Picture this: the gospel is like a coin minted in heaven’s own forge, with two sides that can’t be pried apart without ruining the whole thing. One side gleams with spiritual blessings—the forgiveness of sins, righteousness credited to us, and adoption as God’s sons. But flip it over, and you’ll find the material blessings that flow from the same source: healing for our bodies, provision for our needs, and miracles that shatter the chains of this fallen world. All blessings are spiritual at their core, rooted in God Himself who is Spiritual and Intellectual, and who gives them to us in unmerited favor; however, but some play out in the here and now, touching our flesh and bones. Try to split this coin—to accept the spiritual while rejecting the material—and you’ve got nothing but worthless scraps. No store owner hands out half a coin and calls it currency; it’s illegal, and it’d buy you zilch. God’s gospel works the same way. You take it whole, or you walk away empty-handed.

The Scripture doesn’t mince words on this. From the start, God’s promise to Abraham wasn’t some ethereal whisper about invisible graces alone; it was a bold declaration of overflowing good—health, wealth, fame, and victory over enemies (Genesis 12:2-3). Paul calls this the “gospel” preached in advance, where God justifies the Gentiles by faith and pours out the blessings of Abraham (Galatians 3:8-9). What does that look like? Miracles, the Spirit’s power, and yes, material abundance to fund the kingdom’s advance. Abraham believed God for a son when his body was as good as dead, and that faith unlocked supernatural provision—land, livestock, and descendants as countless as the stars (Romans 4:18-21). No separation there: faith for material blessings brough the adjacent benefit of God declaring him righteous. God didn’t say, “I’ll save your soul, but leave the body to rot.” He promised whole material world blessings, and Abraham grabbed it all, and in return for believing for material blessings God gave him spiritual blessings.

Fast-forward to Jesus’ atonement, the ultimate fulfillment of that promise. Isaiah 53 lays it bare: Christ bore our sins and our sicknesses in one seamless act of substitution. “Surely he took up our pain and bore our suffering… by his wounds we are healed” (Isaiah 53:4-5, NIV). Matthew drives it home, applying this directly to Jesus’ ministry: “He took up our infirmities and bore our diseases” (Matthew 8:17, NIV). The cross wasn’t a pick-and-choose buffet—forgiveness on one plate, healing on another, tucked away for later. No, it’s all one bloody transaction. Jesus swapped our curses for Abraham’s blessings, our poverty for His riches, our sickness for His health (Galatians 3:13-14; 2 Corinthians 8:9). Peter echoes it: “By his wounds you have been healed” (1 Peter 2:24, NIV)—past tense, already done. To slice out healing as “not essential” or “maybe if God wills” is to hack at the atonement itself, and by hacking the atonement you are hacking at Jesus Christ Himself. You can’t gut one benefit without bleeding out the whole gospel.

Look at how the apostles lived it. In Acts 3, Peter grabs a lame man and commands, “In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk” (Acts 3:6, NIV). No hedging, no “if it’s God’s will.” The man leaps up, praising God—not because Peter was some super-apostle with special perks, but because faith in Jesus’ name triggered the power. Peter spells it out: “By faith in the name of Jesus, this man whom you see and know was made strong” (Acts 3:16, NIV). Faith flips the switch, and the atonement’s power flows. James doubles down: “The prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise them up. And if they have sinned, they will be forgiven” (James 5:15, NIV). Forgiveness and healing, side by side, both on faith’s demand. Deny one, and you’re denying the blood that bought them both. It’s like saying, “I’ll take the salvation, but skip the resurrection”—absurd, and frankly, demonic.

Why the resistance? Tradition’s got its claws in deep, peddling a half-gospel that spiritualizes everything to death, leaving folks limping through life without the material muscle God intended. Cessationists and doubters scoff at healing on demand, calling it “name it and claim it” nonsense, but they’re the ones claiming God’s promises are expired coupons. Jesus warned about this: “Blessed is anyone who does not stumble on account of me” (Matthew 11:6, NIV)—right after listing miracles as proof of His messiahship. Offended by free healing? You’re stumbling over the cornerstone. Paul blasts it in Galatians: anyone preaching a different gospel—say, one without Abraham’s blessings—is accursed (Galatians 1:8-9). And what’s that blessing? The Spirit, miracles, prosperity—all yours through faith, no merit required.

Don’t get me wrong; the gospel’s core is God’s glory, but He glorifies Himself by glorifying us (1 Corinthians 2:7). Predestined for our glory before the world began, the atonement crowns us as co-heirs with Christ. We ask big—healing for cancer, provision for ministries, miracles for the mundane—because that’s how God rolls. It’s not arrogance; it’s obedience. Jesus said, “Ask and it will be given to you” (Matthew 7:7, NIV), and He meant it. Skimp on the material side, and you’re shortchanging the spiritual too. The coin’s whole or worthless.

Picture that coin: one side shines with spiritual riches—righteousness, sanctification, and eternal life—while the other glints with material promises—health, wealth, and peace. Both are inseparable because both flow from the same source: Christ’s finished work. Romans 2:6-7 tells us God will judge and give eternal life to those seeking glory, honor, and immortality, a spiritual blessing with eternal weight. Yet 2 Corinthians 8:9 adds, “For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though He was rich, yet for your sake He became poor, that you through His poverty might become rich.” That’s material abundance tied to the same grace. In my reflections from the website, I note that all blessings are spiritual at their foundation, but some manifest materially—health from His stripes (Isaiah 53:5), provision from His abundance (2 Corinthians 9:8). Split them, and you’ve got a gospel that can’t purchase a thing; it’s no longer the good news it’s meant to be.

This unity hinges on what Jesus did at that specific time and place. His death paid for our sins, His resurrection declared us righteous, and His seating at God’s right hand secured our authority as we are seated with Him, co-heirs with Him and anointed by Him in the baptism of the Spirit (Hebrews 1:3). Every benefit—spiritual or material—springs from this single act. Take healing, for instance. In Mark 6, Jesus calms the storm and feeds the multitudes, expecting faith to normalize the miraculous. If you deny, “on the demand faith for healing as part of the gospel, you’re slicing the gospel coin down the middle. Its worthless and powerless for all things.

Grab the full gospel. Confess your sins and receive forgiveness by faith—then command that sickness to flee, that need to be met. It’s all one atonement, one victory, one unbreakable coin. Split it, and you’ve got nothing but fool’s gold. But take it whole, and watch God multiply it into eternal joy. After all, if faith can toss mountains into the sea, handling a little sickness or lack is child’s play. Let’s live like the heirs we are—no more half-measures.

Now, the religious mind loves to divide this, picking and choosing like a picky eater at a buffet. Some say, “Healing’s not for today,” or “Prosperity’s a distraction,” but that’s like saying half a coin buys a sandwich. Nonsense. The gospel’s integrity demands we receive it whole.

The gospel’s like that coin—two sides, one value. Jesus’ work at Calvary, the empty tomb, and the throne secures it all. Don’t let anyone convince you to trade half for a counterfeit. Embrace the whole—spiritual depth and material abundance—and watch it transform your life. It’s a brilliant future, because God’s promises are yes in Christ. Receive it all, and let’s live like heirs, not beggars. That’s the gospel’s power, undivided and unstoppable.