Cross-posted by The Furnace
I authored this piece originally published on TheFurnaceCF.substack.com. Republishing here for my readers. —Scot Lahaie
Part of the series: The Return to the Inner Temple
In this series, we have been mapping out the architecture of the heavenly realms. We have established the three-tiered structure of the heavens, addressed the concept of the Imago Dei and the three-part nature of the human person, and then finished with the idea of the two bodies revealed in scripture—the physical body and the spiritual body. To finish our modeling of the heavenly architecture, we need to speak more about the human spirit.
In this article:
The Nature of the Human Spirit
Before we proceed, we must understand what the human spirit actually is—not merely what it is not. Scripture reveals the spirit through vivid, elemental imagery that testifies to its divine origin and power.
The spirit is light. Isaiah prophesies, “Nations will come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your rising” (Isaiah 60:3). You are light from Light, bearing the radiance of the One who fashioned you.
The spirit is fire. “The spirit of man is the lamp of the Lord, searching all the inmost parts of his being” (Proverbs 20:27). Jesus came to baptize us in the Holy Spirit and in fire (Matthew 3:11)—your flame is mingled with His flame, burning with divine purpose.
The spirit is breath. “The LORD God formed man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul” (Genesis 2:7). You are that breath—the eternal inhalation of God Himself.
The spirit is wind. Jesus declares, “The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear the sound of it, but cannot tell where it comes from or where it goes. So is everyone who is born of the Spirit” (John 3:8). The spirit moves with sovereign freedom, untethered by earthly constraints.
The spirit is smoke. The psalmist writes, “There went up a smoke out of his nostrils, and fire out of his mouth devoured: coals were kindled by it” (Psalm 18:8). The spirit carries the evidence of holy fire, rising as an offering before the throne.
These are not metaphors—they are revelations of essence. The human spirit possesses its own intelligence, distinct from the soul’s reasoning and the body’s instincts. As we explored in our discussion of the Imago Dei, the spirit can know, choose, and feel independently. Paul affirms this: “For what man knows the things of a man except the spirit of the man which is in him?” (1 Corinthians 2:11). The spirit has its own knowledge, separate from the soul and body. In Psalm 42:5, we witness an interior dialogue in which the spirit addresses the soul: “Why are you cast down, O my soul? And why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God.” The spirit, still tethered to divine perspective, speaks with clarity to the soul caught in sorrow.
According to the divine blueprint, the spirit was intended to govern the soul and body. As the part of man that communes directly with God, the spirit is meant to lead with revelation, bearing divine light for the whole being. “The spirit of a man is the lamp of the Lord, searching all the inner depths of his heart” (Proverbs 20:27). When the spirit leads, the soul finds its clarity and the body moves in peace. Harmony is restored and the image of God becomes radiant.
It is critical to distinguish between the human spirit and the spiritual body, for though they are deeply intertwined in the architecture of the inner person, they are not synonymous. The spiritual body, as previously explored, is anchored in the Second Heaven and bears the form and continuity of our soul after death, but the spirit of man—the true, eternal essence breathed into us by God—is something altogether more elemental. Ecclesiastes affirms this plainly: “Then the dust will return to the earth as it was, and the spirit will return to God who gave it” (Ecclesiastes 12:7). The body returns to earth, the soul carries memory and personality, but the spirit ascends—eternal, conscious, and belonging to God. It is this spirit that communes with Him in the highest realms and is seated with Christ in heavenly places even now (Ephesians 2:6).
A Layered Existence
We live in an age of layered existence. Our natural body interacts with the physical world, our spiritual body resides in the Second Heaven and awaits glorification, and our spirit—our true self—is already enthroned with Christ. It is neither metaphor nor fantasy. It is the deepest reality. Though the physical body walks the earth, the spirit of the believer has full access to the heavenly places—not only in the world to come but in this present age. The spirit of man was designed to move between realms, to receive revelation in the Third Heaven, and to engage in warfare in the Second. This is not extrabiblical mysticism, but biblical anthropology rightly restored. In Ephesians 2:6, Paul tells us that we are seated with Christ, not in the future tense, but now. In Ephesians 6:12, he tells us that “we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.” The spiritual body is a container; the spirit is the occupant. The former resides in heavenly architecture. The latter communes with God.
