The Sin of Presumption: When Obedience Is Replaced by Assumption
A few days ago, I was in prayer when the Lord led me to Leviticus 10. If you read my stuff, you know just this week I wrote about it. God's really speaking to me through this rich text. But as I read, the Lord begin to expose how the sin of presumption had not only crept into my own life—but how it's infiltrated the Church.
"Now Nadab and Abihu, the sons of Aaron, each took his censer and put fire in it and laid incense on it and offered unauthorized fire before the Lord, which he had not commanded them. And fire came out from before the Lord and consumed them, and they died before the Lord."—Leviticus 10:1–2
This moment in Leviticus is one of the most sobering scenes in all of Scripture. Nadab and Abihu weren't outsiders. They weren't pagans. They were priests—ordained, anointed, and chosen to serve in the presence of God. But they made one fatal mistake: they offered something that looked spiritual, but was never commanded.
Listen, presumption doesn't always look like rebellion. Most of the time, it looks like rushing ahead with something good—without stopping to ask if it was God. It's that sneaky temptation to act on behalf of the Lord without waiting for His voice. And trust me, it's everywhere.
Presumption is the counterfeit confidence of the religious spirit—rooted in pride, dressed in performance, and divorced from obedience. And it's far more common than we think.
My Brother's Encounter with Presumption
I was so excited about what I was learning and being convicted over that I called my brother Heath. As we talked, he shared an experience that perfectly illustrates the trap of presumption we just read about in Leviticus.
A while back, Heath was finishing up a long day of work. It was one of those rare, perfect afternoons, and he had been looking forward to fishing with a friend. The sun was just right, and he hadn't been able to go in months. He rushed to get his gear ready, then stopped to fuel up before heading out.
While he was at the gas station, he noticed an older man sitting on a bench nearby. As soon as he saw him, he felt a nudge from the Lord: "Go talk to him."
But Heath was in a hurry. He remembered a recent moment when the Lord asked him to give money to someone on the street, so he figured maybe this was similar. He presumed that if he just handed the man some money, it would cover the assignment.
So he walked over quickly, handed the man some cash, and said, "I felt like the Lord wanted me to give you this."
The man looked up, grinned, and replied: "Thanks. I guess I could buy myself a watch."
During their short exchange, the man mentioned three separate times that his feet were hurting. But Heath, trying to be faithful and efficient, blessed him, ran back to his truck, and drove off to fish.
But something in his spirit didn't settle. That uncomfortable feeling started to rise, and he began to wonder, "Did I mishear You, Lord?"
And that's when the Lord whispered to his heart: "I didn't ask you to give him money. I sent you to offer him a ride."
And suddenly, it clicked. The man didn't need a watch. He needed a ride to rest his weary feet.
Heath had done something good—but it wasn't what God had commanded. He had done something familiar as one who hears the voice of the Lord, but it wasn’t the assignment that day. And that's the difference between obedience and presumption.
Just as Nadab and Abihu brought fire that appeared legitimate but lacked divine sanction, we too can offer what seems right without waiting for God's command. This isn't just dusty ancient history—it's a daily temptation for every single one of us.
Presumption and the Spirit of Religion
The spirit of religion trains us to perform the part without ever seeking the presence. It prioritizes appearance over alignment, repetition over relationship.
Nadab and Abihu likely weren't rebelling outright—they were imitating a sacred act without fresh instruction. That's exactly how the spirit of religion operates: Ritual with no revelation.
Presumption says, "This is what we always do."
Obedience asks, "Lord, is this what You want today?"
Presumption and Pride
Pride says, "I know what God wants—I've done this before." It assumes access, authority, and outcome without pausing for permission.
Nadab and Abihu didn't consult Moses. They didn't ask the Lord. They acted without being sent.
Pride pushes past the presence of God and still expects His fire. But fire on the altar without obedience is not glory—it's judgment.
My Own Battle with Presumption
I've walked this painful path myself. When I was hired for an administrative role at a local church, I presumed they would eventually recognize the calling on my life and ordain me as a pastor. I waited, expecting validation that didn't come. When the title and recognition I presumed would happen didn't materialize, I questioned my entire calling and nearly abandoned what God had genuinely placed in my heart.
Can I be real with you? This is how insidious presumption can be—it doesn't just affect our actions, it hijacks our perspective entirely. I was measuring God's affirmation through a lens I had created, not one He had commanded. Presumption caused me to interpret circumstances wrongly and almost derailed my true purpose. I nearly laid down a genuine calling because it didn't look the way I presumed it should.
Modern Manifestations
Presumption is still alive today in many ministry spaces. We see it when:
Worship mimics past moments instead of listening for what God is saying now. You've seen it—churches still structuring services around last season's revival format long after the Spirit has moved on to something new.
Leadership decisions are based on trend or tradition, not instruction. Come on, we've all been guilty of this one—launching programs because they worked at another church, without ever asking God if it's His plan for our people.
Spiritual routines that once flowed from intimacy are now maintained by autopilot. Let's be honest—those prayer meetings that continue out of habit but have lost their fire? That's presumption wearing religious clothes.
Individuals move in a spiritual gift until it becomes their entire identity—leading them to perform even when the Spirit isn't prompting. I've watched prophetically gifted people feel pressured to "have a word" for everyone they meet, even when God is silent.
The danger isn't in the outward action—it's in who commanded it.
And let me be clear: this doesn't mean we need a word from God to show kindness, give generously, or help someone in need. Scripture already commands us to live that way. But there's a difference between a heart that is yielded and a heart that assumes. A difference between acting in compassion—and moving in presumption.
The Heart Check
This is where we pause. Where we invite the Spirit to search us. Take a moment and ask yourself:
Have I done something in God's name that He never actually asked me to do?
Have I assumed His blessing because it worked last time?
Have I been led by pride—or the pressure to perform—more than by His presence?
Did God command it? Really?
Let me tell you—presumption is sneaky. It looks like obedience. It even feels productive. But when we step into spaces God didn't assign, offer sacrifices He didn't request, or act from habit instead of humility—we risk offering strange fire.
I'm challenging myself, and I'm challenging you: Let's be a people who trade presumption for presence. Let's ask first. Let's wait. Let's obey.
Not just because it looks spiritual. But because He commanded it.