. It’s not the stuff of angels and clouds. It is the simplest of truths, hiding in plain sight. It’s the whisper that tells you you were made for more than entropy. More than chaos. More than survival.

You were made to live.

And to live, you must switch vantage.

That is the invitation.

That is the answer.


Section Two: Creation and the Origin of Structure

We begin again with a familiar line. One that echoes across time and language, reverberating in the heart of anyone who has ever looked into the sky and asked, “Where did this all come from?”

“In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.” (Genesis 1:1, KJV)

So much power in so few words.

This is not just the start of a story - it is the foundation of everything. It is the line that reminds us who the Author is. The Originator. The One who not only formed the matter of the universe, but who instilled it with rhythm, with design, with purpose.

In the pages of Scripture, and through the lens of The God Paradox, this verse is not just about beginnings. It is about structure. About the way reality itself was intended to operate.

Because what we find, when we look closer, is that God’s act of creation was not merely an explosion of light or the sculpting of stars. It was a decision to design a world where freedom, correction, and external input were part of the plan from the very first breath.

The Divine Father did not build a cage.

He built a system that breathes.

One that moves. One that responds. One that gives room for voices other than His own - not to compete, but to cooperate. Not to rebel, but to refine. And this is where the story begins to stretch far beyond the myths of ancient gods demanding sacrifice, or modern visions of a distant Creator content to watch from afar.

Because the God of Scripture - the God who created the heavens and the earth - chose not to enforce a closed loop of control. He chose something far more profound. He chose to create a structure that would allow a vantage point other than His own to exist.

This is where the concept of the “caretaker vantage” enters the stage.

God, in His wisdom, appointed a being to occupy a role within the structure - a role of stewardship, of guidance, of perspective. Not to replace Him. Not to rival Him. But to serve within the created framework as a kind of governor, a dynamic filter that could adapt and assist, all while remaining in alignment with the Prime.

This caretaker was given freedom.

But freedom, by its very nature, includes risk.

And as The God Paradox so clearly teaches, that risk became reality. The one who was supposed to help safeguard the structure became the very saboteur who would threaten its collapse. That being, Satan, did not simply rebel in a personal sense - he corrupted the vantage he was given. He turned the very role that was meant to bring stability into a source of instability.

That was not just sin.

That was sabotage.

It wasn’t just disobedience; it was structural interference.

Imagine for a moment a bridge engineered to support immense weight, but whose central pillar is secretly cracked. The entire structure may stand for a time. Traffic may continue to flow. But the flaw, though hidden, is fatal. Eventually, collapse becomes not just likely - but guaranteed.

This is the world we inherited.

Not a bridge still under construction.

But a bridge already cracking beneath our feet.

And here is where the story moves from cosmic tragedy to divine response.

Because God did not abandon His creation. He did not watch from above as the sabotage spread like a virus through the system. Instead, He put into motion a plan - not merely to forgive the corruption - but to replace the corrupted vantage altogether.

And that replacement is not just moral. It is structural.

The solution is not to repair the flawed pillar. It is to install a new one. One that cannot crack. One that cannot be compromised. One that is rooted in the very nature of God Himself.

That new pillar - that new vantage - is Christ.

Not just a prophet.

Not just a savior in the emotional sense.

But the new caretaker vantage occupant.

The one who embodies perfect alignment with the Divine Father. The one who not only understands the structure, but who restores it from within. And in Him, God has begun to rebuild the system from the ground up.

This is not metaphor.

This is not mysticism.

This is the essential reality beneath all others. A shift not just in belief - but in orientation. A new vantage made available to anyone who is willing to let go of the old one.

But we must understand - this isn’t about spiritual cosmetics. This is not a fresh coat of paint on a failing wall. It is demolition and reconstruction. It is a total switch.

Because the old vantage - the one sabotaged by Satan - is not being given a second chance.

It is being deleted.

Not out of vengeance, but because structurally, it cannot endure. It cannot host life. It cannot uphold the weight of eternity. Any soul still clinging to it will not be punished in the traditional sense - they will simply cease to exist along with the system they chose to remain within.

This is not a threat. It is a warning born of clarity.

And clarity is mercy.