The Distinction Between Soul and Spirit
Yet for all their closeness, the spiritual body and human spirit remain distinct. The spirit is not bound by time or geography. It is not confined to a chronological sequence or earthly axis. Throughout Scripture we find evidence that the spirit of man can transcend normal limitations—through divine translation, prophetic vision, and supernatural displacement. The prophets and apostles did not merely dream. They were taken. They were shown. They were caught up into realities beyond their frame. Their encounters, preserved in the canon of Scripture, offer more than devotional metaphors—they are templates of spiritual inheritance.
It is also necessary to differentiate between the soul and the spirit. The soul is the seat of personal identity, thought, and emotion, shaped by experiences and marked by memory. It is the spirit that communes with God. It is the spirit—not the soul—that is seated with Christ in the Third Heaven. It is the spirit—not the body—that may enter the inner temple, and it is the spirit—not the mind or emotions—that is called to ascend in prayer, in worship, and in revelation. This distinction is not a theological curiosity but a spiritual safeguard. Witchcraft and occult practices attempt to send the soul into spirit realms through astral projection—an unlawful intrusion into dimensions not granted to the soul. Such practices, forbidden in Scripture, pervert what was meant to be governed by God. The believer, by contrast, enters the spirit realm not by manipulation, but by yielding—by allowing the spirit to ascend through union with Christ. We do not will ourselves into higher realms; we are summoned by grace, and when we respond to the divine invitation, it is the spirit that goes.
Biblical Witnesses to Spiritual Travel
This reality is attested throughout Scripture. Paul, in describing his vision of the Third Heaven, declares that he did not know whether he was “in the body or out of the body” (2 Corinthians 12:2–4). Such language reveals the mystery of spiritual travel—not imaginary, but dimensional. Elijah was taken up in a whirlwind and did not taste death (2 Kings 2:1–12). Enoch walked with God and was no more, for God took him (Hebrews 11:5). In both cases, the boundary between earth and heaven dissolved. Yet, it is Paul’s testimony that most directly affirms the possibility of return. He was caught up and came back. His spirit traveled and was sent again.
John, in Revelation, records a profound encounter: “Immediately I was in the Spirit; and behold, a throne set in heaven” (Revelation 4:2). His spirit ascended into the throne room. There, he saw visions spanning past and future, heaven and earth. He was not dreaming—he was present. His spirit had been lifted. Likewise, the prophets of old moved in this same rhythm. Ezekiel saw the heavens opened and beheld the throne, the wheels full of eyes, the living creatures in motion (Ezekiel 1:1–28). Isaiah stood before the seraphim, the burning ones who cried “Holy, holy, holy,” and saw the Lord seated upon His throne (Isaiah 6:1–7). Daniel beheld the Ancient of Days and the procession of thrones, seeing even the Son of Man approach in glory (Daniel 7:9–14). Zechariah, through visions, traversed heavenly courts where he saw Joshua the high priest, golden lampstands, and angelic interpreters guiding his understanding (Zechariah 1–6). These were not mental projections or poetic expressions. They were events—encounters—in which the spirit of man interfaced with the courtrooms and mysteries of God.
Our Inheritance of Movement
What emerges from these accounts is a clear theology of movement. The spirit of man was created to cross thresholds, to receive from the Throne, to war in the unseen, and to deliver heaven’s counsel into the earth. These realities are not reserved for an elite class of prophets. They belong to the redeemed. They belong to the Church. We were made for this (John 14:12). The veil that once separated us has been torn, and the spirit—washed, awakened, and yielded—may now enter the inner temple. This is no fantasy. It is the inheritance of the saints. It is the pattern of Scripture. It is the preparation for glory.
The human spirit was not meant to lie dormant, buried beneath soul-noise and bodily cravings. It was made to ascend, to intercede, to behold. It was fashioned in God’s likeness to commune with Him who is Spirit. When that spirit rises, when it leads the soul and disciplines the body, the image of God becomes radiant again. These truths are not theory—they are access. They are the map and the threshold. They form the living invitation to draw near. For it is the spirit, and the spirit alone, that may walk into the inner chamber and hear the voice of the One who waits within.