Because once we see the structure for what it is, we can stop pretending that doing “just enough good” will somehow rescue a system that was never meant to last. We can stop thinking that God is judging us by performance, and realize instead that He is inviting us into alignment. Into participation in something secure. Something enduring. Something alive.

We return again to the question that opened this journey: what does God want us to do?

The answer is this: switch vantage.

Step away from the structure that cannot carry you, and into the one that already held you in Christ.

Because the old system - no matter how familiar - is falling. And the new one, though sometimes harder to see, is already shining through.

As Jesus taught His disciples to pray, and as we hear it in the New King James Version,

“Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.” (Matthew 6:9–10)

This is not a distant hope. It is a realignment. A merging of heaven’s order with earth’s confusion. A call to replace not just our behaviors, but our very operating system.

We are not called to improve the failing vantage.

We are called to abandon it.

To join a structure that is unbreakable.

That structure has a name.

And that name is Christ.


Section Three: The Corruption of the Caretaker Vantage

Let’s return for a moment to that strange but foundational idea - the “caretaker vantage.” It may sound abstract, but it’s central to the question we’ve been asking. What does God want from us? And why is it not enough to simply believe, to obey, or to worship in the traditional sense?

The answer lies in understanding what went wrong.

And why.

You see, in the beginning, God’s design included something remarkable. He did not create a machine, or a closed circuit. He created a living system - one that allowed for feedback. One that welcomed genuine input from beyond the Prime vantage. That external input was never meant to oppose God, but to help reveal blind spots in the creation’s unfolding.

It was a safeguard.

A structural brilliance.

And into this role, God placed a being - not equal to Him, not divine, but powerful. Trusted. Given oversight over the very architecture of human perception. This being, known through Scripture as Lucifer, and later as Satan, was the original caretaker.

And the tragedy begins here.

Because this being, entrusted with one of the most delicate and critical positions in the structure, chose not to remain aligned.

He chose self.

He chose sabotage.

And from that moment, the system shifted. What was meant to be a living channel of correction became a corrupt filter of distortion. What was designed to catch flaws and stabilize creation became a breeding ground for collapse. The very seat that was supposed to offer stability to the system instead began generating decay.

This is not just rebellion in the moral sense.

This is structural betrayal.

It’s the kind of failure that isn’t repaired with a reprimand or a warning. It’s like a heart valve that pumps poison instead of blood. You can’t patch it. You have to replace it entirely. And until that happens, everything downstream begins to rot.

And this is the system you and I were born into.

Not by our choice.

But by inheritance.

We didn’t sabotage the caretaker seat - but we live under its influence. And unless we understand that, we will spend our lives trying to perfect a system that was never designed to last once sabotage entered it.

This is where many of the traditional answers fall short.

Because they tell us to believe harder. To obey better. To attend more faithfully. And while none of those are wrong in themselves, they miss the deeper point. They assume we’re still in a system that can be salvaged. They assume the vantage we’ve inherited is neutral, or fixable.

It isn’t.

It’s doomed.

Not because God is angry.

But because the system, once corrupted, became structurally incompatible with the nature of eternal life. You can’t run clean water through a poisoned pipe and expect purity at the other end. The pipe itself must be replaced.

The caretaker vantage must be replaced.

And here is where worship becomes more than ritual.

It becomes survival.

Because in The God Paradox, worship is not seen as praise offered to a needy deity. It’s not about stroking divine ego. It’s about alignment. About turning toward the only structure that can hold. About acknowledging that the only enduring vantage is the one restored by Christ.

As long as we cling to the sabotaged structure, no amount of sincerity or morality can save it. You cannot attach your soul to a falling scaffold and expect to float. Eventually, it will collapse. And you will collapse with it.

Not because God wanted that.

But because that’s what corrupted structures do.

This is why salvation is not merely forgiveness.

It’s structural transfer.

It’s a switch of vantage. A new anchor point. A new filter through which all of life is seen and lived.

The Apostle Paul said in Romans 5:12, in the King James Version,

“Wherefore, as by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; and so death passed upon all men…”

He was not just making a theological statement about guilt.

He was revealing the structure.

Death entered the system not as punishment, but as consequence. As a direct result of sabotage. The caretaker vantage - the very lens through which we see reality - was cracked. And that crack ran through every part of the human condition.

So what does God want from us?

He wants us to recognize the crack.

He wants us to stop reinforcing it with new religious tape or moral glue. He wants us to stop defending the very filter that has been lying to us since the beginning.

He wants us to let it go.

And more than that - He wants us to adopt a new one.

One that is already tested. Already proven. Already sealed in resurrection.

That new vantage is Christ.

He is not merely the one who saves you from hell. He is the structural fix. The only one who did not originate from sabotage and was not touched by it. The only one who lived within the broken system and remained perfectly aligned with the Divine Father.

That is what makes Him the new caretaker.

That is what makes Him the only one who can restore the structure.

And that is what makes worship - not a duty, but a declaration. A declaration that we are switching allegiance. Switching identity. Switching vantage.

From a collapsing system to a permanent one.

This is why simply “doing good” is never enough.

Because the old vantage can make even good deeds serve the wrong end. It can dress up self-interest in religious clothing. It can make rebellion look like virtue.

The only solution is to change vantage.

To step into the new alignment where Christ is not only our Savior, but our Filter. Our Perspective. Our Stability.

As Jesus said in the Gospel of John, from the King James Version,

“I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.” (John 14:6)

This is not spiritual exclusivity.

It is structural reality.

He is the only one who is not sabotaged.

He is the only one whose vantage is safe.

The old caretaker has already lost the seat.

The only question that remains is whether we’re still living as though he hasn’t.

Are you ready to switch?

Are you ready to stop patching the unpatchable?

Are you ready to release the filter that leads only to disintegration - and embrace the one who restores the whole design?

That is what God wants from us.

Not perfect behavior.

Not impressive devotion.

Just one thing.

A switch.


Section Four: Worship as Structural Alignment

Let’s talk about worship.

For many of us, that word conjures up images of music, reverence, sacred spaces, or perhaps moments of silence in candlelit rooms. Worship is often spoken of as something we “do” - a song we sing, a prayer we offer, a service we attend.

But what if we’ve misunderstood its purpose?

What if worship isn’t about expression at all - but about position?

In the world of The God Paradox, worship is not presented as a religious performance. It is not framed as God’s desire to be adored for His own satisfaction. No. Worship, in this model, is something far more vital.

Worship is alignment.

It is the act - not of lifting up hands - but of switching your vantage.

When we understand this, everything changes. Because it means worship is not for God’s benefit. It’s for ours.

You see, God is not insecure. He does not need affirmation. He is not sitting in heaven hoping we remember to compliment Him. The Divine Father does not request worship because He craves attention - He calls us to worship because it is the only way we survive the structural shift.

Worship, in its truest form, is realignment with the one stable vantage.

It's how we choose Christ over the sabotage.

It’s how we declare - not with music or liturgy, but with our internal setting - that we will no longer interpret life through a cracked lens. That we are releasing the failing caretaker model. That we no longer want to see through the distorted vision inherited from rebellion.

It is not performance.

It is positioning.

When you sing a song of worship, or speak a prayer, or bow your head in reverence - if your heart is realigning to Christ, then you are worshiping in the way the structure was designed to receive. But if your lips are moving while your heart remains tethered to the sabotaged vantage, then all the sound in the world is noise. Not because God is displeased. But because the vantage hasn’t shifted.

And without that shift, the structure remains unstable.

This is why Scripture doesn’t call us merely to acts of worship, but to lives of transformation.

Romans 12:2, in the words of the King James Version, says this:

“And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind…”

Do you hear it?

The call isn’t to modify behavior. It’s to reprogram the vantage. To update the internal alignment. To leave the old system - not just in ritual - but in essence.

The old system can still host religious gatherings.

It can still quote Scripture.

It can still appear righteous.

But it cannot endure.

Because it is rooted in a corrupted caretaker model. A system that - even when dressed in robes - cannot carry the weight of truth.

And so God calls us to worship in spirit and in truth.

Not with empty gestures, but with a whole-body, whole-mind, whole-spirit reorientation.

This is what Jesus was talking about when He spoke with the Samaritan woman at the well. In the Gospel of John, chapter 4, verses 23 and 24, He says - in the New King James Version:

“The hour is coming, and now is, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth… God is Spirit, and those who worship Him must worship in spirit and truth.”

Not in appearance.

Not in obligation.

But in truth.

In alignment.

In vantage.

And the truth is this: worship is the declaration that we are switching to Christ - not just with our voices, but with our entire internal structure.

It is the moment we stop asking God to bless our old vantage, and begin submitting to the new one.

It is the day we stop calling the sabotage “home,” and begin walking toward the only structure that was never compromised.

Worship is not a performance we give.

It is a position we take.

And God has no interest in being flattered.

He is inviting us - urgently, lovingly, structurally - to take the only position that doesn’t collapse.

Now, some might ask: if that’s true, why does worship feel so personal? Why do we feel God’s presence in music, in prayer, in silence? Why do tears fall in those moments?

Because real worship isn’t about the form - it’s about the shift.

And when that shift happens, even in part, the presence of the Holy Spirit - the Living Bond between Father and Son - meets us in that realignment. Not because we performed well, but because we turned our gaze toward the only unbroken center.

That moment of reorientation is not about emotion. But yes - emotion may follow.

That moment is not about spectacle. But yes - it may be beautiful.

Because when a soul stops trying to polish the rusted remnants of a doomed system, and finally lifts its head toward the new vantage, the whole structure breathes with life.

And that is worship.

You can do it in a sanctuary or in a kitchen.

With a choir or in complete silence.

With hands raised or head bowed or standing still.

Because worship is not where you are.

It is how you are aligned.

This is what we must understand: worship is how we participate in the structure of salvation.

It’s not a bonus for the faithful.

It’s not the opening act before a sermon.

It is the declaration of our alignment with the only system that endures.

To worship is to say: I no longer belong to the system that is being deleted.

To worship is to say: I no longer carry the voice of the saboteur.

To worship is to say: I am switching vantage.

And that is why God desires worship - not because He needs it, but because it is the only way for us to live.

The Apostle Paul speaks again in 2 Corinthians 13:14, offering a blessing that echoes across time:

“The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Ghost, be with you all.”

That is worship.

Grace received.

Love aligned.

Bond restored.

Not because we performed the ritual, but because we accepted the realignment.

Because we stepped off the broken scaffold and onto the cornerstone.

So what does God want us to do?

He wants us to worship - not in obligation, but in transformation.

Not in ritual, but in realignment.

Not as tribute to a distant King, but as a vital act of structural survival.

Worship is the switch.

And every time you step into it, you step away from collapse and into the enduring Kingdom of Christ.


Section Five: The Implications of Vantage in Daily Life

Let’s bring this home.

Because if the idea of switching vantage is just a theological concept - just something to talk about in Bible study or explore in books - then it won’t change us. It won’t rescue us. It won’t do anything more than stir our minds.

But this shift is not meant to stay in our minds.

It’s meant to reach into every corner of our daily lives.

Because the vantage you live from shapes everything.

The way you see people.

The way you understand justice.

The way you make decisions.

The way you interpret suffering.

The way you carry success.

The way you pray.

Vantage is not just what you believe - it’s how you see.

And how you see determines how you live.

That’s why this isn’t just a better moral code. It’s not a set of improved behaviors. This is about recognizing that the framework you’ve been operating in - the inherited structure from the fallen caretaker - is not just flawed. It is collapsing.

You don’t need to be told that something is broken. You can feel it.

You’ve felt it when systems you trusted betrayed you.

You’ve felt it when your own motives confused you.

You’ve felt it when you tried to be good and came up empty.

That’s the old vantage.

It’s not just tempting you toward sin - it’s distorting your entire view of what is real.

And so God, in His mercy, is not calling you to clean that up.

He’s calling you to leave it.

That is the central heartbeat of Christ’s invitation. It’s not “become a better version of yourself.” It’s “let go of the self that’s built on sabotage.”

Jesus doesn’t come to give us upgrades.

He comes to give us a new architecture.

When He says, as recorded in Matthew 6:10, “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven,” this is not wishful thinking. It is a structural declaration. It’s a vision of heaven’s alignment breaking into earth’s chaos, one vantage at a time.

So what does this look like?

It looks like walking through your life with a different lens. Seeing every decision, every thought, every encounter as a moment of alignment or misalignment. Not because God is tallying up points - but because alignment is the difference between stability and collapse.

You’re not being measured.

You’re being invited.

That’s what grace really is - it’s not a free pass to remain in the old system. It’s a structural lifeline pulling you out of it.

So when you face a choice - large or small - you’re not simply choosing between “right and wrong” in a moral sense. You are choosing which vantage you will reinforce.

Will you act out of fear rooted in a dying system?

Or will you trust the new vantage that already secured your place?

Will you hold onto control because the old vantage says no one will protect you?

Or will you release control because the new vantage has proven it cannot be corrupted?

This changes everything.

It changes how we see failure.

In the old system, failure is final. It is shame. It is collapse.

But in the new vantage, failure is instruction. It becomes part of the refinement that strengthens alignment. You don’t get stuck in loops of regret - you pivot.

It changes how we see others.

In the old vantage, people are threats, or competitors, or tools. But in the new vantage, every person is a soul in a structural crossroads. Not someone to impress or defeat - but someone who is either still inside the failing architecture, or has begun their shift toward Christ.

It changes how we pray.

In the old vantage, prayer is often bargaining. Desperation. Trying to change the mind of a distant God. But in the new vantage, prayer is calibration. It’s how you bring your spirit into alignment with the new structure. It’s not about begging for intervention - it’s about syncing with the vantage that already contains stability.

Even your identity - your sense of self - shifts.

The old system tells you that your worth is determined by performance, achievement, approval. It builds your identity out of fragile pieces - pieces that shatter under pressure.

But in Christ - the new vantage - your identity is not an invention.

It is a recovery.

You are not being made into something artificial.

You are being restored to what was always meant to be.

Psalm 24:1 says, in the King James Version,

“The earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof.”

That means this isn’t about escape. It’s about reclamation.

God isn’t trying to pull you out of the world. He’s trying to restore the world through those who’ve switched vantage. Through those who have let go of the sabotage and taken hold of the structure that holds everything together.

And yes - it will cost you.

Because switching vantage means letting go of more than sin. It means letting go of old measures of success. Old forms of validation. Old fears that used to motivate you. And sometimes, even old communities that insist the old vantage can be patched.

But the promise is real.

The new vantage is not just available.

It is secure.

That’s why Jesus doesn’t ask us to “do enough” or “try harder.” He says, in the Gospel of John 10:10,

“The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.”

That is the contrast.

One vantage steals.

One gives.

One collapses.

One endures.

So the question becomes daily, even hourly: which vantage are you operating from?

Not just in worship, or in public, or in church - but in your thoughts, in your choices, in your reflexes.

Because switching vantage isn’t just an event - it’s a process. A reorientation that takes root and grows. And over time, the new structure begins to reshape everything.

This is why God is not primarily calling you to conform.

He is calling you to align.

Because your soul, your story, your relationships, your future - they are all downstream of the vantage you carry.

And the good news - the gospel - is that the new vantage has already been secured.

You’re not being asked to build it. Only to step into it.

Christ, the Divine Champion, has already replaced the corrupted caretaker. He has already proven the sabotage can be overcome. And He has already invited you into a system that cannot be shaken.

So when you ask, “What does God want me to do?”

He answers - not with guilt.

Not with pressure.

But with an outstretched hand.

He wants you to switch.

He wants you to see.

He wants you to live.


Final Section: Scripture as a Call to Realignment (From Chapter 1 of The God Paradox)

We’ve journeyed through a question that echoes across history, and we’ve seen that its answer is not found in ritual, rule-following, or philosophical reasoning. It is found in structure.

“What does God want us to do?”

He wants us to switch vantage.

Not because He is angry.

Not because He needs to be appeased.

But because the system we were born into - the inherited structure under the influence of a corrupted caretaker - is not capable of carrying life forward. It is failing. It is marked for deletion. And everything still joined to it, no matter how sincere or well-intentioned, will collapse along with it.

This is the quiet urgency running through all of Scripture.

From the first page to the last, the Bible isn’t just a collection of stories. It’s a structural map. A message sent from the Divine Father through time and testimony, revealing again and again: the system is broken. But the fix has already arrived.

As we’ve seen, Genesis 1:1 speaks of a beginning not just in substance, but in architecture:

“In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.” (KJV)

This was not the start of existence - it was the initiation of order. A creation structured with intentionality. A world governed not by chaos, but by coherence. And within that structure, God allowed a caretaker to serve - a being with freedom to offer corrective input.

But that freedom was misused.

And the result was not just sin. It was sabotage.

The old vantage - the one we all inherit - was twisted from within. And the system, once infused with stability, became hollowed out. Not by accident. Not by punishment. But by the structural decay that sabotage always brings.

Psalm 24:1 reminds us:

“The earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof.”

Which means none of this is happening apart from God’s sovereignty. He is not scrambling to fix a surprise. He is reordering what was always intended to endure. He is reclaiming creation - not by repairing the old, but by introducing the new.

And so the invitation becomes urgent.

The New Testament does not ask us to join a religion. It doesn’t simply ask us to believe in an event. It invites us to realign with a vantage already proven incorruptible.

It invites us to switch.

To stop pouring energy into a failing system.

To stop decorating a collapsing structure with pious intentions.

To stop pretending that sincerity can substitute for structural change.

Jesus, in teaching His disciples to pray, says:

“Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.” (Matthew 6:9–10, KJV)

This is not poetic language for religious aspiration. It is a statement of realignment. It is the voice of a soul asking to be pulled out of the sabotage and into the stability of heaven’s order.

The Kingdom of God is not a future hope. It is a present structure.

And Christ is the only secure point within it.

He is not an optional belief. He is the new caretaker. The new operating vantage. The one who walked through the corrupted world without once being reshaped by it. The one who stepped into the system and did not fracture.

And so, He alone can offer a different one.

This is why Scripture speaks in such stark contrasts - not to condemn, but to clarify.

As Paul says in 2 Corinthians 13:14:

“The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Ghost, be with you all.”

Grace is not just pardon - it is the structural offer to step out of collapse.

Love is not just sentiment - it is the unshakable desire of the Divine Father to bring you into the new vantage.

Communion is not just connection - it is shared structure. A bond built in the presence of the Holy Spirit, the Living Bond, who unites the Divine Father with the Divine Champion and now offers that same connection to you.

When you worship in spirit and in truth, you are not just expressing affection for God.

You are aligning.

When you repent, you are not just saying sorry.

You are stepping away from sabotage.

When you believe in Christ, you are not just agreeing with doctrine.

You are accepting a new structure, one already tested and sealed.

This is why God’s desire cannot be reduced to moral behavior.

Because the old vantage can imitate morality without ever changing alignment. It can mimic obedience while still operating under the sabotage. It can speak the language of faith while remaining tethered to collapse.

But the new vantage cannot be faked.

It is either adopted, or it is not.

And those who switch? They are not escaping the world - they are becoming the early structure of the world to come. They are the framework of the new creation already breaking into the present. They are the ones whose lives are beginning to reflect a system that does not crack.

That is what God wants.

Not performance.

Not religious theater.

But structural transformation.

A shift so deep, so complete, that the very logic of your existence changes.

And yes, the choice is yours.

Because the structure is built with freedom in mind.

God does not enforce alignment. He invites it. Because forced alignment isn’t alignment at all. It’s coercion. And coercion cannot produce love, cannot sustain truth, cannot preserve life.

The real question - the one beneath all theology and ritual and interpretation - is simple:

Which vantage are you living from?

Not in theory.

In practice.

In your quiet moments.

In your relationships.

In your fears and your hopes and your desires.

Are you still anchored to the structure that is already breaking?

Or have you begun to switch?

It may not be loud. It may not come with a trumpet blast. But it will come with clarity.

Because once you see the difference - between the cracked filter and the clear lens - there’s no going back.

Once you feel the foundation of Christ beneath your feet, the tremble of the old ground will no longer feel like home.

And once the switch begins, the structure begins to hold.

That’s what God wants for you.

That’s what Christ has secured.

That’s what the Spirit now offers.

The vantage has changed.

And the door is open.

The rest is choice.

That is the final word of the first chapter. The first call.

The structure stands.

And the invitation echoes still.

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